​One night he doesn’t remember – One night she’ll never forget!
A Sailor’s Delight
Lee Santiago went from one mistake to the next. When a friend dies, exposing his mortality all too well Lee’s family steps in to force him to make something of himself. He can’t be a party boy all his life and if he wants to sign his life away, it will be on the dotted line. He doesn’t even have time to say goodbye. Anyway it was only a drunken one night stand. 

Isabelle was always the good girl. Until that night. When the man she’d always worshiped finally noticed her. She couldn’t say no. She’s heartsick to find out he doesn’t remember it. Isabelle’s life crashes around her when the results are in. The truth comes out and she has nowhere to turn. She looks for Lee, but he’s gone. 

Will he be man enough to step up and face the consequences when he learns the truth? 




Excerpt:
“I’ve never seen you at a party before. I thought you were a good little girl.” His teasing voice sent thrills throughout her body.
“Today’s my birthday.” Isabelle snuggled closer to him. His body seemed to surround hers.
“So, does that make you legal today?”
Isabelle nodded vigorously then groaned. Her head swam from the movement. Maybe, just maybe she’d had a bit much to drink. Lee would take care of her though. He’d promised.
“But not legal for drinking yet.”
Isabelle pouted then sniffed.
“So what? Most of the people here aren’t twenty-one.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
Isabelle craned her head around to look at him. Surprised at the hard note in his voice.
“But you’ve been drinking since you were in high school.”
“Again, doesn’t make it right. So, you decided to cut loose now that you’re an adult?”
The small smirk at the side of his mouth fascinated her. Somehow the tip of her finger made its way there. His lips were strong but soft, warm against the softness of her finger. The scruff around his mouth prickled her finger as he rubbed his face against it.
“Don’t play with fire, little girl.” He nipped the tip of her finger as he winked at her, sending a zing through her body.
Isabelle giggled. Normally she thought herself out of Lee’s league, but tonight that didn’t bother her in the least. She’d had too many jello shots to care. Snuggled in his arms, his hands on her affected her more than any bit of alcohol could. Combining them gave her a warm glow.
Isabelle wiggled, the trail of his fingertips tickling her neck and circling her ear. She could feel her nipples tightening, glad for her push up bra. It made her boobs look fabulous, but was thick enough to hide her body’s reaction.
Lee chuckled in her ear, sending warmth pooling low in her belly. Isabelle caught her breath as he trailed his finger down her breast unerringly circling her nipple.
“Cat got your tongue, little girl?”


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Soul-melding sex turns up the temperature in this tale set in central Florida. Love empowers the wounded to reach out for healing. Injured in body and mind by her students, Lyla Gray tries for a new life as governess to a widower’s young children on the DuPree orange and alpaca ranch.
Lyla recovers her professional confidence quickly, but what about her personal goals, including romance? What is she supposed to do when, despite a sex drive on overdrive, she’s paralyzed by the scary part of men? It’s not easy with sex exuding young males on the ranch, including sweet, delicious looking Mark DuPree, who’s lost in his grief and responsibility and looking for someone to help him regain some kind of life.
Before long, she’s tending to the tattered emotions of those worse off than she is. Tension ties all the quirky characters together, and Lyla sees that there’s no help for any of them if she doesn’t help them all. She learns there are many ways of teaching and loving. Lyla’s personal recovery speeds up each time she gives herself to others. But now vandalism, paternity questions, mysterious deaths, and long-standing feuds in the community dump plenty on Lyla’s plate and gobble up her obsession with herself. Will Mark help her save herself from the past and learn that there’s nothing scary about loving after all?
Teach Me Too
Excerpt: Prologue pp. 1-2
 
Lyla Grey lay on the floor of the supply closet. She couldn’t turn the doorknob without her hands. Since her attacker had knocked her down with a boot to her face and brought down a slew of shelves with his flailing arms, she couldn’t even get up.
At first, his shrieks had ricocheted inside her brain. Then she’d screamed too, as fear vied with agony for center stage.
A torrent of tears poured out of her and when they dammed up, her head slumped, a dead weight, onto the tile. Her knees retained the flexed position he had forced on them and stiffened, as did her arms restrained behind her. Images of the encounter raced through her mind. She would never forget his face—that of a man-boy, but a devil too.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to think other thoughts. She was alive. She was going to be all right. She was going to teach again someday, and be happy, and find love with a husband and children. Never again would she feel such terror, because...she had bested the devil. What she’d had to do was dreadful—horrific—but it had saved her life.
At first, she squinched her eyes shut. Finally, though, the dangling lightbulb goaded her eyes into taking in the view at face level. Those tiles...those tiles had hurt her when he’d kicked her down. Blood-soaked strands of her hair, spread in front of her face, grew tacky as time passed. Bloody clots and shreds of tissue—his and hers—floated in and out of her field of vision. The coppery stench of his blood and sweat twisted her stomach as with a callous fist. She vomited. As her stomach emptied, she imagined she was heaving out the confidence and balance and poise that once were hers. After a while, she noticed the gore congealed amid the red juice and shattered glass bottles the man-boy had brought down with the shelves.
Someone who used to live inside her whimpered, “Mommy? Daddy?” She heard the dried-up voice, but she didn’t know that person anymore. She was just a big ball of loneliness.
She wished she could hug herself.
The shriek of sirens outside set off involuntary shuddering. Her brain formed words, though her mouth was too clogged with pain to utter them. Help me. He hurt me. He made me afraid. That was the worst, the insidious anxiety that flattened her like a rolling pin.
Heavy, no-nonsense boots thudded through the hallway, along with the terrifying timbre of male voices calling to each other.
“This way. Let’s get her.” The voices that should console her made her frantic instead. She shivered all over, even in parts that hurt too much to move, but she clung to her hope. The classroom door banged shut, and its glass rattled.
“She’s in here,” Heavy Boots said as he flung aside the closet door. “Shit! Oh, man…” She heard him retch, as she had done. She had become the horrible thing that created disgust.
More boots. Another voice. “Look at this, sir. We’re going to need the metal cutters.” Her lungs felt like cement. Her mind floated away to a picture she’d seen of a girl in an iron lung, unable to move, unable to take a breath on her own. Maybe that girl imagined a demon sitting on her chest, forcing down serving after serving of terror.
At long last, a third pair of legs knelt at eye level. “We’ve got you now, ma’am. Can you tell me your name?”
She flinched when he eased in closer, his thighs and crotch at eye level. Merciless trembling took hold of her, and again she tasted her bile rising into her throat.
She mouthed the words the officer wanted to hear, but they were inaudible. She uttered a godforsaken groan. She knew her name, for heaven’s sake, but was she the person who used to own that name? Maybe her tears washed the blood away...and her face with it and made her someone else, someone she no longer knew.
As the metal cutter whirred behind her, she clenched her hands and released an inhuman cry. Damn it, the devil isn’t going to win, so help me God. I’m going to get my life back, no matter what it takes.
 
 
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For Charley Winters love means loss and pain. She’s spent the last five years struggling with her grief. Existing, not living. Drawn to Saskatchewan, she travels west take the job she’s always wanted. But life gets complicated when she's rescued from a vicious tornado by her dead husband’s double, a man who makes her feel things she hasn’t in years. Add to that a native myth, a shaman, a green-eyed wolf, and her husband’s ghost ... Can she lift a millennia old curse and find joy and love again?



Excerpt 1 Prologue to Hello Again
 
Once there was a Sioux maiden whose father had given her as wife to a cruel medicine man, one who practiced witchcraft and allied himself with the evil spirits. The husband constantly found fault with his young wife and beat her. Unable to remain with her husband for fear his next beating would kill her, she grabbed a small bundle of food and ran away from her home. The tribe searched for her for many days, but when they could find no sign of her, they eventually accepted that she was dead.
But the woman wasn’t dead. She wandered the prairie for many days and nights until, exhausted, without food or water, she sat and prayed for the Great Spirit to come for her. Knowing what an evil man her husband was, the Great Spirit took pity on her and sent a man to rescue her, but he was not really a man. He was the chief of the wolves, a shapeshifter, whose rare red coloring distinguished him from the other wolves. The chief fell in love with her and took her back to his village where she was amazed to find what she was sure were all the wolves and coyotes of the world.
For a year, she stayed with him in his village, falling more and more deeply in love with him, until she refused to consider ever leaving him. In exchange for her love, the chief of the wolves gifted her with the ability to talk to the wolves and other animals. The wolves treated her well, fetching whatever she needed to survive from the camp of men—flint for fire, a pot to boil her buffalo meat, a knife to cut it, and skins to make her clothes.
One night, her lover came to her tepee and he was greatly distressed. Her people were on the move, going on a great buffalo hunt, and they were headed this way. Unless she faced them and told them who she was, her people would kill all the wolves who’d cared for her, and because of an evil enchantment, he was powerless to protect the wolves whom he loved as much as he did her. He had to leave to find the source of the evil spell to protect those entrusted to him, but he would return for her as soon as he could.
The woman was sad, but knew she carried a secret within her—twins, powerful in good magic, who would be their father’s legacy. The next day, she saw the long line of people coming toward the wolf camp and went out to greet them as her lover had told her to, surrounded by the wolves who’d refused to leave her. Leading her people were her husband and her father who recognized her. Agreeing to go back to her village, she refused to go back as her husband’s wife and insisted they build her a tepee of her own where she lived with the wolves until the time came and she gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl, both with their father’s unusual coloring and eyes as green as the prairie grass.
When the medicine man saw the children, he was enraged and cursed his wife and her lover, vowing neither one would ever be happy. Using his evil magic, he slew the wolf guardians and stole the twins away, selling them to the tribe’s enemies as slaves—the girl to one, the boy to another. In his jealousy, he sold his soul to wakhášica, an evil spirit, who trapped the chief of the wolves in his wolf form.
Unable to defend himself, the chief of the wolves fell prey to the evil medicine man’s spear. The medicine man skinned the wolf and presented the pelt to his wife’s father as a trophy, asking the man to intercede to force his wife to come back to him.
Believing her wolf lover would return to her and help her find her lost children, the woman refused her father’s pleas to go back to her husband. Day and night, she prayed to the Great Spirit and begged her lover to come back for her as he’d promised, but he didn’t come. In her grief and loneliness, she went to see her father. When she entered his tepee, the first thing she saw was her lover’s pelt. Distraught, she fled the tribe, wailing and lamenting the loss of her lover and her children, and wandered the prairie in search of his spirit.
Pitying her, the Great Spirit turned her into a wolf and reunited her with the pack she’d lived with, and there she stayed for the rest of her days, mourning with them.
Often at night, especially when the full moon silvers the land, the wind carries the lonely howls of the lovers searching for one another, still separated by the medicine man’s evil curse.
 
 Available from Amazon

​

She never thought she’d see him again. Not after what she’d done to them… Sarah Cosgrove wakes from labor and emergency surgery to find her soul mate staring down at her. It’s been six years since she’s seen the face of the only man she’s ever loved. Since she broke Logan’s heart. Logan Harper, a skilled killing machine and top ranking member of Fairlane Trade International, entered a hostage situation, expecting the task to be quick and easy. It becomes anything but when he finds Sarah—the woman who broke his heart six years ago—giving birth to another man’s baby. When she tells him her life is in danger from the powerful and abusive father of her child, Logan has no choice but to protect the woman he once loved and her newborn baby, but he vows to never love her again. As they trek through Europe to get to safety, the mystery of the last six years begins to unfold, sparks fly, and emotions rise to the surface. Can Logan keep the love of his life safe without letting her back in his heart? Can Sarah learn to trust a man again after being abused? Will soulmates reunite?


Excerpt

“Sarah?” She blinked at him. A small smile formed on her lips. She looked tired, but happy. Her eyes seemed to hold a secret. Like there was something she had just learned that made everything all right. Logan watched as the light in her blue eyes grew dim, but the smile remained. “Sarah.” Logan put his hands on either side of her face. His fingers speared through her hair. “Take care…of her, Logan. Don’t let him find her. He can’t find her.” She pulled in a shallow breath. “Always loved you. Was always yours,” she whispered to him. She smiled a bit more, and then that was it. Her eyes closed gently. Her chest slowly fell. The heart monitor flat lined. Logan stared, unwilling to believe his eyes. Unwilling to believe his ears. He could hear the baby was still crying as they checked her over. Her lungs sounded healthy. He listened as the other doctors worked between Sarah’s legs, one pushing on her stomach. Sarah’s limp body moved from the pressure of the doctor’s hand. And then reality came crashing in at the same time a wave of heat spread over his body like fire. Sarah’s chest didn’t move. He watched another beat, not believing what he was seeing. No. Logan roared. His face never left hers as he roared to the fates. His whole body shook with anger and disbelief as he bellowed his denial. “Sarah! No! No! Help her!” he howled to the doctors. A middle-aged male nurse was suddenly next to him and tried to push Logan out of the way. “Sir!” The nurse had his hands on Logan’s arms. No one would be able to move him from her side without his approval. “Sir, you need to move so I can help her.”  The nurse spoke in heavily accented English. Numbly, Logan moved away from the one woman he had ever loved, from the one person who could bring him to his knees. He stumbled back as he watched the doctors and nurses work frantically to bring her back. Another nurse walked over to him and placed something in his arms. He gazed down. And he saw the most beautiful baby in the world. And just as Sarah was and had always been, so too, was Madeline. She was his.


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Los Angeles homeboy Magdaleno is paroled from prison after serving time on a gun possession frameup by a rival, Rico, who takes over as gang shotcaller in Mags’s absence. Mags promises himself and his Salvadoran immigrant family a fresh start, but he can’t find either the decent job or the respect he craves from his parents and his firefighter brother, who look at him as a disappointment. Moreover, Rico, under pressure to earn money to free the Cyco Lokos’ jailed top leader and eager to exert his authority over his rival-turned-underling, isn’t about to let Mags get out of his reach. Ultimately, Mags’s desire for revenge and respect pushes him to make a decision that ensnares him in a world seeded with deceit and betrayal, where the only escape from rules that carry a heavy price for transgression is sacrifice of everything – and everyone - he loves.



Excerpt

“Ay yo, homes!” A familiar voice sliced through the bustle. “Mags!”
I twirled faster than a ballet dancer, my stomach clenching. Fuck. It was him. Rico. Slashing across the street aiming the shopping bag in his hand at me. His baggy shorts slung so low the waistband of his boxers showed. Socks, white as fluorescent light, pulled neatly to his knees. Ink flowing out of the arms and neck of his plaid shirt. Exactly how he looked the last time I saw him.
The memory of that day bore down on me. We were kicking it at a street corner, and Rico was bragging about how he shot a trey-eight into the ceiling of a liquor store he was jacking, and the storeowner pissed his pants. As he was talking, he took the .38 out of his waistband in a live re-enactment, and I just had to take the piece, feeling its cold weight in my hand for just a second or two before handing it back to Rico. That second or two cost me twenty-six months of my freedom.
Rico threw his arm around me. A thick gold chain shone around his neck. I had a cord with an orange arrow slung around mine.
“Ese.” My voice had as much life as a three-day-old soda.
I never knew if he dropped that thirty-eight by accident, as he said, or if he saw his chance to set me up. I kinda figured the latter. Someday, somehow, I’d get him to admit the truth to me.
“I thought that was you. But I said to myself, ‘Mags, in that fuckin pendejada? Couldn’t be.’ But I looked again and simón, it was. Whatup with this shit?” He flicked the red nose ball. I caught his wrist in midair and stared him down in his swamp eyes. “Easy, fool,” he said.
I dropped his wrist. “Just making a few bones.”
“I heard you was back. We been waiting for you at the garaje, but you ain’t showed up.” Rico drilled my eyes. “You avoiding your homies or what?”
The ball was itching my nose like an oversized mosquito bite. “I got parole and all that. I just wanted to get set up first.”
“I figured you needed a couple days to get readjusted, get some pussy.” He shook his head. “But damn, this shit?” He shook his head. “You ready to get crazy again?”
“Keeping it lo pro, Rico.”
Rico studied me. I suddenly glimpsed myself in his eyes—I had become a small brown man.
He brightened up. “Hey, I just had a kid. A boy. I’m buying some bottles and blankets and shit right now.”
“Felicidades.”
“With Maribel. But I got my side action, feel me?”
“You were always real slick with the jainas.” I knew a little flattery would soften the rough edges of the meet. He smiled big.
“Tell you what, loco, I’ll give you some lessons, make you real smooth.”
“Yeah, I’m out of practice now.” I tried to laugh.
“A lot of changes gone down in the barrio. We need to catch you up.” His arm hooked my neck in a chokehold. “You our firme homeboy, man, you’ll always be part of la familia. We need you, fool.” He squeezed a little too hard. “You come by the garaje. We got a jump in day after tomorrow. We’ll be waiting. We’ll hook you up again, then you can dump this shit.” He pointed his forefinger at me with a barbed wire smile. “Missed you, Mags.”
I watched him vanish into the crowd of shoppers, and spat on the ground to get rid of the bad taste that had flooded my mouth.


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​
In Chicago they say Speed Kills, or at least they have for the last seven years since the handsome running back Jerome Speed lead the Chicago Grizzlies to divisional and conference championships. 

Those who know Danika Albright’s parentage assume she needs for nothing. As the daughter of a self made billionaire she shouldn’t, but her father never wanted his children to be spoiled and demanded they make their own way with little to no help from him. Using the skills she learned growing up with the privileged class she’s working her way through school as a stylist when Jerome crosses her path. 

​With paternity suits hitting double digits the last thing either of them wanted was to let their desires outweigh their previous attempts at relationships. Especially when one of those suits has decided she wants more than money, she wants Jerome back. 

Can Danika and Jerome look past what they know to discover what really happens when you fall in love with a person that wants you and not your name?



Excerpt

In front of him, lines of red and white lights outlined the streets and showed the travelers. Although he knew down below honking and yelling was rampant, in this moment there was silence. Dani closed her eyes and stuck her long body out, crossing her legs at the ankles.
“This place is pretty cool,” he admitted after they’d soaked in the atmosphere. “I’ve never come here.”
“Want to see the best part?” she asked as she crumpled up the remnants of her hot dogs and tossed the paper in a garbage can.
“Sure,” Jerome copied the action then followed her to a door.
Fear gripped him as she opened it and a blast of air hit. There was a screen on an open air observation deck. About twenty feet long and six feet deep.
Dani walked out as if she were window shopping. A guard looked at him.
“In or out?” he asked and Jerome slipped in, but kept his back against the glass wall.
A cool strong wind blew across his face as he reached for Dani’s hand. He pulled her back, but she stood fast and turned to him, taking his one hand in both of hers. They were dainty and just covered his. Wow, he was going to have to drop his man card over the edge of the building. His massive mitt must have crushed her hand.
Taking a step backwards she tugged lightly, but he refused to step closer to the screen. No sir, he was not made for heights and he wasn’t even sure how she got him up here. It just seemed all she had to do was make a suggestion and it all made sense.
“This is why I came up here,” she explained. “We are over a thousand feet in the air with the wind blowing through my hair.”
Jerome reached for her and caught the binder for her hair. Removing the binding caused her dark hair to cascade from her misshapen bun. Thick locks tumbled over her shoulders and framed her face.
“Now it’s blowing through your hair,” he said huskily as his finger brushed the hair back and cradled her face.
She stepped closer to him and the reaction hit his groin. Catching her sky blue eyes, he saw them dilate and her lips plumped. Jerome’s instincts had been right. She didn’t want to work with him because she wanted him.
“Oh my God,” a woman screamed as she rushed to his side and slapped his arm. “You’re my husband’s favorite player.”
Dani walked toward the corner of the deck, leaving his scared ass stuck with the uber fan.
“Don’t go anywhere,” the woman ordered with a pointed finger. Jerome balled his fist on the opposite side of the woman. “He’s inside. He’s going to freak.”
Jerome smiled and looked at Dani silhouetted by the lights of the city as she rested her forearms on the bar. Wind kept her face clear as her hair blew behind her. Biting her lips, she looked back at him as he took pictures with the man and shook his hand, not even acknowledging his existence. On the field he could register a dozen players, but keep his focus straight ahead on the end zone.
Danika Albright was quickly becoming that thick white line. 

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The summer before senior year, Chloe starts an internship as a reporter at a local newspaper. While on assignment, she meets Kieran, a quirky aspiring actor. Chloe becomes smitten with Kieran’s charisma and his ability to soothe her soul, torn over her parents’ impending divorce. But as their bond deepens, Kieran becomes smothering and flies into terrifying rages. He confides in Chloe that he suffered a traumatic childhood, and Chloe is moved to help him. If only he could be healed, she thinks, their relationship would be perfect. But her efforts backfire, and Kieran turns violent. Chloe breaks up with him, but Kieran pursues her relentlessly to make up. Chloe must make the heartrending choice between saving herself or saving Kieran, until Kieran’s mission of remorse turns into a quest for revenge.


Excerpt 

​The carnival sets up for two weeks every summer in a field outside town. Everyone goes. It’s something to vary Indian Valley’s monotonous diet of bowling, the single-screen movie theatre, miniature golf, and hanging out at the Dairy Cream. 
Kieran grabs my hand as we stroll into the fair. It’s a riot of dazzling lights, whirling rides and thumping music. I scan the crowd, hunting for Morgan and Jade, who I spot waiting for funnel cakes.
“Hey, there are my friends.” I wave frantically at them with my free hand as I tug Kieran with the other. Morgan sees me, points me out to Jade and they both look my way.
Kieran yanks my hand in the opposite direction. “We’ll catch up with them later.”
“I want you to meet them. I told them all about you.”
“I just want to play my favorite game for you first.”
I can’t refuse. I let myself be pulled and make an apologetic face at them. Morgan’s expression hardens. She says something to Jade. The crowd swarms between us, and I lose sight of them.
Kieran steers me to a shooting-at-moving-ducks game and grabs a rifle. He’s a good shot and soon wins a white teddy bear with a red satin heart sewn on its chest. He hands it to me.
“For you.”
“Thank you. It’s adorable.” I proudly tuck it under my arm.
“Just like you. Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Me, too.”
We make for the food concessions. “Carnival hot dogs are the best,” Kieran says. “The pizza and hamburgers blow.”
“Totally,” I say as we line up.
We buy hot dogs slathered with relish—and root beer, of course—and sit at a picnic table. Kieran straddles the bench, patting the seat in front of him. I sit astride like him. He inches closer so our knees touch.
“Open wide,” he orders, looking at my mouth.
I obey. He feeds one end of the hot dog to me, then leans in and bites the other end. I crack up and almost choke.
“Don’t laugh,” which comes out something like “doan waf” through Kieran’s mouthful of hot dog.
No hands, he chews, swallows and takes another bite. I do the same. We manage to eat the hot dog, and at the end, our lips touch. Kieran presses mine into a kiss.
“So that’s why you like carnival hot dogs,” I say when we break apart. “To steal kisses.”
“Hey, I told you they were the best. Hold on, you have mustard on your face.” He swoops in and licks the side of my mouth.
I wipe off his wetness. “Ew, Kieran!”
“Mmmm, salty.”
I giggle. He swoops in again and licks all around my mouth and lips. His tongue tickles, and I laugh as I shake my head, sucking in my lips, trying to get him off me as I crack up harder, which only encourages him. He slurps my cheeks and chin, and I try to recoil out of his reach, but he pulls me to him. Finally, he backs off and dabs my face with a napkin as I recover my breath.
“You’re worse than a puppy,” I say.
“Ruff, ruff.” He pants and holds up his hands like paws, then jumps to his feet, holding out his palm. “Come on. Time for rides.”
We run like it’s an emergency.
“Cup of tea, Madam?” Kieran points to the tea cups, then pushes open the just-closing gate and leaps in a cup.
We spin madly in the tea cups, chase, block and slam each other in the bumper cars, cling to each other in the haunted house. We finish with a ride on the Ferris wheel.
It’s getting late, and the crowd has swelled with rowdy revelers who obviously made a pitstop at a bar before the carnival.
“Let’s go,” Kieran says, after a guy, drunk or stoned, stumbles in front of us.
“I really wanted you to meet my friends.”
“We’ve got plenty of time for that. It gets nasty this time of night, a lot of fights.”
“Okay.” I give a last three-sixty turn in case Jade and Morgan appear. Kieran’s right. Cliques of older guys and girls hang around the perimeter, smoking and drinking from paper bags.
We swing our clasped hands as we walk to the parking lot. I wish the night would never end. When we get in the truck, he blasts the air conditioning and rolls down the windows. We pull out into the street, and as the AC chills, I close my window. Using his control, Kieran buzzes it down again.
“The AC’s on,” I say.
“I know, but doesn’t it feel great? To feel cold air and warm air at the same time?”
He accelerates. Bathtub-temperature air whooshes along the side of my body, while my chest is cooled by the AC. The combination feels luxurious.
“You’re right. It does feel great!”
He grins. “Told ya.”
“My mom would kill me for doing this.”
“That’s why you’re hanging with me, not with her.”
He snakes an arm over and slides off the elastic holding my ponytail. I shake my hair loose and let the wind whip it.
“That’s it, sweetpea, be free.”


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         Godsend (Hell Yeah! Heritage)
                
Godsend is the first novel in the Hell Yeah! Heritage series. If you ever wondered where those 
McCoy men came from…these historical novels will take you to their beginnings. Deeply sensual stories of romance and adventure, they will capture your imagination and your heart. 
History is definitely worth repeating. 

Thrust from his home, Austin McCoy travels west to build a new life for himself in the wilds of Texas. Civilization has not yet arrived to the wilderness where he settles and his nearest neighbor is more than two days’ journey through Indian territory alive with bear, cougar and wolves. While difficult, carving out an existence amidst these dangers is not what weighs heavily on his heart. With nothing and no one to share his days, Austin is lost. The answer to his prayers comes from a very unexpected source… 

Jolie Dumas has also been torn from the only home she has ever known. The beloved daughter of a plantation owner and his quadroon mistress, she is horrified to be sold into slavery after the death of her parents. Bought and paid for, she is chained and walked from New Orleans to Texas. Before she can be delivered to her master, the slave trader is killed and Jolie escapes. Alone and vulnerable, she seeks a safe place to hide, not knowing the sanctuary she finds may end up being the one place she truly belongs. 

When Austin opens his heart and home to the beautiful woman, he has no idea the future she faces. Knowing what awaits her if anyone finds out the truth, Jolie hides her identity from him. Having been betrayed before by those she trusted, she has no idea that in Austin’s eyes she could not be more perfect. 
She is his Godsend. 

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EXCERPT

“Come on, Sandy. Time to lock the door and call it a night.” Austin McCoy urged his dog to join him inside. “We’ve had a hard day. Time to rest.”
The big hound stepped over the threshold, making for the hearth and flopping down in his usual spot.
“We made good headway today. I think we’ve cleared another acre, soon we’ll have enough room for a few more cows.”
Sandy’s only response was to roll over.
“Are you hungry? I’ll hang this pot of stew over the fire to warm it. Tomorrow, I think maybe we’ll put some corn in the coals to roast.”
Austin’s voice rang in the empty space. Taking off his hat, he chunked it on the table. Yes, he was going crazy. The only live creature he had to talk to was his dog and Sandy was a poor conversationalist. He sank down in a ladder back chair with a cowhide bottom and let his gaze rove around the small log cabin he’d built with his own two hands. “Home, sweet home.” The simple dogtrot structure was made from pine logs he’d cut and stripped of their bark. After he’d peeled them smooth, he’d notched the logs on the corners, then set them together, filling the cracks with a mixture of red clay and pine straw. This humble abode was nowhere near as fancy as the home he’d left in Tennessee, but Austin was no longer welcome in his family home. After his mother died, his father had remarried. When his young wife’s wandering eye had fallen on Austin, his father quickly decided it was time for his only son to venture west and make his own fortune. Stephen McCoy had given Austin his inheritance early, wishing him well and sending him on his way.
The lure of adventure was strong and the prospect of his own land in the rich territory of Texas had been some consolation for walking off and leaving everything he’d ever known and held familiar. Now, six months since he’d broken ground six miles south of the spot the Indians called Red Mound, he was fast beginning to regret the decision. Hard work and the dangers he encountered daily were not the cause of Austin’s deep depression. No, it was the isolation. The loneliness. The complete and utter void that seemed to surround him, made Austin want to throw his fists in the air and rail at the heavens. What he wouldn’t give for someone to talk to, someone to hold at night–someone to love.
Austin longed for a wife.
How many nights had he lain alone in his bed and ached for release? He’d not been with many women, but since becoming a man he’d not gone so long without feeling the sweet relief that only a woman could give. And what scared him more than anything, was that there was no end in sight to this exile. Months and years of loneliness stretched before him. How would he endure it? Where would he find a wife in this wilderness? He’d made the long journey to Nacogdoches, only to find women as scarce a commodity as silk. And if there was one, he was no prize. His mind returned to his home in Tennessee, the women he’d courted, the plans he’d made. All of that was gone. What did he have to offer a lady?
Only love, only to be cherished.
Running a frustrated hand through his long hair, he stood up in disgust. “No use wishing for something I can’t have, is there boy?”
Feeling rested enough to feed his hunger pains, Austin hung the cast-iron pot on the hook over the flames. While he was there, he stoked the fire and added another log. Sandy raised up and cocked his ear. “Did you hear something outside?” Austin grew still to listen also. He heard howling in the distance, but nothing out of the ordinary. “Just that big old timber wolf and his pack, nothing unusual.” Sandy lifted his nose to take a whiff, giving Austin a long look from his limpid brown eyes.
“You want to check it out?”
Just voicing the question gave them both a jolt of energy. The dog and man both rose to head for the door. Austin picked up his rifle, just to be on the safe side. “Let’s go see what we can find.”
…In the small lean-to, full of tools, Jolie nestled down in the straw. She was scared and hungry, but at least she had shelter of a sort, enough to give her a chance at a few hours of sleep. The scratches on her body made her feel raw and achy. As she closed her eyes, the sorrow in her heart knew no bounds. With no food, no money, and nowhere to go, Jolie didn’t think she would make it. She’d tried to find some berries to eat, to no avail. The only sustenance to be found was the raw turnip she held in her hands, which she would attempt to eat as soon as she rested enough to have the energy. As she laid her head against the rough wood, Jolie tried to reason with herself about all that happened. What had she done to deserve this? Was she less than her Aunt Lisette or Grandmother Dora? Was she not a human being like they were?
Jolie hugged herself and tried to reason the mystery of slavery. All that her Grandmere and mother had told her, the whispers that she’d heard from Eula and her papa, all the things that she’d seen while at Oak Hill came back to her. The tiny cabins the workers had lived in, how they lined up for water and food to be doled out to them, the men who guarded them on horseback with dogs at their sides–all of the things that she’d chosen to ignore and not see. If she didn’t acknowledge the injustice, it wasn’t real. Closing her weary eyes, she knew there would be no more avoiding the travesty. The nightmare had become her reality.
…Sandy took off ahead, his nose to the ground. Austin followed closely, his rifle loaded and ready. Not too many days ago, he’d seen a panther. He had no wish to kill the big black cat, but it could take down one of his oxen, not to mention a full grown man. Austin cocked his ear toward the area where the three head of cattle were penned. There was no unrest, so he didn’t think there was a predator about. When they came even with the shed, Sandy veered over to nose around. The closer he came, the faster he walked, tail in the air. “What is it, boy?” Austin asked. “Something there?” He figured it was an armadillo or a possum, hopefully not a skunk. The last run-in the mutt had with a skunk, Austin had dipped him in the creek four times, scrubbing him with lye soap until they both could tolerate the stench.
With only the light of the moon to guide him, Austin drew closer to the shed where Sandy was now nosing his way past the door that had somehow been left ajar. Hearing the dog’s whimper, his curiosity rose to a high level. His animal wasn’t reacting the way he would expect if there was prey or some type of threat. No, Austin was confused to see Sandy’s tail begin to wag. “What have you found?”
Coming close, he pulled the door open a bit wider so the moon’s rays could filter into the near darkness. “What?” he whispered. At first he thought the intruder was a man. The hat pulled down over the face and the jacket obscured his view, but the long hair and bare legs sticking out from what appeared to be a dress of some kind convinced him otherwise. He blinked once or twice. Were his eyes deceiving him? Perhaps this was some kind of cruel joke that his mind was playing on him. This was a woman. Going to his knees, he knelt by the small trespasser. “Ma’am? Are you all right?” He shook her shoulder gently.
The touch jerked Jolie awake. All she could think was that Coffi or the bear had her. A scream erupted from her lips before her eyes focused on the face in front of her.
The sudden noise caused Sandy to bark. Austin sat back on his hills, giving the girl a little space. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Before, Jolie would never have thought to fight for herself, but after what she’d been through, having been sold into slavery, defending herself had become second nature. But without a weapon or light enough to see her surroundings, all she could think about was running. Jumping to her feet, she tried to figure out a way to get past the big man who blocked her way. “Please, just let me go. I’ll leave. I promise.”
Leave? He took in her tattered clothing and bare feet. She was so small. “You don’t have to leave. Come into the cabin where it’s safe. Aren’t you hungry?”
The turnip she’d taken from his garden still lay at her feet. “Yes.” Could she risk it? There was the possibility this man could hurt her, but what choice did she have? “If you’ll let me rest for a little while, I’ll be on my way soon.”
Austin didn’t know what to think. “Are you alone? Where did you come from? Those questions and more were racing through his mind. He rose and offered her his hand. “The ground’s rough. Do you want me to carry you?”
Jolie would’ve laughed if she’d felt more confident. “No. I’ll be fine. I’ve walked a long way already.”
He couldn’t fathom what she was saying. Knowing what lay beyond his small clearing, Austin was flabbergasted to find this tiny female seeming to be at the mercy of the world. “Please, come in and let me check your feet and get you something to eat. Sandy and I were just about to have supper. Somehow, he knew you were out here.”
“He did?” Jolie laid her hand on the big dog’s head. “He’s soft.” The memory of the vicious dogs used on the plantation to keep the slaves in line caused her to jerk her hand back. “He won’t bite me?”
“No, he won’t bite.” Austin was anxious to get his guest inside. “We’re glad to have some company, aren’t we, Sandy?”
His dog answered with a bark, which made Jolie smile. “Okay, for a little while.”
As Austin led his guest back to the cabin, he tried to make her feel more comfortable. “My name is Austin McCoy. What’s yours?”
“Jolie.” She answered automatically, then immediately regretted it. Would her buyer look for her? Did he know her name? She really had no way of knowing one way or the other.
“Jolie.” Austin said it, savoring the way her name sounded on his lips. “That’s a beautiful name. Where are your folks? Were you attacked by Indians?” The thought of her just barely escaping with her life made his blood run cold.
“We were attacked. My parents are dead.” Both of those things were true, albeit unrelated.
“I’m so sorry.”
When he opened the door to the cabin, the smell of food caused her to sway. She hadn’t realized how weak she’d become.
Austin shot out a hand to stabilize her. “How long since you’ve eaten.”
“A couple of days.” She tried to remember. Coffi hadn’t really cared whether the women had eaten or not.
As soon as he got Jolie inside, Austin began to do everything he could do to make her welcome. “Here, sit here.” He gave her the more comfortable chair, a rocker that sat next to the fireplace. “And water, let me get you some water.” Moving to the bucket of well-water he kept on the small cabinet in what passed for his kitchen, Austin ladled a cup full and carried it to her.
Taking the water, she gratefully took a drink. “Thank you.” It tasted so good, she greedily drank it all.
“I’ll get you more.” He hastily refilled the cup, then found a bowl to dip up some of the stew. “This is rabbit, but I’ve added some potatoes and onions I raised in the garden. I think it’s edible.”
“You’re very kind.” Jolie sat the cup on the floor and raised her hands to grasp the clay dish with the tin spoon.
“My pleasure,” Austin said and he meant it. Even by the light of the kerosene lamp, he couldn’t make out her features. The hat cast a shadow over her face, but from what he could see of her neck and arms they were covered with mud and numerous scratches. “I think I’ve got an herb salve that might make those sore places on your face and arms feel better.”
Jolie heard him, she just couldn’t stop eating long enough to answer.
Raised a lady, she managed not to shovel the food between her lips–just barely.
It did Austin’s heart good to watch her eat, but he couldn’t stop worrying about what would happen to her if she left again. “Where will you go? Do you have relatives?”
Swallowing the last delicious bite, she licked her lips, then hung her head. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” Just the thought of trying to find a place to live, some way of making a living, was more than she could comprehend.
Austin wanted to offer help. He wanted to do something. Noticing again her tattered clothing, he spoke quickly. “Do you have any other clothes?” He hadn’t seen any type of satchel, but she might have left it at the lean-to.
Jolie glanced down at the rag she wore. “No, I must look a mess.” What could she say? “I ran to get away.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you were terrified. Would you like to wash up and change? I could pour up some water for you.”
Cleaning herself sounded like heaven. “Please, yes. But I have nothing else to wear.”
“I’m sure I can find something.” He rose to find her anything of his that would come close to fitting. “A shirt, I’ll find a shirt for you. As small as you are, the length will be almost like a gown.”
As Jolie sat there by the fire, her belly full, with a dog at her feet, she was transfixed by the big man with the long honey blond hair moving around the room, doing his best to make her comfortable. As she waited, she trembled. Residual shock from all she’d endured still echoed throughout her body.
“Jolie, you can come and clean up.” He snapped his finger. “Sandy, get up. We shall wait outside. When you finish, we’ll return.”
He gave her a kind smile, then left her alone. As soon as he was gone, she glanced around. After Oak Hill and even the bungalow, his home was simple and barren. But for the first time in weeks, she felt safe. Taking the rag he’d given her to use, she dipped it in the lukewarm water and began to clean the mud and blood from her body.
Outside, Austin leaned against the side of his cabin, flummoxed by all that had happened. How different this evening had turned out to be than the one he’d envisioned. For a little while, he was no longer alone. When a smile played upon his lips, his selfish feelings shamed Austin. How could he take pleasure when this woman had suffered so much loss?
Standing in the darkness, he kept an eye on Sandy who explored a few feet away. “Don’t go far, boy.” Austin was aware of the dangers that lurked in the darkness. The knowledge that Jolie had been exposed to those same dangers and soon would be again caused a shudder to rip through him. How could he let her return to the wilderness? The very idea was intolerable. He’d have to accompany her to a settlement, see that she was safely delivered to…his mind clamored for answer. Perhaps the Spanish mission in Nacogdoches could offer her sanctuary until she could find someone or…
“Mr. McCoy, Austin? You can come back in now.”
Her soft voice broke into his thoughts. “Very well.”
“Sandy.” He called his companion and they reentered the cabin. Aware she had changed into his clothing, he cautiously let his gaze move up her body, starting at her small feet, which were now clean from the mud that had been caked on them. By the time his eyes climbed to her face, Austin was speechless. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Her skin was the color of gardenias, and her eyes were a purplish blue that reminded him of a delphinium flower that had grown in his mother’s garden. The hat was gone and now he could see she had dark hair which fell to the middle of her back in long, loose curls…and her lips, her lips were the color of a pomegranate. Her beauty almost brought him to his knees.

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Blurb:
Man by day, Centaur by night, Rhycious is a remedy maker who needs his own healing.
 
He's the royal physician, famous for his cures. War and posttraumatic stress disorder has broken his spirit, preventing him from finding true happiness. Then a direct order from the queen to investigate an uprising forces him out of his secluded cabin at the edge of the forest.
 
Patience is an optimistic, good-natured Wood Nymph who works as a mediator to ensure harmony within the Nymph sector.
 
Environmental pollution in the aquifer stream that feeds the taproot tree of her heart is slowly killing her. Resigned to the fact she will not live long, she sets out to discover the mysterious disappearance of her sister. Experience has taught her to deny herself the love of a male, but the gruff Centaur is different. He doesn't push his expectations on her, only his healing nature.
 
When Rhycious loses his grip on reality, he believes his inability to control his disorder will drive Patience away. Nevertheless, desire flares, and Patience draws him close. Kidnapping and betrayal turn their mythic joint venture into a deadly bout.
 
Will their love endure when survival hinges on trusting each other?
 
 
Excerpt:
 
“Should we practice our joint effort, polytima, and see how good we can be together?”
How much hotter could they possibly get? Much as she hated flames, her body burned hot enough to internally combust.
“Rhycious!” she cried out, going for a scolding tone. But it came across as a sensual invitation.
His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her the wasted millimeter of space nearer. Patience’s mind spun. A man who wanted her was holding her in his arms. She closed her eyes. His mouth traveled up her throat, licking and sucking, until he settled over her lips once more. Persistent and demanding, his tongue slid along the seam until she complied and opened.
He charged right in like a Centaur warrior would, drawing her tongue into battle with his. Feinting and parrying, they slid sensuously against one another.
“My gods, Patience. You taste so damn good.”
And Rhycious tasted of pure Elysium, sending a tingle of exquisite warmth to a spot deep within her. A breathless tension coiled. “Your coffee tastes better than mine.”
His hand cupping her bottom alternated between kneading the cheek and rubbing sumptuous circles. The clench of desire increased between her thighs. She moaned her approval. His other hand traveled upward from her waist and settled under the heavy fall of hair, massaging the base of her skull.
Rhycious backed her up until her knees hit the couch, and buckled. He followed her down, arranging her body to stretch out beneath him, his hips spreading her thighs wide. Leaning on one elbow, he used his free hand to push the hair off her face. His feral gleam intensified, and his tawny eyes bore into hers.
 
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​ 
No Greater Hell
Lost and Found, Inc. Book 4

His past is better left forgotten...
Former Army helicopter pilot Jake Donovan is lucky to be alive. At least that’s what his team of neurosurgeons said. But he knows differently. Jake’s crimes almost cost Holly Hoffman her life, and even though he can’t remember, the pain in her eyes is something he’ll never forget.
Holly’s done being a victim. As a trauma nurse her skills are needed by a humanitarian group providing medical aid after a killer storm ravages the Gulf Coast of Texas. Saving lives however, won’t be an option when a madman wants her dead.
Can Jake and Holly shed the weight of his dark past, or will their happily-ever-after have a fatal ending?

Excerpt
 
"You'll come back when we get the new compound open?" Kay asked. "It's going to be complete with offices for everybody, a training gym for employees, and a bunkhouse for when our agents need a place to crash.” She shot a look at Nate. “I’m hoping to get my PI license.”
It’s about time you got into the field." Jake knew how badly she wanted to become a field agent. She’d been training hard.
"So you’ll come back for the big day?"
"I don't know." Not wanting to lie to her, Jake met her gaze with his. “No.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue. Nate cut her off by asking her to pass the coleslaw.
Jake shoved a forkful of beans into his mouth and said nothing else.
The group ate in an uncomfortable silence, thankfully broken when Diablo dropped a big paw on Jake's leg to beg for food. He jumped, giving everyone a laugh.
"Hang on," he said to the dog. As he pulled off a chunk of chopped beef to share, the talk switched to Diablo, who Marcus had smuggled into Texas from Colombia. Raised by the notorious drug lord, Manuel Ortega, the dog had been trained to kill on command, and was considered unredeemable by everybody except Marcus. But Diablo had proved them wrong by accepting new training, and he’d grown to worship Marcus. Man and dog had adjusted to each other beautifully.
Jake hoped his own transition to a new life would be as easy.
Just getting through today was trying as hell. The group of people surrounding him ranked up there with the best, a team that worked well as a unit, helping people when all other resources had failed.
Reluctantly, he stood and started his good-byes. He tried to make it quick, giving a friendly hug to Nate and Marcus. Dalton reached out his hand, and Jake accepted it as an honest gesture.
He and Dalton had gotten off to a rough start. Understandable, since Jake had been living as Johnny Darling for a human trafficking ring at the time. FBI agent Dalton Murphy had worked the case, ultimately arresting Jake for kidnapping Holly. That arrest led to the removal of a brain tumor that had saved his life and restored the part of his memory that was Jake Donovan. 
Kay held Jake tightly for a few minutes, then she whispered, “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
She turned and buried her face in her husband's chest. Jake kissed the back of her head and then walked out the door.
These people had saved his life. They’d taken care of him even though he didn’t deserve the sweat off their brow. Nothing would ever lessen his gratitude. He committed everything they'd done for him to memory.
He didn't remember the monster he'd once been, but they did.
With each step, his breathing grew labored, as an imagined metal strap tightened around his chest. With each step away from the comfort and protection of his friends, the band tightened. And with each step, he opened the door to his new future.
A big hand landed on his shoulder. "We all have our private hell. I hope you find the way back from yours. Take care, my friend."
Jake turned around to face Nate. "You too."
"You won't find redemption by living in isolation. You'll find it here." Nate tapped a finger on Jake's temple.
Jake shook his head. "I'm not looking for redemption. I'm just hoping for a little peace of mind."

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