Sunset is the end of a day, but the start of the evening. (This is a particularly optimistic sunset. Since I was on a jazz cruise in New Orleans when I took this shot, it was a fine evening indeed.)

It finally happened. Late last week, Samhain Publishing–my publisher for ten titles– announced it was closing its doors forever as of February 28.

This isn’t out of the blue. Samhain almost closed last year, but then announced it had pulled itself back from the brink. I wasn’t sanguine the company would manage to muddle along long-term, but I hoped it would. Kind of had no option about that. My books were still under contract and there wasn’t much I could do but wait and hope it could either survive or go out gracefully. (Note to self: Don’t sign such a long contract again. No matter how stable a company appears, the industry is always changing. So, for that matter, are my own needs as an author.)

Now it’s over, or soon to be, and it’s a bittersweet feeling.

Bitter because I’ve enjoyed a great relationship with Samhain since 2009, when they accepted Lions’ Pride. Until last year, they were always a pleasure to work with. The past year had its share of chaos and poorly handled crisis communication, which is likely to happen when a company is pared down to a few core employees, all horribly stressed. But they’ve continued to pay royalties on time and are going out in a way that avoids bankruptcy and makes sure we all get our rights back. I won’t mention names here, but that hasn’t always been the case when publishers go out of business.

Sweet because getting all the rights back means I can make changes I’ve wanted to make. New covers for some of them. Tweaks and updates that I’ve longing to make to some of them. Repackaging Drive and rebranding the series as Kinky Cougars, not Cougars, Cars and Kink. (The Mustang in Drive isn’t going anywhere, don’t worry–but some of the characters in upcoming books flat-out refused to be that obsessed with cars.)

Also sweet because frankly, I’ve been feeling stuck in limbo. Knowing where my books and I stand already feels better for my brain. There may have been a bit of bourbon and a lot of chocolate on the night I found out (and by “may” I mean “was”) but now I can make a plan instead of dithering. And feeling unstuck will make it easier to write new words. It’s been hard to continue working on my ongoing series, especially the Kinky Cougars.

It’s going to take work to get ten books republished. All of the books I had with Samhain will be back, but it’s going to be a gradual process. If you’ve wish-listed one of my titles or have been putting off buying something that intrigued you, do it now. And if you’ve ordered books–mine or anyone else’s–directly from Samhain, make sure they’re downloaded and backed up before February 28.

Here’s a list of the titles that will be disappearing temporarily.

Duals and Donovans series: Lions’ Pride, Foxes’ Den, Fox’s Folly, Cougar’s Courage, Witches’ Waves

Chronicles of the Malcolm series: Thrill-Kinky, Bad Kitty

Kinky contemporaries: Out of Control, Knowing the Ropes, Drive

Au revoir, Samhain. It was great while it lasted.

Now it’s time for the next adventure.

The sun will rise and give us a new day and new opportunities.

Welcome back to My Sexy Saturday, a blog hop in which authors post 7 thematic paragraphs, sentences, or even words to spark your imagination. This week’s theme is “My Sexy Wild”: Ever met someone who is just so wild and sexy, you want to keep them? Yeah, this week is about those wild and sexy significant others!

Since we’re going for wild, and since we’re in the middle of a major winter storm, I’m turning to a backlist paranormal title, Cougar’s Courage (Duals and Donovans: The Different 3). Shapeshifters and magic users in a remote part of Canada–well, an alternate reality that you enter via a remote part of Canada. Definitely wild and sexy.

EDIT: I’d set this up early in the week. Since then, Samhain, the publisher of the Duals and Donovans series, has announced they’re going out of business on February 28. We’ve known this announcement was going to happen at some point, but the timing was a surprise. I decided to leave this post up because you can buy the books until the end of the month–and if you get them through Samhain, they’re half-price. If you opt to get them through Samhain, though,  download them immediately and back them up.

This series, and my other former Samhain titles, will be back with great new covers as soon as possible, but “ASAP”, in this case, may be months. So if you’re interested, grab ’em now.

Here’s our heroine Cara’s wild introduction to her hero Jack. Jack and Cara are both shamans–Cara a complete newbie who can’t handle her suddenly awakened power. Jack is also a shapeshifter, called a dual in this series. He turns into a cougar. And they both have “dreams” that are actually visits to another plane. Wild enough for you?

Up until now, things had been relatively linear and sensible for a dream, but suddenly Cara found herself naked, swaddled under furs, and getting freaky with the most gorgeous specimen of masculinity she’d ever seen or dreamed.

Since it was a dream, she got a bird’s-eye look, which she couldn’t have if this had been real.

Long, straight black hair, bronze skin, the cheekbones of doom. He looked pure First Nations, only his eyes, instead of the dark brown she’d have expected, were amber.

Body of a god.

And oh my, cock of a wild stallion and the strength to just pick her up and toss her onto her back so he could sink that cock into her hard and fast. It was a claiming, but she was opening to him, rising to meet him, claiming him right back.

She arched, stiffened, cried out…

And woke to an empty bed, clutching a pillow that still smelled like Phil*. She was wet, her nipples almost painfully hard, but she buried her face in the pillow and wept.

[Phil is Cara’s late fiancé, who was murdered–at a time she was wondering if she’d made a mistake getting engaged to him.]

“The perfect blend of suspense, magic and sexual chemistry”–RT Magazine

Logic says wait. Their bodies scream go. And their spirit guides are playing dirty.

Toronto cop Cara Many-Winters Mackenzie is still reeling from her fiancé’s murder when her orderly life takes a turn toward the weird, complete with voices in her head and phantom bleeding wounds.

This violent awakening is the rise of her Different gift—a chaotic, Bugs-Bunny-on-crack magic that she must learn to control before it destroys her. There’s only one place to get help: her mother’s ancestral village, and a mentor who seems to have stepped straight out of the smoke of her erotic dreams.

Cougar Dual Jack Long-Claw reluctantly agrees to take Cara under his wing, though he’d much rather take the beautiful city girl into his bed. As he guides her through a crash course in shamanic magic, sparks fly—some sexy, some snarky. But when an ancient enemy attacks the village, they must work together to hone a magical weapon against certain destruction.

Common sense tells them it’s a terrible time to fall in love. Their spirit guides have other ideas. And shamans who don’t listen to their spirit guides are dead shamans…

Elissa, Jude, and Rafe from Lions’ Pride–and their unusual, improbable (and adorable) baby–make special guest appearances.

Warning: Hot shape-shifting feline hero. Strong but shell-shocked heroine. Snarky, meddling spirit guides. And lots and lots of sex: angry sex, crazy sex, magical sex, and just plain sexy sex.

Check out excerpts here and here.

Buy links for the e-book:

Amazon/Kobo/Samhain /B&N

Buy links for the paperback:

Amazon /B&N /Samhain

I have a special treat for you today–a visit from science fiction romance author Cara Bristol, giving us glimpses into the heroine of her steamy new release Claimed by the Cyborg. (Disclaimer: I haven’t read this one yet, but I’ve read other books in the series and they’re terrific.) Without further ado, here’s Cara

* * *

In one of my college sociology classes, I heard something to the effect that three sides exist to one’s personality: how you see yourself, how others see you, and how you think others see you.

The first and third can be quite different from the second. For instance, a person who is shy might think that others see him/her as quiet, but his/her reserved behavior can be perceived as aloof or standoffish by others.

In Claimed by the Cyborg, heroine Jules/Julietta is the heir to the Xenian empire. She’ll become empress after she bonds with Naimo and produces a child. She was an alien exchange student with the Terran Technical Institute.

I asked the characters of Claimed by the Cyborg to share something about Julietta, and this is what they said:

Aleta, mother of Julietta: “My daughter hasn’t said anything, but something happened when she went to school on Terra. I suspect a man was involved.”

Emperor Dusan, Julietta’s father: “My daughter cannot postpone bonding any longer. She must be bonded so she can rule when tradition decrees I pass the scepter next year.”

Naimo, her betrothed: “Julietta is very beautiful. We will make a great team. I will be loyal, faithful, and true. Of course, I’ll still have my paramours—that’s the Xenian way, but it won’t affect our bonding.”

Marji, Julietta’s younger sister: “I know it’s not right, but I’m so envious! I wish I were being bonded to my mate. I wish I were going to be empress! I don’t know why Julietta’s not more excited.”

March, the man from her past: “How could she have left me without so much as a goodbye?”

The villain: “Everything is coming together perfectly.”

Claimed by the Cyborg Description

March Fellows assumed he had all the time in the galaxy to pursue a relationship with Jules, an alien exchange student from Xenia, until she vanished without a trace. After years of searching, he finds his lost love on the eve of her arranged marriage.

The daughter of the Xenian emperor, Julietta never meant to fall in love with a Terran man while visiting Earth. Leaving to fulfill her responsibilities on her home planet opened up a hole in her heart that could never be filled. When March, now a cyborg, unexpectedly shows up just before she is to be bonded, she struggles to find the courage to turn him away a second time and follow through with her duty. Before she can act, the lovers are thrust into a political conspiracy that threatens the Xenian empire and their lives.

Buy Links

Amazon: http://hyperurl.co/Claimed-Amz

iBooks: http://hyperurl.co/Claimed-iBooks

Kobo: http://hyperurl.co/Claimed-Kobo

Barnes & Noble: http://hyperurl.co/Claimed-BN

Excerpt from Claimed by the Cyborg:

(In this scene, it’s the eve of Julietta’s bonding. Her completed bonding tunic has arrived and her sister wants her to try it on).

Marji’s eyes were wide. “You don’t want to see what it looks like? Come, on! I’ll help you.” She scooted off the bed. “Try it on, please?”

“All right,” she capitulated. The tailors had done an excellent job, but it wouldn’t hurt to verify the garment fit—and it would make Marji happy. At only sixteen solar cycles, her younger sister’s bonding wouldn’t occur for several years. Like most girls her age, she talked about her future ceremony constantly, planning what she would wear, who would attend—and wondering who her mate would be.

Julietta stripped down to her panties and a lacy bra. She’d adopted Terran undergarments when she’d attended school off planet. For the bonding ceremony—and thereafter for the rest of her life—she would wear the traditional one-piece Xenian undergarment. Her choice of underwear—one more thing bonding would force her to give up.

She pulled on the pantaloons sewn in the royal huber fabric. Shimmering threads of pale rose were woven throughout so that the garment sparkled. Marji undid the fastening of the shift and held it out. Julietta slipped her arms through it, and her sister did up the back.

The weight of her world rested on her shoulders.

Her sister reached for the headdress.

“That, too?” she protested, but bent at the knees so the crown could be settled on her head. Her legs threatened to buckle, but she shored up her strength and remained upright.

“You look beautiful. Just like an empress!” Marji gushed.

“How appropriate, considering,” she replied dryly.

The ceremony brought her closer to becoming the sovereign. The bonding—and production of an heir—were the only two hurdles left. Then, when her father passed the scepter upon his fifty-first solar cycle, she would rule with her consort at her side.

The last time she’d tried on the dress, the crystals hadn’t yet been sewn on. She took a few exploratory steps.

“How does it feel?”

Crushing. “Fine.”

“It’s perfect!” Marji said.

Could she walk down the aisle without toppling over, without bursting into tears, without making a spectacle of herself in front of thousands?

She would have to—what choice did she have? As firstborn, she was heir apparent. Her future had been decided on the day of her birth, twenty-five solar cycles ago. “Let’s take it off now.” She lifted the crown from her head and tilted her neck from side to side in relief. Marji undid the back of the shift and removed the garment. While she hung up the tunic, Julietta donned her clothing.

“I can’t sleep, I’m so excited for you,” Marji said. “Tomorrow night, you get to see your consort! I don’t know why you never chose to see him before this. As future empress, you receive special dispensation and could have seen him if you’d wanted to. I would have jumped at the chance!” She sighed. “But, like everyone else, I won’t see my future mate until the Sha’A’la and won’t meet him until the bonding ceremony.”

“Whether I see him or not, the future will proceed as scheduled,” Julietta said.

“Father says he’s very kind. Mother says he’s supernova!” she said. “That’s means handsome.”

“I know what it means. Mother has been watching too many Terran vids.”

Marji giggled, and, despite herself, Julietta smiled.

Though she hadn’t seen Earth herself, their mother loved Terran culture and had encouraged her eldest daughter to study there and explore the wonders of the Blue Planet before fulfilling her duty. Julietta had had two glorious years of freedom, two glorious years of being “Jules,” two glorious years of being just another Terran Technical Institute student, two glorious years with a man who most definitely qualified as supernova, two glorious years to pretend the future would never come.

Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol has been the no. 1 best seller in science fiction romance, bdsm erotica, and holiday fiction on Amazon. She’s the author of two science fiction romance series featuring tough alpha heroes: the Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance cyborg series and the Breeder science fiction romance series, which emphasize character-driven stories written with a touch of humor and sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara lives in Missouri with her own alpha hero, her husband.

Website: http://www.carabristol.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/9aRJj

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cara.bristol.3

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/Cara-Bristol-Romance-178661122147994/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Cara-Bristol/e/B004D8KZTQ/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/carabristol/

Twitter, @CaraBristol: https://twitter.com/CaraBristol

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4136271.Cara_Bristol

This week’s theme for the My Sexy Saturday blog hop is “Sexy Becomes Her.” To borrow the organizer’s words: Have you noticed a sexy woman walk into the room? Sometimes they know they’re sexy and play it up, sometimes they don’t have a clue. Regardless of if they know or not, they draw people, both men and women, to them like bees to honey. Sometimes they are witty and make anyone in their sphere feel special even if they aren’t someone they love. Have you ever met someone like that? That person is what this week is about…”

Heroines don’t get much more like that striking female archetype than Xia, the adorable, dangerous felinoid (aka cat-girl) heroine of my science-fiction romance Bad Kitty (Chronicles of the Malcolm, Book 2). She’s one of the ones who knows she’s hot and plays it up. Cats, after all, know they’re gorgeous.

The other reason Xia’s making a guest appearance today is a salute to all the people marching in Washington and other cities, wearing hats with cat ears (pussy hats).I like to imagine what would happen to some bloviating male chauvinist who tried to grab this pussycat without her enthusiastic consent. The felinoid attitude toward sex is “hell yes–but only if you ask nicely.”

Rahal took a deep breath, drinking in Xia’s personal perfume, the flavor of her skin and blood. The young woman, probably ten years his junior, was an aphrodisiac. If he could bottle her scent, the nuances of her blood, he could make enough credits to repair all the damage to Siantana and get started on the rest of this poor, beat-up planet, while treating himself to a first-class vacation somewhere that didn’t smell like burning.

No, just the scent of her skin, delectable as that was, wouldn’t be enough. He’d need to capture the grace of her tail, the charm of her posture—meltingly sensual, yet alert to the danger around her and ready for action—the blooded velvet power of her hands, the exact cock of her ears and especially the left ear’s one adorable white tip.

If they’d been alone, he’d be halfway to seducing her by now. Maybe farther along than that because she smelled of heat, of need, as well as all the other delicious things that were permanent parts of who she was. She might already be as wet under her short skirt as he was hard in his pants. She might be willing to hit the ground on hands and knees and cock her pretty tail for him right now, then talk later.

And there would be talk, once the first urgency passed, because everything about her screamed there was far more to Xia Suarez than her undeniable tawny beauty. Intelligence, passion, danger.

If he believed the old granny-and-grandpa tales of knowing your mate at first sight, he’d think she was fated to be his. Stars, he half believed it anyway, or at least wanted to believe it.

Then something processed in a brain so drunk on hormones he was thinking about as clearly as an adolescent. Suarez. She shared a last name with the dark, very human captain and his huge, humorless (but handsome, in a big, beefy, heavily decorated Furagi style) husband. She pronounced her name like a human would. She’d obviously been adopted off-planet as a kitten.

Even if she was his mate, she might not know about mating, how it overcame all rationality and better judgment—not that their species had a lot of either on an ordinary day. He’d just have to make sure she fell for him fast and hard, and explain the rest later.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / iBooks (iTunes)

Be sure to check out the other participants in My Sexy Saturday and show them some love by commenting and/or sharing.

Sophie Mouette has a new story available! (OK, it’s not precisely new; it appeared in an anthology years ago. But it’s a new ebook release.)

My coauthor Dayle Dermatis and I had so much fun writing this short lesbian erotica. It involves giggling while imagining sexy scenarios, which is almost as good as giggling with a lover because you’re both happy and satisfied that your brains are running out your ears…

Photo © Alan and Vicena Poulson | Bigstock.com

When cop Elle and hippie Destiny get it on at the beach, they discover a mutual love for voyeurism and exhibitionism that leads to even more steamy encounters. A sexy-fun short story from acclaimed lesbian erotica author Sophie Mouette.

“Busted” originally appeared in Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists (Cleis Press, 2006) and was reprinted in Soaking Wet: Lesbian Sex Stories, Cleis Press, 2011.

Buy it at any of these fine online retailers:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | iBooks

Photo (C) Larisa Koshkina/PublicDomainPhotos.net

I’ve started the last several years with a “theme”, some grand concept that I hoped would guide me in growth and new adventures. 2014 was the Year of Yes, which worked out well for me.  2015 was the Year of Bountiful Possibilities. Unfortunately I forgot that not all possibilities were good. (I know that the bad things would have happened anyway, but the ironic contrast to my hopes made the darker times even more challenging.) 2016 became the Year of Joy and Rebuilding. I’ll still have to do a recap of my year and how well that theme worked for me.

Short version: there seems to be a consensus that 2016 sucked and in many big-picture ways that’s true. 2016 featured major, career-affecting shakeups in the publishing industry; the deaths of many beloved public figures including personal heroes David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, and Carrie Fisher; and a presidential election that led my 83-year-old mother to mutter things about having lived through Nazis and McCarthyism once already.(She didn’t actually say, “I’m too old for this shit–AGAIN” but it was implied.) But due to some wise moves on my part–including a consistent yoga practice and finally admitting it was a good idea to try therapy and antidepressants in the same way it was just plain sensible to get treatment for my asthma–I was able to find joy again in my own little corner of the world.

Taken at Kripalu in February 2016. I started finding joy again on that retreat. And I’m going back in two weeks.

I debated with myself about what phrase would sum up my hopes for 2017. I’ve been feeling hobbitish lately, living in a very cozy, pleasant rut. Without losing the delightful aspects of hobbiting, I’d like to shake up my routine–learn and try new things, play more, step out of my comfort zone in fun ways. Some the things I have in mind are simple, everyday adventures I just haven’t taken the time to enjoy: visiting Sturbridge Village; hiking in a new-to-me state park; getting up stupid early to beat traffic and be at the beach for sunrise, so I can spend a few hours at the ocean before beginning my workday. Some are bigger: getting over my fear of driving into Boston (I can manage Providence, and have no problem with ridiculously long highway drives, but Boston daunts me); auditing an online course in a subject that intrigues me, such as archeology or astronomy; reviewing the smattering of German I learned in college; experimenting with new genres; learning new software for self-publishing instead of continuing to kluge conversions from Word documents, which doesn’t always work gracefully. I’d also like to examine my habits and patterns, especially where writing and gardening are concerned, and figure out if they’re necessarily the best way to do things. And if I could actually invite adventure into my life (without encountering Smaug, to continue the hobbit analogy), that would be grand.

I bounced these ideas off my husband. The Year of New? The Year of Yes Part 2, since I’d once more focus on saying yes to life even when it scared me a little? The Year of Renewal, accent on new? The Year of Pushing Boundaries? None of these seemed quite right.

Himself suggested The Year of Exploration.

Photo credit: George Hodan/PublicDomainPictures.net

I rolled it on my tongue a few times and decided I liked the sound of it. It covered both the playful side of what I hope to bring into this coming year and the more serious examining-processes aspect. It conjures up images of ancient maps and messages in forgotten languages. Explorers are allowed to be afraid, because unknown places can be scary–can be legitimately dangerous–but they keep moving. Explorers learn. Explorers grow. Explorers may get lost, but that’s often when they find the interesting thing they didn’t know they sought. And explorers don’t settle for engrained, familiar habits; they always ask what’s next.

It’s 2017. Welcome to my Year of Exploration. Wish me luck on my journey. Share maps if you have any; they might not take me where I want to go, but I’m open to checking them out.

Here’s hoping I find plenty of “treasures” in terms of experience, ideas, and self-knowledge–and no dragons!

This week’s My Sexy Saturday theme is “Sexy in Space,” which means sharing something from one of my science fiction books. I pondered going back to one of the earlier titles, but Buck, Naked is on sale for 99 cents through 12/15, so it’s no-brainer to give you a snippet of Buck and Aleema. In case you’re wondering, while Buck, Naked is the third book in the series, you can start with it and pick up the others later. (Due to vagaries of the publishing industry, I can put Buck on sale, but not the other two. It’s a long story.)

My Sexy Saturday is about sharing 7 paragraphs, 7 sentences, or 7 lines of your work that fit the week’s theme. So without further ado, here’s seven paragraphs of spaceship sex. The Malcolm has just survived a devastating attack thanks in part to Buck’s alien abilities. Both Buck and Aleema are injured, although thanks to their modifications, they’re healing fast. They’re taking some desperately needed time to regroup and celebrate being alive.

He could stand. Might not be the most graceful maneuver, but he could do it. But as he gazed at Aleema, another idea occurred to him. “Stay where you are,” he said. “But take your clothes off. For what I want to do, this is a good spot.” He wouldn’t have to worry about bumping up her bad arm, either, but that was an afterthought. The important part was she looked like a goddess there, marked with blood and power and love. Goddesses should be worshipped on your knees.

He knelt up and put his arms around Aleema’s waist. He rested his head against her belly and breathed in her scent. It had been a hellish day. She was blood-spattered and filthy and they never had taken time to clean up after the sexytimes between battles—good marling stars, that was all today, wasn’t it? They’d just arrived back on the ship today.

And they’d been desert-dusted and sex-smeared when they arrived, because B’to’s ship had a homemade fold-drive, but didn’t have a functioning sonic cleanser. (Xaquan didn’t sweat, they’d explained apologetically, so fixing it hadn’t been a priority.) The smell of woman, and well-sexed woman at that, came through the less pleasant hints of blood and burning. That made everything all right.

One of Aleema’s hands stroked his hair while the other simply cupped the back of his head, a little awkwardly due to the splint.

No matter how close he felt to Aleema, no matter how he was skirting that big, beautiful, deadly black hole called falling in love, they had some major obstacles to deal with before happily ever after—if that was even a possibility. It might be close to “ever after” with her immortality and his ability to regen, but that was assuming they made it that far.

So for now he wouldn’t regret or worry. He’d live in the moment for as long as he could manage it.

More about Buck, Naked

Click the title or the picture to get more information on the whole Chronicles of the Malcolm series!

Blurb:

TODAY ONLY!

BUCK, NAKED is 99 cents–along with more than 50 other books.

​50+ FREE books and $0.99 BARGAINS

Download Here!

Seasonal/Holiday Reads

Contemporary

BDSM Erotica, Romance

Steamy

BBW, Hotwife, Lesbian & Menage

Paranormal, Shifters, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Time Travel, Thriller

…

Download Here!

On the download page, please visit our author sponsors:

Allyson Lindt, Angela Kay Austin, Anita Philmar, Ashe Barker, C.P. Mandara, Caitlyn Lynch, Candace Laville, Carmen Fox, Catherine Taylor, Cherie Claire, Cherime MacFarlane, Dariel Raye, Demelza Carlton, Diane Rinella, Eden Summers, Elianne Adams, Elli Everson, Eva Lefoy, Giselle Renarde, Heather Anastasiu, Ines Johnson, Iona Findley, Jacintha Topaz, Jade Onyx, J.F. Holland, Josie Jax, Kathryn R. Blake, LaVerne Thompson, Lilah E. Noir, Lily Harlem, Lucian Carter, Lucy Felthouse, Maggie Carpenter, Marie Tuhart, Melissa Stevens, Mira Stanley, Miranda Lynn, Moctezuma Johnson, Monica Corwin, Muffy Wilson, Natalie Rios, Nia Farrell, Nikky Kaye, Normandie Alleman, Paloma Beck, Pandora Spocks, Raven Anxo, Robin Stone, Rosalie Redd, Sara Daniel, Sotia Lazu, Teresa Noelle Roberts, Tori Dean, Wendy Lynn Clark, Wren St Claire

Multi-author deals include stories from:

A.C. Nixon, Abby Hayes, Abi Aiken, Airicka Phoenix, Angelica Dawson, Ashen White, Bernard Tristan Foong, Bethany Shaw, Blak Rayne, Crystal Dawn, Danielle Gavan, Dawn White, D. F. Krieger, Elvira Bathory, Erzabet Bishop, Gale Stanley, Gemma Parkes, Gina Kincade, Isis Pierce, Jacqueline Sweet, Kiki Howell, Maddie Taylor, Pablo Michaels, Paige Matthews, Phoenix Johnson, P.T. Macias, R.B O’Brien, Rebecca Lorenson, Rozlyn Sparks, Sky Purington, Tara Crescent, Tierney O’Malley, Tricia Owens, Tanith Davenport

I was looking at the cover for Christmas Stockings the other days and decided that while the image was awesome, the typeface needed work for beauty and legibility. Luckily, that’s not hard to fix. So, just on time for holiday enjoyment, I present a new cover! Just on time, too–the novella has been recommended in a round-up of short romantic and erotic fiction, compiled by the wonderful and wise Xan West. Look at who else they included; I’m honored to be included.

This Christmas is out of control!
Reconnect with Jen and Drake from OUT OF CONTROL in this standalone short holiday novella.
Artist Jen’s striped holiday stockings factor in her mathematician husband—and Dominant—Drake’s equation for a delightfully kinky evening. What goes better with striped stockings than a striped ass, after all?
But first they have to survive Jen’s first faculty black-tie holiday party.
Jen, with her wild hair and wilder stockings, doesn’t mind standing out. But she’s not so crazy about standing out as the only person at the party without a college degree. Accomplished artist or not, that’ll raise eyebrows in academia. She doesn’t want to reflect badly on Drake, but she’s also not about to let snobbery go unchallenged.
Who knew going commando except for a garter belt could give a submissive the courage she needs to be herself in an uncomfortable environment—at least with her hot Dominant by her side?
And who knew the rewards for becoming the unlikely toast of the Mathematics Department party would be just what Jen wanted for Christmas?

Warning: Academic obtuseness, artistic obsessions, glass-blowing metaphors, a lot of color-coordinated rope, a little pain-play and a pair of incendiary stockings.

Amazon US  / Amazon UK  / Barnes and Noble / Kobo / Smashwords

Note: if you’re checking out the B&N and Kobo links and the new cover doesn’t appear yet, be patient. It can take a while to filter through the system.

STUFF YOUR E-READER with Scandalous Stocking Stuffers
Wednesday, December 7, 2016!
​
50+ FREE books and $0.99 BARGAINS
(including Buck, Naked)
Plus Last Chance to WIN a $450 Amazon Gift Card.
Just answer one simple question when you enter the giveaway.

By sharing about the giveaway on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest or Linked In –
you increase your chance to win!

Enter the giveaway here.

No purchase necessary to win. Void where prohibited.
Contest ends December 7, 2016. Winner will be notified on December 8, 2016.
*** By entering this competition contestants agree to subscribe to receive news from
​Scandalous Reads, CPM Books, and the following sponsoring authors:
Allyson Lindt, Angela Kay Austin, Anita Philmar, Ashe Barker, Carmen Fox, Caitlyn Lynch, Cherime MacFarlane, Dariel Raye, Demelza Carlton, Diane Rinella, Eden Summers, Élianne Adams, Elli Everson, Eva Lefoy, Ines Johnson, Iona Findley, LaVerne Thompson, Lilah E. Noir, Maggie Carpenter, Marie Tuhart, Melissa Stevens, Miranda Lynn, Moctezuma Johnson, Monica Corwin, Muffy Wilson,
Nikky Kaye, Normandie Alleman, Robin Stone, Rosalie Redd, Wendy Lynn Clark***

Image credit Cristie-Guevara/Publicdomainpictures.net

This week’s theme for the “My Sexy Saturday” blog hop is My Sexy Holidays. This bit of holiday cheer from this week’s new release The Lion of Frenchman Street is romantic, but not explicitly sexy. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of sexy, kinky goodness in The Lion of Frenchman Street; it’s a kinky erotic romance, after all. (For a steamier snippet, try here.)

It was hard to admit to himself how much he was looking forward to Christmastime with Kelsey, and not just because it provided a great excuse to gift-wrap her in red and green rope. New Orleans had unique traditions he thought she’d enjoy. Besides, he wanted her to spend part of Christmas day with the family. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a lover to share a family holiday. The last one had been Deneice, back in high school. No matter how serious he’d gotten with other girlfriends or subs, they’d spent holidays apart.

Not this year. Not this woman. He wanted to show her what Christmas was like here. And good lord, he wanted his family to get to know her better. What was happening to him?

He took Kelsey’s coat and hung it on the back of the door. “Mom wants to know if you’re coming to midnight mass with us on Christmas Eve. We usually go to St. Patrick’s in my parents’ neighborhood, but she suggested St. Louis if you came along, and that’s something to experience.”

She sighed. “Not happening. Don’t want that lovely cathedral struck by lightning.” She was fiddling with her scarf as if it fascinated her rather than meeting his eyes. Not like her. Then again, they’d never talked about religion. She might be Buddhist or pagan or atheist and not entirely comfortable with his family tradition.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and clasped her wrists. “In New Orleans, we get dispensation if our sins are interesting enough. Otherwise that cathedral would have burned down two hundred years ago. And since it’s New Orleans, the music’s great, no matter which mass we attend. But if you’re not into it, we’ll see you Christmas morning. Later we can catch the bonfires…”

She began to fidget with her scarf, looking away from him. “I figured this would be easy to say, but it’s not. I’m going home for Christmas, with a couple of days on each end.” She turned in his arms so she could—finally—look at him. Definitely not the face of someone in the holiday spirit. “I’m sorry. We just fought out the details this morning. And if you’ve ever been around an Italian family fighting things out…let’s say I need a drink.”

Family was family. He got that. But so much for red and green rope, and midnight mass at the church he’d attended as a boy, and the Christmas bonfires on the Levée along the river.

  * * *

Blurb: On Kelsey’s first night tending bar at a New Orleans jazz club, she catches the eye of handsome saxophonist—and Dominant—Peter Lyons. He sweeps her into his world of music and kinky sex, introducing her to fierce pleasures she’s always dreamed of. As they explore the crazy, romantic city she comes to love as much as he does, she’s falling hard for Peter, too. Even though he claims “true love” is for songs, not real life, it’s hard to resist his rope skills and his vintage movie star looks, his passion for life and the hints of pain in his blue eyes.

But Kelsey’s only tending bar as a stop-gap. When she’s offered a dream job out of town, Peter’s old scars break open and everything goes out of tune. Can music, passion, and the magic of New Orleans get them back in harmony?

Available on Amazon for 99 cents, or everyone’s favorite price, free, with Kindle Unlimited.

Photo credit George Hodan/PublicDomainPictures.net

If you want a short, fun story full of naughty holiday shenanigans–if you’re celebrating Thanksgiving next week, it’s perfect to read while the turkey’s cooking–check out Christmas Stockings. By the rules of this blog hop, I can feature only one story, so click here for a sexy snippet.

Amazon US  / Amazon UK  / Barnes and Noble / Kobo / Smashwords

If you enjoyed this, please check out the links below for more holiday sexiness from terrific authors!

Welcome to installment #167 of My Sexy Saturday, the blog hop where, every Saturday, authors bring you steamy excerpts (7 paragraphs, 7 sentences, or even 7 scintillating words) centered on a particular theme. This week’s theme is Sexy in the Sky, so even though I have a kinky novella, The Lion of Frenchman Street, coming out on 11/17, I’m going to give you something from Buck, Naked. Because foreplay in a stolen cargo flyer? Definitely sexy in the sky!

He tried to move slowly, tried to be gentle, yet suave. That worked until her lips softened and parted more and he couldn’t resist darting his tongue in.

Then they were devouring each other. It was fierce and awkward and eager as a couple of teenagers who were still figuring out the best ways for mouths to fit together. The flyer wasn’t the most comfortable place for shenanigans—there was only the one seat and they’d both been too polite to take it, so they were standing hunched over and hoping the flyer made no sudden moves that would knock them down.That didn’t stop his hands from roaming down her back to cup that tempting, curvy ass or hers from exploring his back and groping his butt. Didn’t stop his cock from springing to hot, hard life. They were flying low, probably the level the flyer used for its delivery route. The city was a blur around them, maybe because the flyer was moving, but more likely because all his blood had rushed from his brain to his dick so anything he saw that wasn’t Aleema didn’t make sense.

He shifted position, reluctant to move away from her, but desperate to slip his hand between their straining bodies. Her nipple was osmium hard, and her breast felt as full and delicious as it had in his fantasies. Her breath hissed as he circled the nipple. He broke off the kiss long enough to say, “This all right?”

Her answer wasn’t exactly coherent, but “yes” was definitely in there, along with some gasping and what had to be the name of some deity.

Her shirt had tear-tabs. He tore. Stars bless the person who invented tear-tab shirts with built-in bras, because Aleema was naked to the waist now, and like he’d imagined, her nipples were plump and tempting. They really were the color of a dendar plum, and he wondered if her cunt was that delicious color too, and getting ripe-plum juicy for him. Bit too soon to explore that. He might be rusty about the whole sexytimes procedure, but he knew most women wanted you to take your time. Aleema seemed more than able to speed things up if she wanted to.

He kissed his way down her throat, paying extra attention to the scars that stood out on that smooth dark skin, scars that suggested she, like him, had tried to end the madness at some point and hadn’t been able to. Nibbled along her collarbone. He wanted to rush to the swell of her breasts, but he forced himself to kiss his way millimeter by millimeter to that delicious arc and then down, kissing and licking and nibbling around that tempting nipple but not quite touching it. Finally, when she was squirming against him and making small, frantic noises, he caught that plump, puckered nipple in his mouth. It crinkled even more, hardened under the assault of his lips and tongue and Aleema’s moan was like a hand stroking his cock just right.

Then her hand actually stroked his cock through his pants and it felt better than his imagination could have conjured, even with fabric and her yellow gloves in the way of flesh on flesh.

More about Buck, Naked

Click the title to get more information on the whole Chronicles of the Malcolm series!

Blurb:

So, you probably noticed the US had an election on Tuesday. (Let me cut in here and say I won’t be offended–or even know!– if you stop reading this post and wait for me to get back to my regularly scheduled cat pictures, travel tales, and sexy excerpts. One of the latter will be up tomorrow morning.) I don’t usually get political on here, and I’m not going to go into a long rant, but I’m worried for a number of reasons about what will happen next.

I don’t believe Trump is literally Satan Incarnate. Mind you, if it were possible to make deals with the Devil, I bet he’d try it. He seems to love gaming the system so he can win, and I don’t think he always considers long-term consequences.

However, it’s obvious the Republican party would like to see changes that will have a serious effect on women’s rights, LGBTQ-etc. rights, minority rights, healthcare, etc., and they’re now in a much better position to enact these changes. I also fear this rancorous campaign has given a sense of legitimacy to a lot of festering hatred–and that the inevitable reaction to these shows of hatred and violence will be more anger, more hate, and probably more violence, because people of all stripes are capable of awful things when they feel threatened or furious enough. I imagine a lot of people who supported the winning candidate have concerns of their own. Someone who voted for Trump because they hope he’ll address rural and working-class concerns better than “insiders” have–for what it’s worth, I think it’s legitimate to say both major parties have neglected those needs–may not like some of what tagged along with that vote. My old neighbors back in the Land of Apples, for instance, are a conservative lot in an economically troubled area, probably all for “making America great again” and reinvigorating the small town–but I’m confident most of them didn’t want to invite the KKK to the party.

So, a few things:

1) I’m pansexual and pagan. This will probably surprise no one.

2) I’m in a position of relative privilege. I’m white; I’m middle class; I’m married to a man; we have good insurance through the Cat-herder, and his law enforcement job is not likely to go anywhere even if a new “regime” brings on economic kerfuffle; we live in Massachusetts, which will be a safeish place to be if decisions about issues such as same-sex marriage are shunted back to the states; and for various reasons, I no longer have to worry about access to birth control or abortion for myself.

3) Far too many people don’t share these privileges. I’m worried for a lot of my friends, but I’m still figuring out the best ways to be useful, not just angry and scared.

4) And for the part that really fits here:  Stories matter more than ever in difficult times. I’ve had a hard time focusing on the flow of words lately between Election Madness and a minor but exhausting health problem. But I’ve been reading like crazy and it’s kept me relatively sane and calm. While my country is divided and factionalized in many ways–hell, the whole world is–most of us can agree that it’s fun to read about Happily Ever After. If you, or someone you love, needs a brain break, I recommend a romance or six. It won’t solve major social problems or even pay your gas bill, but it’ll give you a taste of love, adventure, and best of all, hope. A few hours with hope, happy endings (and sexy bits if you want them) may make it easier to cope when you get “back to reality”.

My HEA stories are edgier than some: explicit, often kinky sex; unconventional relationships, and queerness of various flavors abound, as do magic, science fiction elements, and struggles against oppressive governments. They’re not going to be for everyone. But Romancelandia is big and diverse, like my country–and unlike my country at the moment, it mostly gets along well. Whether you’re craving historical romance with African-American main characters, stories set in Bollywood, steampunk epics with a mix of straight and queer characters, or a series focusing on everyday life in a small town in the American heartland, you can find it. Heroes and heroines range from the guy/girl next door to cowboys, cyborgs, and shapeshifters, cops to mafiosos. Possible partnerships? The majority of romances are male/female love stories–that’s the biggest market–but with a simple Amazon or Goodreads search, you can find gay, lesbian and bisexual main characters, and increasingly, transpeople and nonbinary characters in various pairings. Heat levels range from sweet romances with nothing but kissing to books that make mine look tame. So whichever of your friends needs some literary stress relief, there’s probably a romance that will do the trick.

5) Be gentle with each other, at this time and always. Love one another if you can. That’s a lofty ideal that’s not always going to be possible, but when it’s not, don’t be hateful. The world’s hard enough.

What are your favorite “comfort reads”? Let me know in comments, or ask me for book recommendations. Speaking of comments, I’d prefer it if you take political arguments elsewhere, but since I brought up the subject in the first place, I won’t stop you. Just keep it polite, please.

This week’s theme for My Sexy Saturday is “My Sexy Ex”, but since The Lion of Frenchman Street comes out on November 17, I wanted to highlight that–and while there are a few exes in the book, they’re the kind that broke a good man’s heart, not the ones who inspire wistful, romantic memories. Luckily, the organizers of the blog hop are always willing to let you stray from the theme as long as you follow the rules: 7 paragraphs, sentences, or words from one of your books that, in some way, illustrate the notion of sexy. So without further ado, seven short and slightly kinky paragraphs.

Image credit: Bezik/BigStock.com

She was laughing about that when he moved in close, caught her in his arms again. Naked against his hard, suit-clad body, she felt vulnerable, open, exposed. Yet, strength surged through her. She’d chosen her vulnerability, and that was a kind of power.

One hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head back. The other cupped her ass. His mouth didn’t ask questions as it claimed hers. It answered them.

Yes, he was in charge.

Yes, he’d take good care of her.

No, he wasn’t going to harm her. He might hurt her, but in ways she’d enjoy.

Yes, it might get scary, but the pleasure would be worth it.

No, he wasn’t going to let her off the hook unless she used her safeword. But he wouldn’t let her down, or let her go until they were ready for the night to end.

 * * *

Blurb: On Kelsey’s first night tending bar at a New Orleans jazz club, she catches the eye of handsome saxophonist—and Dominant—Peter Lyons. He sweeps her into his world of music and kinky sex, introducing her to fierce pleasures she’s always dreamed of. As they explore the crazy, romantic city she comes to love as much as he does, she’s falling hard for Peter, too. Even though he claims “true love” is for songs, not real life, it’s hard to resist his rope skills and his vintage movie star looks, his passion for life and the hints of pain in his blue eyes.

But Kelsey’s only tending bar as a stop-gap. When she’s offered a dream job out of town, Peter’s old scars break open and everything goes out of tune. Can music, passion, and the magic of New Orleans get them back in harmony?

Pre-order it on Amazon now!

If you enjoyed this, please check out the links below for more sexy adventures from terrific authors!

Sunrise in Beaupre, Quebec, Canada

A sunrise is a good place to start, isn’t it? I’m delving into the madness that is NaNoWriMo–AKANational Novel-Writing Month, AKA 50K words in November (with a major holiday in there), AKA Destroy Your Sanity and Health. The latter is why I’m not actually going full out this. My mind and body are almost back where they should be, but I’m still being gentle with myself. On the other hand, I want to get back to the prolific writer I used to be and even a half-hearted attempt at NaNoWriMo should help me get back into good habits.

I’ll be working on the next Cougars, Car, and Kink book. Wish me luck!

It’s My Sexy Saturday #165. That’s more than 3 years of making your Saturdays a little hotter! Thanks for checking out the blog hop every week so we can continue the fun of sharing 7 paragraphs, 7 sentences, or even 7 scintillating words that show off a certain aspect of our romantic and sexy books. This week’s theme is “My Sexy Adventure”–perfect for my 11/17 release. In this novella, The Lion of Frenchman Street the heroine Kelsey is exploring both the city of New Orleans and her own kinky desires: definitely adventures! Here’s a snippet, in which Kelsey and her new lover Peter, a Dominant, visit City Park.

Image credit: Bezik/BigStock.com

 Despite what he said about just strolling, Peter seemed to have a destination in mind. He guided her to a stand of magnificent live oak trees, which to Kelsey’s amazement were still green. “We lost a lot of trees during Katrina.” The weight of memories gave Peter’s voice a rough edge. “But these survived somehow, and the Spanish moss has grown back. And that,” he added, sounded much more cheerful, “has certain advantages.”

He steered her under one of the trees so cascades of Spanish moss surrounded them. They’d moved only steps off the path, but the lush gray-green veil created a fairytale world of lacy light and shadow, an illusion of privacy. “Advantages,” Peter repeated as he pulled her close.

The kiss was rough and searing, the sort Kelsey would expect in the bedroom, not in a public park. Being outside, and not nearly as hidden as they felt, just added to the thrill of Peter’s hand tugging the hair at the nape of her neck, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, his tongue invading, taking charge. She began to tremble inside, a quiver of excitement—of aroused submission—that quickly spread throughout her body.

Still ravaging her mouth, Peter unzipped her fleece and slid one hand under its purple protection to cup her breast. Even through her shirt and bra, the touch jolted her. One instinct nudged her to protest, “Not here.” A fiercer impulse told her to let go and put herself into Peter’s hands, and that one was too strong to resist. She was a little stiff from nerves, but she tried to relax into the caress.

As if he sensed her concerns, he pulled back from the kiss and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’re safe.” Those simple words, said with authority, allowed her to melt into the subversive pleasure of being public, but hidden. His thumb circled her nipple. “This will just be a tease, and I’m shielding you from anyone who might see through the moss.” He pinched as he spoke the last words. Kelsey’s thin lace bra was no real protection—not that she wanted protection—and she stifled a gasp. She trusted Peter when he said no one could see their little game, but that wouldn’t do much good if people could hear the moans of an aroused woman through the moss.

“Of course,” she used some of her remaining brain power to admit, “the idea of being caught is a turn-on. But in the fantasy, it’s someone who enjoys the show, not a grandma and three little kids.”

He chuckled throatily as he slipped his other hand between their bodies to rest against her mound. “That’s the issue. Otherwise I’d figure out a way to tie you up with the Spanish moss.”

If that intrigued you, here are a few more important details:

Blurb: On Kelsey’s first night tending bar at a New Orleans jazz club, she catches the eye of handsome saxophonist—and Dominant—Peter Lyons. He sweeps her into his world of music and kinky sex, introducing her to fierce pleasures she’s always dreamed of. As they explore the crazy, romantic city she comes to love as much as he does, she’s falling hard for Peter, too. Even though he claims “true love” is for songs, not real life, it’s hard to resist his rope skills and his vintage movie star looks, his passion for life and the hints of pain in his blue eyes.

But Kelsey’s only tending bar as a stop-gap. When she’s offered a dream job out of town, Peter’s old scars break open and everything goes out of tune. Can music, passion, and the magic of New Orleans get them back in harmony?

Pre-order it on Amazon now!

If you enjoyed this, please check out the links below for more sexy adventures from terrific authors!

I have a “new” book coming out on November 17! The reason new is in quotes is that The Lion of Frenchman Street previously appeared in NOLA Naughty Nin9, the boxed set I was in this summer. But that’s no longer available and so my suit-sporting, sax-playing Dom Peter and his snappy sub Kelsey are singing out on their own.

I found this image before I started the book. Peter may have been inspired by it, just a little. Image credit: Bezik/BigStock.com

Blurb: On Kelsey’s first night tending bar at a New Orleans jazz club, she catches the eye of handsome saxophonist—and Dominant—Peter Lyons. He sweeps her into his world of music and kinky sex, introducing her to fierce pleasures she’s always dreamed of. As they explore the crazy, romantic city she comes to love as much as he does, she’s falling hard for Peter, too. Even though he claims “true love” is for songs, not real life, it’s hard to resist his rope skills and his vintage movie star looks, his passion for life and the hints of pain in his blue eyes.

But Kelsey’s only tending bar as a stop-gap. When she’s offered a dream job out of town, Peter’s old scars break open and everything goes out of tune. Can music, passion, and the magic of New Orleans get them back in harmony?

Another inspirational image. (I’d love to credit it, but it’s one of those Tumblr posts that lost its attribution ages ago. If you recognize it, sing out, because the photographer deserves credit and hell, a few bucks.)

Pre-order on Amazon now for a mere 99 pennies!

This week’s theme for My Sexy Saturday, in which we share 7 words, sentences or paragraphs of one of our works, is “Sexy in History“. It’s primarily a shout-out for historical romance, so for a few minutes I scratched my head. I’ve never written historicals, except for a few short stories (two of which involved vampires). My latest book, (Chronicles of the Malcolm 3) is a science fiction romance–not exactly chock full of knights in armor or dukes in ballrooms

Then I thought outside the box. There’s still history in the Chronicles of the Malcolm version of the 26th century. Just because some of it hasn’t happened yet in the real world? Minor quibble.

So without further ado, here’s seven sentences, in which Aleema reveals she’s seen a bit of history–more than a human ought to. This part of the book isn’t exactly sexy, but it’s important to letting the characters reach the point of trust where sexy, romantic things can happen.

“Look at me, Buck.” He complied. He even met her eyes and didn’t look away again immediately. “I was born in Nairobi, Kenya, Old Earth in 2388. I was a science officer in the United Nations of Earth spaceforce and stayed on as a civilian xenobiologist after my service was up.”
Buck shook his head. “That would make you…over two hundred years old.”

More about Buck, Naked-
Click the title to get more information on the whole Chronicles of the Malcolm series!

This week marks the first anniversary of Xia’s arrival at our house. Not Xia my fictional cat-girl, of course–though Bad Kitty came out last September so I just missed that anniversary–but Xia the cat. A few weeks later, Tinkerbelle* came home from the shelter to join Xia and senior cat Noodle. (It took her months to come out of the basement except for meals, but now she’s integrated into the family.)

* I’m not sure why her name is Tinkerbelle rather than Tinker Bell, like the fairy from Peter Pan. Perhaps because she’s belle, or beautiful. Or perhaps because her original owner never double-checked the spelling.

It’s a regular cat-iversary celebration around here. The cats, being cats, are unimpressed, though happy enough to suck up some extra petting and attention as I wax sentimental. But I figured this was a good time to make use of the Internet for its primary purpose: sharing cat photos.

First, Noodle, our senior kitty at 15+, will indulge in some shameless promotion. Forget the book, though. Isn’t she a handsome cat?

And now for the anniversary kitties, Xia and Tinkerbelle.

Xia, Tink, and Noodle (left to right) in November 2015. It’s still rare for them to eat together this peacefully.

Xia as a kitten–showing why we named her for my “Bad Kitty”.

Tinkerbelle looking sweet and pensive. Which she is, when she’s not chasing Xia with murder in her eyes.

Grown-up Xia playing desk cat.

This week’s My Sexy Saturday blog hop theme is “My Sexy Magic.” I almost turned on the wayback machine to grab some sex-magic from one of the Duals and Donovans: The Different paranormal romances.

Then I thought about it and realized that love and even lust are magical in their own right–any place, any time, even in the far future. So I grabbed a little bit of that kind of enchantment from my new science-fiction romance Buck, Naked. Being a scientist, Aleema’s trying to convince herself nothing magical or even that important is going on. I don’t think she believes it, though!

For a second, just like last time, it felt uncomfortable to hold someone close. Then he pulled her closer, half into his lap. It was an awkward position for both of them, yet she felt herself relaxing at the contact and sensed he too was letting go of tension.

Maybe tension that had been stored in his body since the invasion of Montgomery.

It’s just because both of us have gone without being touched for far too long. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s no magical connection here. Her attempt at logical thought wasn’t all that convincing. Touching him felt as if it should mean something.

It didn’t, she told herself. Or maybe it did, but she had no idea what that something was.

She forced herself to pull away. “Don’t go,” Buck murmured. “I like you right where you are.”

“It can’t be comfortable. That seat’s small and I’m not exactly a tiny flower of a female.”

He shrugged. He shrugged a lot, she realized, as if words weren’t the easiest thing for him and he relied on that and other gestures to convey a lot. In this case, what he conveyed was the power of his body, the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles under his clingshirt that echoed the movement. That felt way too pleasant for her peace of mind.

More about Buck, Naked-
Click the title to get more information on the whole Chronicles of the Malcolm series!