Only for the Weekend UPDATE!

We have a cover -- and it's gorgeous! What do you think? I've also set up preorders. You can go ahead and order your copy of Only for the Weekend on Amazon right now for 99 cents. I'll have the book up on other retailers within the next couple of weeks, and will add the links to the Bookshelf page as they go live. The links will also be in my monthly newsletter.

So when will your copy arrive on your e-reader? DECEMBER 4TH! As I announced in my newsletter, I've had some health issues this summer that pushed my schedule off, and I wanted V. and Jane's story to come out a little closer to the other book in this mini-series, Hank and Sage's story (out the first week of April, 2016). Since the books go together, I figured a little delay now was better than a bigger delay between them. But this novella is definitely hot enough to wait for! I think you'll love Vincent and Jane--their chemistry is explosive. I had to take a few breathers between scenes, let me tell ya.

Oh, you want to see? Hmm...Okay, I guess I can share. ;) How about an excerpt?

* * *

Straightening her shoulders, his sister met his gaze. "I got a call from Jane last week."

Vincent's gut tightened. "Jane?"

"Yes, Jane," she said impatiently. "My best friend, Jane? You are so hopeless."

"I hope not, considering you brought me here to do you a favor. I know which Jane you're talking about." As if he could ever forget. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, hoping to hide exactly how much he remembered from his too-observant sis. "Get on with it."

"She's been...unhappy with her current relationship for a while. Actually, she hasn't been happy with her last couple of boyfriends, but I didn't really understand why until she called to tell me she and Lane had broken up." Kennedy's mouth twisted into something not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "We got to talking about what, specifically, was the problem--"

V. put his hand up to ward off the rest. Jane's relationships were the last thing he wanted to discuss. The history between him and Jane--history his sister knew absolutely nothing about, he was pretty sure--might be water under the bridge, but that didn't mean he wanted to think about her with anyone else.

Kennedy wouldn't be denied, though. "No, Vinny, this is important. See, we were talking, and I started to realize that some of their...compatibility issues are because Jane is...uh...submissive."

Fuck. Now he was starting to get the picture. His fingers started a steady beat on his thigh as he struggled to bring his racing thoughts under control. "And you want me to talk to her about BDSM."

There weren't many secrets between him and his sister. When she'd read 50 Shades and started questioning things, he'd openly discussed his natural need to dominate and what that might look like in a hypothetical relationship. Though ultimately not drawn to the D/s dynamic herself, Kennedy was well-educated enough to recognize the tendency in her best friend.

"Not exactly."

"Then what exactly?" He couldn't keep a bit of bite out of his words.

Kennedy took a deep breath as if steeling herself against something. Not a good sign. His gut tightened again.

"Jane actually asked about hiring an...escort that could dominate her." V. thought the top of his head might just fly off. "She didn't. You didn't," he growled.

"No, idiot," she insisted, her words as loud as his were low, "I didn't." She stared into his eyes, but she wasn't really seeing him, he could tell. "She wants to learn but doesn't know anyone in the lifestyle. She didn't know what to look for if she went to a club, and didn't feel safe with a stranger."

V. wasn't quite ready to give an inch. The thought of Jane with a stranger--okay, with anyone, but especially a stranger--made him feel like his blood was boiling in his veins. "She wouldn't know an escort either."

"But I would." Kennedy shrugged. "That was it. She thought, this being Vegas, that I might've met someone in the lifestyle that she could trust. A personal recommendation, so to speak."

"You told her no, obviously."

This time her stare connected, but she didn't speak. She just waited, her determination ticking like a clock between them, until the truth finally smacked him between the eyes.

"You're hiring me?"

"She's my best friend, Vinny. I'm not gonna hand her over to have sex with just anybody!"

"And you're not handing her over to have sex with me either." Frustration drove him to his feet to pace across the room until the floor-to-ceiling windows stopped him. If only Kennedy knew. Jane would probably prefer to castrate him, even now, ten years later. She certainly wouldn't want to be vulnerable to him, not the way a sub was vulnerable with their Dom. Even considering it was an enormous mistake. He scrambled for anything that might deter her.

"Jane's just a kid." Ten years his junior, like Kennedy was.

"She's not a kid. She's my age, and I have sex all the time."

He shot his sister a withering look. "Now stop that shit right now."

Kennedy's eyebrow cocked up. "The sex?"

"Telling me about it." He shuddered. "It may or may not happen, but I do not need to know."

Kennedy's smirk was salt in the wound. "My brother the perv is freaked out by his baby sister's vanilla sex life."

"Yes. Very."

It took a moment, but eventually he was able to join a smirk with Kennedy's laughter. His sister's amusement eased some of the tension stringing his body tight, enough that he could return to the couch. Kennedy patted his leg when he sat beside her.

"She's always had a bit of a crush on you, ya know."

He kept his sigh inside. Damn right, he knew. What Kennedy and especially Jane didn't know was that the feeling had always been mutual. Which spelled certain disaster if he gave in to what his sister wanted.

He didn't say it aloud; instead he deflected. "Jane isn't a one-night-stand kind of girl." He knew that much--all too well.

"She's not looking for forever, just a quickie intro to BDSM." She tilted her head, seeming to consider her words. An impish grin tugged at her lips. "Well, not a quickie, really, but you get the idea."

His frown probably made him seem like a stuffy old geezer, but what the hell... "Yeah, I get it." All too well. Perversely, the assumption that he was available to be used for the night bothered him. "Thanks, Sis. I'm good enough to stud out but not good enough for more than one night?"

He mentally kicked his own ass. Why was he even arguing about this? He didn't want more than one night. He'd always said so, a fact Kennedy quickly reminded him of.

"'Commitment takes time,'" she quoted.

He'd said those three words so many times, and never regretted them. His band had been all the commitment he had room for besides Kennedy. It had always been true, but now Weekend Washout was on hiatus for who knew how long--at least until Chad came back from gallivanting around Europe with his latest lover. V. and Hank were exploring a new solo project, true, but even then, he had way too much time on his hands.

But not time for a commitment, V. You're not commitment material. If you were, you'd have taken Jane up on her offer ten years ago, whether she was sixteen or not.

No... Okay, maybe. He really didn't know. He'd like to think he was a better man than to take advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl's infatuation, but this was Jane they were talking about. And whether it was ten years ago or now, the thought of having her for far longer than a single night reverberated in his chest with more force than the echo of his bass drum.

"Vinny." Kennedy closed her eyes, probably praying for patience. When she opened them again, determination shone through. "Jane is a sweet person who's just trying to find her way through this." She sat forward. "You're my brother. I trust you, and most of all, I trust you with her. Please, just... Please help her."

V. thought about her words for a long moment, thought about his first faltering forays into a nonvanilla sex life, how much easier it would've been if he'd had a guiding hand. He considered the pleading in Kennedy's eyes, and the fact that she might hand him his balls if he said no. And finally, he let himself picture Jane, the pretty sixteen-year-old he'd rejected and the quietly beautiful woman he'd seen in Kennedy's frequent pictures. Could he really let Jane make herself vulnerable that way with anyone else? Could he turn his back knowing she wouldn't be safe? Because she would continue to explore; that much he knew. He wouldn't have been able to stop his own search, safety or not. Jane needed to find her answers, but no way in hell could he allow her to do it alone.

His sigh was pure capitulation. Kennedy heard it and smiled.

"All right," he told her, "I'll do it--but on one condition." He thought about that a moment. "Two, actually."

Kennedy's triumph dimmed a bit. "Okay."

"Anonymity. I don't want her knowing who I am. No, Kenn," he said firmly before she could interrupt. "This could affect your friendship later. She could feel awkward, avoiding you if she thinks I'll be there." He normally had no issue with having sex with a woman he'd just met, if they both knew the score, but not Kennedy's best friend. It wasn't the only reason for the caveat, but it was a good one. The other... Well, Jane would never knowingly let him near her, much less trust him if she knew he was the one with her, not after what had happened between them. "Anonymity is a must."

Emotion warred in Kennedy's eyes, but she finally gave in. "You're the right person for this job," she told him, conviction shining in her eyes. "I guess what she doesn't know won't hurt her. She'd never see any other guy I picked again, right?"

"Right." He said the word she wanted to hear even though he didn't think it was necessarily true. If they hit it off, Jane would probably see another Dom again. Not him, though. She wouldn't see him the first time if she knew.

Kennedy reluctantly nodded. "And?"

He squared his shoulders. "And no sex."

"But--"

V. shook his head. "I can teach her what she needs to know without it. Hell, some subs get more of a release from the submission than they do an orgasm." For him D/s was all about the sex, but that wasn't the case across the board. "Jane is vulnerable, and I won't take advantage of that. I can't."

"So...you won't touch her at all?"

"Oh, I'll touch her." A lot, probably. More than was good for his sanity. "But no full-on sex."

Kennedy agreed, but the uncertainty wrinkling the corners of her eyes said what she wouldn't say aloud. No sex meant Jane's fantasy might go unfulfilled. But he'd rather give her something and leave them both unscarred than indulge himself in something he'd dreamed about for longer than had been appropriate and hurt Jane in the process. If Kennedy knew the whole story, she wouldn't have any doubts. All V. had doubts about was his ability not to go too far. This was Jane, after all. The woman he'd fantasized about dominating since she was sixteen years old.

Heaven help him.

* * *

Don't forget, you can go ahead and reserve your copy of Only for the Weekend now on Amazon. And don't worry--I'll remind you when it's almost here. :)

*

Jane Jacobs is ready for a change. She’s determined that a history of lackluster relationships and even more lackluster pleasure will end this weekend, when she meets the Dom her best friend has set her up with. Exploring dominance and submission with her blind “date” could answer all her questions—and help her forget the one man she wants to master her.

With his band on hiatus, Vincent O’Connell grabs the chance to visit his sister in Vegas, but she wants a favor more than a family reunion. V.’s not above indulging himself with a willing sub, but when he realizes the sub is his sister’s best friend, Jane, all his instincts scream at him to back out—and fast.

V knows Jane; she’s young, pretty, sweet. Definitely sub material—for someone else. But one look at her on her knees and all the reasons to avoid her disappear. She needs a Dom to guide her, and he needs to indulge himself with just a taste. After all, it's only for the weekend.

Am Writing!

Y'all know I've been working on Hank (from Naughty Little Christmas) and Sage's book. I'm still working on it and hope to have it out in November. But in the meantime, a wee little novella crept up on me featuring Hank's best friend, Vincent. And that book will be ready before Hank's. Which means... You guessed it -- a new book out in early October! Title and blurb got some work this past weekend, and now it's ready to share with you. Let me introduce...Vincent and Jane.

Only for the Weekend (If Only Book 1)

A Vegas weekend. A temporary submissive. Can he control both her and his heart?

Jane Jacobs is ready for a change. She’s determined that a history of lackluster relationships and even more lackluster pleasure will end this weekend, when she meets the Dom her best friend has set her up with. Exploring dominance and submission with her blind “date” could answer all her questions—and help her forget the one man she wants to master her.

With his band on hiatus, Vincent O’Connell grabs the chance to visit his sister in Vegas, but she wants a favor more than a family reunion. V’s not above indulging himself with a willing sub, but when he realizes the sub is his sister’s best friend, Jane, all his instincts scream at him to back out—and fast.

V knows Jane; she’s young, pretty, sweet. Definitely sub material—for someone else. But one look at her on her knees and all the reasons to avoid her disappear. She needs a Dom to guide her, and he needs to indulge himself with just a taste. After all, it's only for the weekend.

*

I'll share more news as it becomes available. I can't wait to share this sexy Dom and his sweet sub with my readers!

~ Ella

What I've Been Reading: Cell by Stephen King

I finally got in a little reading last weekend! Reading is one of the things that falls off my list when I struggle to find time for everything, but I took a Saturday for myself and read Stephen King's Cell from cover to cover. What did I think? Well, as a romance author, I have to say my reactions were mixed. Artist Clayton Riddell had been in Boston negotiating a successful deal to sell his comic book project.  His joy at finally hitting it big is shattered by an event called The Pulse which causes all those who were using their cell phones at the time of The Pulse to become zombies attacking and killing anyone in their way.  Fortunately for Clay, he does not own a cell phone.  In the panic to get out of Boston and find his way home to his wife and son in Maine, he is joined by Tom McCourt, a man he meets in the meleé immediately following The Pulse and a young girl, Alice, who they rescue from being killed by one of the “crazies.”  The story follows their terrifying journey, avoiding capture—and worse—by the “crazies” who are beginning to “flock” and are led by one they call Raggedy Man as they attempt to reach Maine and a place called Kashwak which they hope will be their salvation.

This is the first Stephen King novel I've read. It's been something on my to-do list for a long while, but other than reading On Writing, I haven't delved into his writing. I've seen almost every movie version, though. :) And since I began reading the books of Jonathan Maberry (and enjoying them immensely) -- and since it was a book on hand (my daughter had a copy) -- I decided this was a good start.

The story itself, I really did love. It was exceptionally well plotted, the characterization was spot on, and the ability to make even the smallest, most repetitious actions interesting was phenomenal. King has long been lauded as a master author, but I did not realize quite how seamlessly that skill played out on the page. I didn't necessarily care about the characters immediately, but I wanted to understand what was happening to them. They were interesting, and as time went on, I found myself rooting for them, living through their eyes, feeling what they felt despite the sparsity of language.

And that was where I wavered.

I've heard it said that King abhors adjectives and adverbs. I did find them used only rarely. King's style is bare, almost more of a report than a retelling, though what he is reporting are thoughts and feelings. Descriptions aren't flowery or overstated, but the details King chooses to focus on bring the entire scene to life. They're just right. It's very interesting -- and very different than what I was used to. The romance genre doesn't work that way, and I think a romance novel written in this style would never have worked. And yet, with the subject and the genre of Cell, King's style enhanced the other elements of the story instead of taking away from them. He let us focus in on what was important, not everything around us in the story.

Oh, one caveat: Cell ends on a cliffhanger (and since there's no book two, you never find out what ultimately happens with Riddell and his son, though the state of the world itself is pretty clear at the end). I had a heads-up that this was the case before I read the story, so I was prepared for it. Others who weren't warned told me they wanted to throw the book across the room. :) Be warned ahead of time!

So, did I enjoy it? I did. Not in the way I'd expected, but I did. I will definitely try another, maybe The Stand, since they are remaking the movie version. Next, though, will probably be Lisey's Story (since I already own a copy, and since it's about a writer). But for next month, I'll be returning to romance, I think. I have to switch it up, doncha know!

~ Ella

Starting Anew

Starting a new book isn't easy for me. I see a lot of authors post about writing "The End," and then the next day's post is all about the book they just dived right into overnight. Believe me, I wish I was like that, but I'm soooo not! I'm currently working my way into Hank and Sage's book, and not only do I not have a title, but I don't have much actual "book." The scenes read more like sketches than anything else. There's no pizzazz, no wonder, no spark. It's like a story "bud" instead of a story ready to flower. Lord help me.

But really, this is how every book is for me. I am a plotter, so I almost always have an idea of where the book itself is going, but also where the next few scenes are going in detail. Still, it takes me a while to find the "spark" that ignites both my interest and the characters' personalities. And with every book I worry I won't discover that spark. Where is it? When will I happen upon it? What if it never appears and this book sucks wet stinky socks?

...

You get the picture. I've never not found the spark, but it weighs heavy on my mind until I do. In the meantime, I pick up tiny bits of my characters' lives and personalities, bringing them slowly to life. Hank, for instance, has a dog. I didn't know that until this morning. Of course, neither Hank nor said dog care in the least that I have no dogs and know almost nothing about actually owning a dog. Hank said he had a dog, and so he has a dog. Oy. Now to figure out the dog's personality. :)

Thankfully I have plenty of time to meddle in other story ideas while this one fleshes out. Ian and Cassie's book, for instance, which I'm hoping to put out as a Christmas novella. And another small surprise novella that may or may not come out this year. Just depends on if I have time to figure out those characters along with my two currently ornery couples. We'll see. So many love stories, so little time!

Have a great week!

~ Ella

FUN New Contest!

I've got a contest going this week to guess my next book hero! Before I reveal the details, I thought it might be exciting to have my readers guess -- and possibly win a little treat ($15 Amazon Gift Card). :) Check out the hints on the photo below, then go to the Rafflecopter giveaway to enter your best guess (no points off for wrong names either!). The winner will be revealed (as well as the hero) in my newsletter this weekend and here on the blog. (Contest ends Saturday, 7/18.) To enter, go to the Rafflecopter giveaway page and enter your best guess! And if you want to learn more about this sexy hero, sign up for my newsletter before this weekend.

Have a great week!

~ Ella

The Rest of the Summer...

This summer has been filled with getting TAKE ME complete, getting ready for release, getting my head on straight as I tried to keep everything together and in order... You get the picture. :) Now I find myself in the enviable position of deciding where to go next. My plan all along has been to write Ian and Cassie (from Secrets To Hide), but over the weekend spent at the beach with family, that idea got derailed. By this guy:

Who is he? Well, I'm not quite ready to say yet. When a book first comes to me, I need it to marinate, to let all the flavors develop and see exactly where I want to go first before I talk about it. But I couldn't help teasing you! I do know I've never written a book like this before. I will say that you've met that gorgeous hunk before -- this book will be a spin-off of the Secrets To Hide series. But more than that, I'm not going to reveal, not yet. ;)

Ian and Cassie are still in the works (and still untitled, as you can tell!), but I felt they needed more time to gel in my mind. Their story will get written, never fear. I've been so consumed with the Southern Nights series for so long, almost a year, that I've had a hard time grasping anything  else -- which is why the big guy up there took me so much by surprise! You're gonna love him; I just know it.

Now I'm off to the day job and then more work on H-- Oh, wait, not supposed to say that yet... :p

~ Ella

TAKE Me Is Live!

The day is finally here -- TAKE ME is live! There were days I had my doubts. :) Working with two heroes is never easy, but Peyton wrangled them well, and in the end Gabe and Sam were panty-meltingly awesome. I'm hoping you enjoy the three of them together as much as I do.

Take Me is available at the "Reader Appreciation" price of $1.99 until July 5th! You can get your copy at:

• Amazon
• All Romance eBooks
• Kobo
• Barnes & Noble

A nightmare coming to an end…

Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.

A past catching up to them…

Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.

Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.

A future threatened…

When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?

To celebrate release say, I'm giving away a $20 Amazon Gift Card and a complete print set of the Southern Nights series! You can enter to win HERE.

I can't thank my loyal readers enough for making this possible. Each book starts with a kernel of an idea, but it is the love and encouragement of readers that helps me bring that kernel to fruition. I appreciate you all!

And now...let's celebrate!

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GwjfUFyY6M&w=420&h=315]

~ Ella (*dancing around the living room!*)

TWO Days & Counting...

Almost here! Only two more days to wait. In the meantime, want to read the first chapter of TAKE ME? Keep reading to see how it all begins...

* * *

Peyton Harrison’s battered old Ford pulled to a rickety stop at the curb across from the Claywater Elementary School. Buses lumbered through the circular drive out front, discharging students of all sizes. Bigger kids hurried inside, while the younger ones followed a teacher’s direction into the fenced playground. Expending energy and first-day jitters before the day began, probably. If only Peyton’s nerves could so easily be dispersed.

Her heart beat a booming drumroll of desperation in her throat, the sound loud in the stifling silence of her truck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was watch the schoolyard across the street with greedy eyes. The child she was searching for was impossible to miss. Right in the center of the play area, a small, sturdy figure hurried up to the monkey bars and began his climb to the top. Even at six years old, he was strong, pulling himself higher and higher, outpacing his classmates until he threw one tan leg over the top rung, clamped down tight, and stopped to assess his playground domain.

King of the hill. Lord of all he surveyed. Just like his father.

The thought added to the blaze of agony threatening to drown her as it mixed with the ravenous ache of yearning clenching her belly. Just a few moments of inattention by the teachers chatting together on the park bench, some wire cutters for snipping the chain-link fence, something to keep him quiet as she ran for the safety of her truck— She pictured every step in her mind, saw how easily it could be carried out, how quickly he could become hers.

Hers.

The word throbbed in her oxygen-deprived brain, right at the forefront, taunting her. So simple, just four little letters. And yet the hundred yards dividing them screamed exactly how impossible that word was. Almost as impossible as it had been for the past six years.

He belongs to someone else; you know that. At least for now.

The ache in her fingers where they clenched the steering wheel centered her, pulling her back into reality, into now. She dragged in a gulp of hot Texas air and forced her focus back on the playground, on the child’s clear blue eyes and their steely determination. His soft, full lips displayed the last tiny shreds of remaining toddlerhood. The clothes he’d worn for the first day of school—a short-sleeved, white button-down shirt that looked too adult for such a young child, tan cargo shorts with every pocket neatly fastened, pristine white ankle socks and sneakers—now bore streaks of red clay and wrinkles, the starched collar of the shirt wilting under the onslaught of August heat and childish perspiration. What she wouldn’t give to bury her nose in the sweaty curve of his neck and inhale the wild, little-boy scent of him.

So serious. Even at such a young age, he was deep-down-to-the-bone serious. More little man than little boy. She could see it in his eyes.

Then he smiled.

It hit her like a punch to the gut, that smile. His daddy’s smile. The thought burned like tears behind her eyes, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop eating up every discernible detail she possibly could. His solemn face lit up with that smile, his beautiful eyes bright under the shaggy fringe of thick blondish-red hair across his forehead. That hair was ruffled by deep furrows, as if he ran his fingers through it frequently. The white of his baby teeth was a stark contrast to the depth of his tan, possibly from playing outside all summer. The mottling of bruises on his knees and down his shins attested to that. At least she hoped that’s where they came from. Her heart ached to know for sure. She ran through scenario after scenario in a feverish search for the one that would enable her to bring him home, to finally have him in her arms agai—

Knock, knock, knock.

The drumroll in her chest became crashing thunder. A curse made it to her lips and froze there, held back by the wall of chest that blocked her sight of the playground. The material stretching across that wide expanse of solid muscle was dark blue, crisp and clean, with the title “Claywater Police Department” clearly emblazoned on the patch to one side.

A cop, right outside her window. Tall and broad and intimidating. Her breath stuttered across suddenly dry lips.

“Ma’am?” The cop rapped the back of his knuckles against the glass again. “Roll down your window please.”

The man’s voice tickled something in the back of her fear-frozen mind, something that drew her gaze against her will. Up the precisely buttoned shirtfront. Past the small triangle of skin at his collar, the neatly trimmed red-gold stubble. Lips. Nose. Eyes.

Blue eyes. Familiar blue eyes.

Peyton stared, certain she was caught up in some crazy nightmare. The devil taunting her. Because she knew those eyes intimately. Knew this man—except he wasn’t a cop. Or at least, he hadn’t been when she knew him.

“Ma’am?”

That deep, commanding tone again. It washed over her like molasses, trapping her in memories buried for so long. With hands shaking and tongue tied, Peyton slowly rolled down the window.

“Gabe?” she choked out. Please don’t let this be happening. Despite the all too real rush of air brushing her face, she prayed someone, somewhere, would hear her prayer and make it true.

One of Gabe’s hands rested casually against the side of her truck. A relaxed pose belied by his laser-sharp gaze and the fingers toying with the catch on his holster. She forced her eyes away from the gun and back to his. A flinch shook her as their eyes met.

“License and registration, please, ma’am.”

“Gabriel?” It was all she could get out. She glanced at the name tag, prominently displayed on the left side of his solid chest. Williams. “God, I can’t believe it’s you.” She didn’t want to believe it, not now, when secrecy was paramount. When her heart was already torn to pieces.

He shouldn’t look the same, not after all these years. But he did. He shouldn’t be here in Claywater, but he was. Standing outside her window. His big body was tense, ready for anything—he looked every inch the wolf he was. Cornflower-blue irises gleamed with impatience in his ruggedly handsome face. Too handsome, she’d always said. And empty. Not a hint of recognition.

Gabe didn’t shift, didn’t back down, just narrowed his eyes. “Ma’am, your license and registration. Now.”

The comply-or-face-the-consequences tone got through when nothing else could. She’d never forget that tone, no matter how many years it had been—every cop and prison guard used it daily. Her hand was halfway to the glove box before she even realized it. Registration in hand, she retrieved her license from her purse, nerves jittering in her stomach like a thousand butterflies. In a surreal haze she passed her paperwork through the window. The breath in her lungs stuttered as she watched his strong, calloused hand come closer, closer—the hand that had introduced her to the joys of sexual pleasure, the fingers that had ensured her readiness before he took her virginity. She waited for a touch she’d both longed for and cursed for seven excruciating years. And when that touch came, when his fingers brushed the backs of hers as he grasped the papers and pulled them away, she looked into his eyes once more, searching, fearing.

And saw absolutely nothing. Not recognition. Not curiosity. Disdain. Nothing. “And you are?” he asked.

She stared, certain he had to be kidding. “Peyton.” He waited. “Harrison?”

It came out a question, as if she didn’t know her own name. He didn’t, apparently. “Is there a reason you stopped here, Ms. Harrison?”

Relief coursed through her confusion. A question she was actually prepared for. “I’m lost.”

And she dared anyone to prove otherwise. A glance over her shoulder would plainly show a map of Claywater and a notebook detailing properties in the area. She was, after all, looking for a site for her new restaurant. Had already chosen one, in fact, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh? New in town?”

His tone wasn’t interested, and his gaze didn’t drop to her license, the one that had the same date as her move into her bland new apartment over by the highway. She didn’t trust herself to answer.

Her silence drew only one reaction: “How long?”

“Not long.”

He continued to watch her, unsmiling. His eyes hid everything he felt—or didn’t. And then he turned without a word and walked back to his patrol car, her license and registration in hand.

Even the walk was the same. A harsh laugh escaped as she watched him in the rearview mirror. The hair was longer, spiky instead of the buzz cut he’d worn when she knew him, the face harder and yes, now that she thought about it, older, but there was no doubt this was Gabe. Her Gabe. The Gabe that had ruined her life. She’d imagined this moment since the tender age of seventeen, imagined what she would do if she ever came face-to-face with him again. She’d never considered that he wouldn’t even remember the moment that changed her forever. But his blank stare had told her the truth. No memories of hot, sweaty nights and drenching desire lurked there. Not even a hint of recognition for someone he’d seen daily for weeks, no matter how long ago.

Just a quick, easy lay, that was her. Forgettable. Replaceable. Guess she didn’t have to wonder anymore. What she did have to wonder was how the hell her first lover and her son had ended up in the same rural Texas town. Had Gabe been involved all along?

But no, he’d definitely recognize her then. If he didn’t remember her, he didn’t know about Micah. And she was determined to keep it that way.

Gabe returned with the same unhurried pace as before, tapping her license against his thigh. When he came to stand outside her door, dark sunglasses hid his eyes. She felt the loss even though she shouldn’t, a fact that sent anger pounding through her heart. She breathed it away. She couldn’t risk slipping up and doing anything that would endanger her plans. For her sake—and her son’s—she had to stay under the radar. Assaulting an officer would make her a big ol’ unignorable blip. No clawing his eyes out, then.

Squaring her shoulders, Peyton ignored the strain of her nerves as she focused on the tap, tap, tap of the edge of her license against hard muscle. She could outwait him. She just wished she could figure out what she was waiting for.

“And where did you say you moved here from?”

She almost—almost—rolled her eyes. The raised eyebrow, she couldn’t stop. “Memphis.”

He nodded, ignoring the brow. “Your apartment is across town, Ms. Harrison. What address are you looking for?”

Do you call all your ex-lover’s by their last name? “I’m not looking for an address; I’m familiarizing myself with the town. If I plan to open a business here—and I do—then it’s in my best interest to get to know the area.” She was proud of how smoothly the words came out, ringing with pleasant—and quite false—emotion. “It’s a beautiful, friendly town.”

Okay, that hadn’t been as neutral as she would like. But once again he didn’t respond to any perceived insult. “Yes, it is. We’re small but growing, and we keep an eye on each other. You can see why we would be uncomfortable with strangers parked outside our schoolyards, correct?”

Fear mixed with her anger, making her nauseous. He’s not reading your mind, Pey. Get over it. She dared a glance at the playground as if just noticing it. “Of course, Officer Williams,” she said, pushing confidence into her voice. She kept her eyes wide open and innocent. A whisper of copper traced across her tongue as she bit down, holding back any further words.

Tap, tap, tap. “What kind of business are you planning?”

“A restaurant.”

“In Claywater?” He said it like she wasn’t too bright.

“Of course. This is a beautiful area—and growing, as you mentioned. It’s perfect.” She forced a smile, small but sweet. “You should come by sometime once I find the right location. Hoolihan’s. Coffee on the house.” She watched closely but didn’t catch even a glimmer of recognition. Coffee had always been on the house for Gabe when he visited Mike and Shelly’s place in Memphis. He’d always bragged about her coffee being the best in the world. Now even the name of the restaurant didn’t jog his memory.

“I’ll do that, ma’am.” He tipped his hat before handing back her license and registration. “You have a good day now.”

Right, I’ll just do that. Swallowing tightly, she dragged the words from an uncooperative throat. “You too.”

Gabe walked back to the patrol car parked behind her, his head swiveling as if watching for threats. It wasn’t until he got in and closed the door that she was able to release her breath and allow oxygen into her anxious brain. Movement across the street drew her eye. The kids on the playground were lining up, heading in to begin their day of learning and growing. She had things to do too, but she couldn’t resist one last, long look at her little boy. The desire to throw caution to the wind, to snatch him up and take him home despite the teachers, other children, and even cops in the vicinity who would surely stop her, almost overwhelmed her. Who knew—maybe Gabe would understand if he realized who that little boy was. Or, considering the way he’d left her in Memphis, alone and pregnant, maybe not. But watching that amazing little face, she knew it was too soon to take him, no matter how much the knowledge broke her already damaged heart. She couldn’t risk rocking the boat without more information. She had no idea if he was in a home with people who loved him, who cared what happened to him—who might come after him if he disappeared. Taking him now could risk him hating her forever.

No. No matter how the need for him clawed at her gut and made each day unbearable, she couldn’t risk scaring him, alienating him. Hurting him.

Because he was her son. Their son. And she’d protect him with her life, even from herself.

* * *

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A nightmare coming to an end…

Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.

A past catching up to them…

Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.

Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.

A future threatened…

When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?

THREE Days & Counting!

TAKE ME will be here Monday! Grab it on preorder or no Monday when it releases for only $1.99 at your favorite retailer:

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And check back Monday to enter my release day giveaway!

Naughty Hotties Memorial Weekend Blog Hop!

Happy holiday weekend! If you're visiting, you're probably traveling along the Nice Girls Writing Naughty blog hop, right? Well, I definitely have a hunk to share with you, my hero from TRUST ME, Jack.

Jack is as alpha as they come, but his woman, Maddie, is more than his match. At the end of TRUST ME, they've only known each other a few weeks, but Jack is certain they're meant to be together.

So what does he do? At a weekend bonfire, he waits until their guests say good night, then convinces Maddie to agree to whatever he asks. ;)

I've included the scene below for your Memorial Weekend enjoyment. Comment on this blog (and the others in the blog hop) for a chance at the grand prize of a $50 Amazon gift card.

And I'll also choose one lucky commenter to receive their very own copy of TRUST ME so you can read the rest of Jack and Maddie's gripping story. Don't miss out! Be sure and comment.

* * *

She was beautiful in the moonlight, the fire’s faint glow flickering over her skin. Jack couldn’t breathe, looking at her. Knowing she belonged to him. Knowing she’d chosen to stay instead of running, to trust him when everything in her world had taught her that trust meant pain. He reached out, tugging the hem of her tee up to allow his lips access to the smooth skin of her stomach.

“What is that for?” she asked.

“What do you think?” He nipped her in a particularly ticklish spot, then ran kisses over the place where Reed’s bullet had left such a horrible bruise. She’d healed, but he’d never forget it. He never wanted to see her in pain again. He wanted to love her, pleasure her. Right now.

But there was something else he had to do first.

For once words escaped him. He dug in his pants pocket, gripping the jewelers’ box tight before pulling it out for Maddie to see, only she wasn’t looking at him, so he placed the box carefully on her breastbone, right between her perfect mounds. Then he went back to kissing her.

“What’s this?”

He couldn’t answer; he was too afraid his voice would crack.

Maddie stared at him for a long moment. When he still didn’t speak, she sat up, the velvet-covered square in her hand. He held his breath when she opened the lid.

“Oh Jack.”

He sat up too.

Inside, nestled on a satiny white pillow, lay a narrow gold ring. Chocolate diamonds nestled in clusters along the band, formed into small rosettes that sparkled in the moonlight. His throat got tight as the same chocolate sparkles stared up at him from her eyes.

“I know it’s too soon to get engaged, but I wanted—”

But Maddie was already shaking her head. “You’re always worried about too soon, you jackass. Who cares about too soon? Worry about what you want instead.” She dug the ring from the box and slid it onto her left ring finger. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” And his ring on her finger… His breath got choppy. “Strip for me,” he said. Without waiting for an answer, he unzipped his jeans, the relief bringing a sigh to his lips. He pushed the stiff material down and lay back to watch as Maddie removed her clothes one piece at a time. The little tease was making him wait. Only when he circled his stiff erection and pumped roughly did she hurry up.

“Did you need something?” she asked teasingly.

He growled as she got to her knees, her breasts bobbing in the moonlight. “You on my dick.”

“Aren’t you charming.”

“Always.” He gripped her by the waist and tugged her atop him. Maddie spread her legs, and hot liquid settled against his needy shaft. They groaned together.

Jack swore his voice went so rough it scratched his vocal cords. “I want you, Maddie.”

“You’ve got me.” She rocked atop him, coating him in her sweet cream.

“Forever?”

Maddie went still. She stared down at him for a long time, her eyes too dark to read in the dim light. Jack held his breath. Finally she leaned forward, her full breasts coming to rest on his chest, her lips a whisper away from his. “Forever, Jack.” She kissed him. “Forever.”

* * *

Remember, your comment is your key to two great prizes this weekend! And be sure to return to the Nice Girls Writing Naughty blog to continue along the blog hop for more great prizes.

TRUST ME is available at the following retailers if you'd like a copy of your own:

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