A Matter of View

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It snowed last night, just a little, but will probably be gone within hours. No, this is not a black and white picture although it seems to contain little more than shades of gray

This morning, as I considered the dusting of snow we had last a night—a rarity, by the way, for my Eastern Tennessee home—I searched for my morning mountain fix. The fog, or perhaps snow falling in the distance, prevented me from seeing the Great Smoky Mountains I’ve grown to need every morning along with my coffee.

For me, the snow was nothing, but for those who have never lived anywhere else, it was a reason for near panic. The local news showed pictures of empty bread shelves and milk coolers. My Internet news-feed featured similar scenes in New York City where residents prepared for several feet of the white stuff, not inches.

Growing up south of Buffalo, New York, I know snow. I lived with it every winter until after I graduated from college. Learned to drive in it. Winter often started in October and an April snowstorm was to be expected. It just happened, every year, and you dealt with it.

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My usual morning view this time of year as the sun breaks over the Smokies. It will eventually burn off the fog rising from the river that runs from the mountains you see in the distance.

It’s a matter of perspective, and experience.

The same could be said for writing.

Each of us brings our own, unique experiences and viewpoints to everything we write and read. Just the other day I wrote a scene that came so easily to me. It was about one of my women assassins, from my upcoming Black Swan series, who was finishing a mission in a Middle Eastern country. She couldn’t wait to shed the abaya she’d been forced to wear in the Muslim nation. Grace, my character, had to follow a male operative around her plane for flight pre-check, because even driving a car was a punishable offense, flying a plane would get her killed.

As a feminist, I felt her oppression, her need to be free once again.

Again, is the key word here. Grace knew what it was to have freedom of choice. She’d grown up in America where we women can do, and be, whatever we want. We learn from a young age about making choices, because we have them.

And it’s not just women. Last year I almost got my friend killed. Yes. Murdered. Executed. He’d asked me for a copy of my first book when it was released. I sent it to him. In Afghanistan. He had to hide it the whole time he was there. Because my book, Explosive Combination, has explicit sex scenes and a strong female heroine, it is banned in many countries.

So, like my character, Grace, who knew she would discard the abaya, and fly her jet and team of women home, I know the snow will melt, and I’ll see my mountains again in a day or two.

But there are women in this world who will never have the perspective those of you reading this do. They will never know the choices we take for granted. They can’t make the choice to read:

  • KaLyn Cooper’s hot, sexy book Christmas in Cancun
  • Lynn Lorenz’s Bayou Des Enfants, a male/male 4+ flames
  • Vanessa North’s Double Upinvolving two men who fall in love with each other
  • Aliens having more sex than you in Monette Michaels’ Prime Claiming, a Prime Chronicles short story,  erotic scifi romance
  • About Jianne Carlo’s Prymal Passion, a SEAL paranormal suspense that’s 4 flames HOT
  • Perhaps Rosanna Leo’s The Stand-In where the male and female have sex before marriage ~slaps face OMG!~ (just kidding, more like ooo-yeah!)
  • You could choose Becca Jameson’s Bound to be Tested,Emergence series Book 3, a BDSM menage m/f/f and 4 flames smokin’ hot
  • Seducing Kate by Emilia Mancini, a cougar/cub erotica and comes in with a 4 on the heat level (who caught the pun?)
  • Who can resist a Cowboy Redeemed by Parker Kincade, a contemporary western romance, M/F, 3.5 flames. 🙂 that’s hot and explicit
  • Robin Danner’s paranormal, slightly hot, shifter romance

We can choose to buy these books and read these books. We bring to these stories our emotional and life experiences, whether it’s as a reader or a writer.

I thank God every day, that I was born in the United States of America, free to make my own choices….and to write hot, sexy romance novels.

~~stepping down off my Rant box now~~

By the way, in the time it’s taken me to write this blog, all the snow has melted and the clouds are lifting. I can see the first ridge of foothills. 🙂

The Rules Releases Today!

The Rules High Resolution CoverExcited to announce the release of the first book in my new series Claiming Her. The first book is titled The Rules, and it’s now available from Amazon, ARe, iBooks, and Kobo.

Here is an excerpt:

My boss leaned forward and turned to face me better. “What do you know about me, Amelia?”
My eyes widened. “Uh. What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard rumors. Tell me about them.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t one to stand around listening to gossip in general. Specific gossip about the owner of the company never. Besides, I had been living in my own dream world for the past two weeks, preferring to continue to think Mr. Alexander was the sexiest, kindest, most wonderful man alive rather than listen to the giggles of the other women in the office.
His looks and quiet efficiency, which was all I really knew about him until Friday night, had fueled two weeks’ worth of fantastic dreams. Didn’t matter a bit if everything I’d daydreamed about was untrue. That was the beauty of dreams.
He lifted a brow. “Nothing?”
“I’m not into gossip, sir.” I wiped my mouth on my napkin to ensure I didn’t have any lingering food on my face and set it on the table next to my plate.
He stared at me. “For some reason, I believe you.” And then he tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling.
I waited patiently for him to ponder the paint job.
His head dipped back down just as fast. “Do you know what a Dom is, Amelia?”
“A Dom?”
I gripped my thighs with both hands in my lap, seriously contemplating picking up the bottle of wine and guzzling the rest of it. I held his gaze. Or rather, he held mine.
I swallowed.
He waited.
“You mean like BDSM, sir?” I wished I could have sucked that question back into my mouth before it was all out there.
He stood then, pulled my chair out, and took my arm to help me stand also. It was nearly impossible, seeing as my head swam with questions.
My boss led me to the giant leather couch several yards from the table. The room was an open plan, although I hadn’t taken any time to peruse the furnishings of the living space. Moments later, I sat on the sofa with my back rigid, my legs together, and my feet planted on the ground. I wished I had the rest of that glass of wine.
Mr. Alexander sat next to me. He sat sideways, however, one leg bent at the knee so he faced me. He took my hand and held it in both of his. He stared at it for a long time with his head dipped down to examine every aspect of the back of my hand as though it were fascinating.
His touch was like an electric shock. After what he’d said to me, which made not one bit of sense in my dense mind yet, he still managed to make me crave things I’d never had the urge to pursue before.
I wished I hadn’t chosen that particular white blouse that morning. And the full peach skirt seemed far too short. In fact, the way I’d plopped down on the couch had left half my ass touching the cool leather. And there was no way in hell I was going to fix it now.
Finally he squeezed my hand and lifted his gaze. “You don’t know the first thing about D/s do you, Amelia?”
I shook my head. That was the truth. I’d heard of it. Who hadn’t? I’d read novels occasionally in my spare time. Again, who hadn’t? They were titillating. But real life? Was the man who was my boss and the owner of a Fortune 500 company trying to tell me he was a Dom? And why would I need to know this?
He exhaled slowly, and then he released my hand and stood. He paced the room. I watched him, wishing I could fall through a crack in the Earth and come out on the other side. I did get a better view of this space, though. Clearly he was a fan of white, gray, and black because the living room matched the kitchen in its decor. The leather sofa was white. The floor was tiled in the same gray as the kitchen, with an enormous, delicious plush white rug in the middle between the huge sectional and the wall of built-in cabinets. The wood was painted white, and there was a flat-screen television in the middle section with rows of DVDs and CDs surrounding it. Flanking both of those were shelves of books. A ton of books.
But I needed to concentrate on my boss right then, so I yanked my gaze back to find him staring at me, running his fingers through his hair, both hands.
I was in so much trouble.
Especially because he looked even hotter when he lowered his arms, leaving his hair a mess on top.
“Look, Amelia. I have to be honest here. I’m attracted to you.”
And there it was. I didn’t say a word. I seriously doubted I heard him correctly. He ignored my non-response and continued.
“I mean really attracted to you. I have been since the first time you walked by my office. My cock instantly got hard, as it has every time I’ve seen you since. And baby, my cock doesn’t get hard for just anybody. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve felt this kind of draw to a woman.”
Holy shit. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t breathe. And besides, all kinds of unwanted things happened to my body. My belly plunged, a tight ball forming in the center that knotted a little more with each word he spoke. My sex soaked my panties, and no matter how hard I squeezed my legs together, I couldn’t ease what could only be described as need.
My sexy boss continued to speak, pacing again. “I thought I could control this thing. I thought I could ignore it. I tried paying no attention to you. I then tried paying attention to you. I had hoped when I approached you on Friday night I would find out you had bad manners or a chipped tooth, or an ugly laugh or something that would turn me off.”
I had trouble following his rant. I tried to keep up. I did. But holy fuck.
“I had to jack off twice Friday night, and still you wouldn’t get out of my bed,” he accused, as though I’d done something wrong. His bed? I had never been near this man’s bed. Not once. This was the first time I’d been in his house for heaven’s sake.
“So I had this plan.” He stopped pacing, nailing me with his gaze. “I was sure if I sent you all over Atlanta this morning to collect that pile of stuff, you’d either freak the fuck out and tell me to go to hell, or not even flinch and leave without a blink.”
“I considered it, sir,” I managed to mutter.
“Which one?”
I stared at him.
“Which one, Amelia? Telling me to go to hell or shrugging it off?”
“Hell, sir,” I whispered.
This freaking pleased him. I couldn’t believe it.
He smiled, and then his face straightened, and he turned to face the wall of bookshelves, giving me another view of his fine ass in the process.
I closed my eyes, trying to straighten out my head while at the same time ignoring his butt. When I opened them, the man was facing me again. And he was closer. “Amelia.”
“Yes, sir?”
He rolled his eyes. “Cade.”
I nodded. No way was I going to start calling him Cade.
“Unless you plan to stick a capital letter on the way you say Sir, call me Cade.”
I had no idea what he meant by that.
“You’re the greenest twenty-four-year-old woman alive. What rock did you climb out from under?”
I was sure that was an insult, so I said nothing.
“I’m sorry.” He cringed. “That was uncalled for.”
Huh. The man could apologize, and he felt remorse. Interesting.

New Release Coming!

Need-Becca_Jameson-500x800Exciting times always in my office. 🙂 I’m a little crazy and frazzled most of the time. It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me!

So, my next release is Need. It’s the third book in The Fight Club series. For anyone wondering, there are six altogether, and I’m currently finishing the fifth. And I need a nap…and less caffeine…and more hours in the day!

Here’s a blurb for Need:

Emily Townsend needs closure. And she’s will do anything to get it, including visit a local BDSM club. What she doesn’t expect is for the sexy man she’s been ogling for three weeks to waltz over to her table and dominate her in a way she’s never experienced.

Rider Henderson doesn’t do newbies. Or girlfriends. But the cute pixy hanging around his club has drawn him to her side like a magnet. Perhaps if he took her on as a trainee, he could purge her from his system.

The steam between Emily and Rider is undeniable. Not only is she a natural submissive, but she also enjoys watching him fight. That doesn’t change the fact Rider doesn’t want a permanent woman hanging around, nor does Emily have any interest in sharing Rider with her family or coworkers. It’s a summer fling. Nothing more.


And here’s an excerpt: (It’s naughty! Not for those who don’t care for naughty!)

“Take off your panties.”
Emily froze. He’d known she would. He’d intentionally pushed her to the edge of her comfort zone and then let her topple over the precipice. “Here?”
“Now?” She lifted her gaze to his.
“You’ve only learned three rules and you’re already breaking them all.” Surely this wouldn’t take long.
Her mouth opened again.
Rider waited. He fought to keep from smiling. He fought to keep from clasping his dick in his hand. Hell, he fought to keep from reaching across the table and licking that gloss right off her lips to confirm what the flavor was.
What the hell are you thinking? The woman can’t do this. She isn’t submissive. But Rider knew subconsciously he was lying to himself. She was eager to learn and trembling splendidly with every instruction.
Emily lowered her entire head in a sharp movement before she remembered it was her gaze he was concerned about and corrected herself. “Sorry, Sir.” She tugged her hands from under her thighs as though they’d been glued to the vinyl bench. She set her fingers on her lap and glanced around the bar area.
“Don’t concern yourself with anyone else. The only person who matters right now is me. Besides, Extreme is filled with Doms and subs. Few people in this club have the time or inclination to pay attention to one wayward newbie in a dark corner removing her panties under the table.”
Emily brought her face back to center. She sat still for several moments. Finally, she lifted her ass the scant inches necessary, tucked her hands under her skirt, and squirmed as she drug her panties over her ass, across her thighs, and down her legs.
Fuck me. Rider lifted a hand and held it open, palm up. “I’ll take those.” He fought to control his voice. Damn.
Emily gasped. Her fingers shook as she brought the fistful of her panties above the table and set the wad on his palm.
Rider wanted to lift the panties to his face and inhale her scent instead, but he would content himself with knowing he could always do that later. Instead, he stuffed the treasure in the pocket of his jeans, leaning to one side to make the opening more accessible. He gritted his teeth when his hand brushed against his cock through the pocket.
When he’d righted himself, he spoke again. “Now, lift yourself off the bench and pull your skirt out from under your ass. Sit with your bare skin on the vinyl.”
Emily hesitated again, but she didn’t look around this time. She did as he told her.
“Spread your knees. I can’t see well from here, so I’m going to have to assume you’re following my instructions.”
She flinched, but her wiggling told him she’d complied, at least to a certain extent.
“Do I make you horny?” He didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“Yes, Sir.” She gripped the edge of the table again.
“I need verification.”
She sucked in a breath and waited.
“Dip two of your fingers into your pussy as far as you can. Show me how wet you are.”
“I— I can’t do that…Sir. Not here.” She glanced around again.
“Do you want to learn the ropes or not?” He leaned closer into her space. He knew he made her more uncomfortable than she’d ever been in her life. He also knew it was necessary. Her actions following his command would determine the rest of their relationship with each other. If Emily could follow this instruction and the one he intended to follow it with, he would know deep inside, she was submissive. There would be hope. For her or for me?
It was insane, really. He said himself he didn’t take newbies. Ever. Why then was he so attracted to this one that he felt the need to pressure her, test her, find out what she had in her?
Because you want her more than you want your next breath. It didn’t matter that it made no sense or that he’d never been with a woman so uneducated in his ways. What mattered was he needed to have her on a level so basic he was about to come in his jeans.
He’d never fuck her tonight. Hell, he didn’t intend to so much as touch her. He just wanted to push her one more step and leave her with something to consider. If she came back next week, he’d take her under his wing and tutor her. If not, no harm no foul.
Tell that to my cock.
“Emily.” He waited until he had her full attention. “You’re here. You’ve come here three times now. I’m not asking you to display your pussy to the entire room at large on your first foray into BDSM. I’m simply asking you to demonstrate your arousal level to me. Not one person is going to notice except me.
“Now, push two fingers into your pussy and draw them out for me to see.”
Emily’s hand shook as she released the table and reached under it.
Rider suddenly hated that table more than anything. He wanted to split it in half with his hand in a karate chop so he could watch her lift her skirt and slip her shaky fingers underneath it. He wanted to see her core, smell her essence, taste her arousal. But not tonight.
Emily lifted her butt off the bench. She gripped her thigh with her free hand, probably holding her skirt in place so it didn’t rise higher than she wanted.
There was no doubt what moment in time her fingers touched her pussy. She sucked her lips between her teeth. And the next moment, she moaned as her hand disappeared farther between her legs.
Rider almost moaned with her. So wanton.
She was that raw. Pure. Sexy as hell. And she had no idea.
Her hand trembled as she brought it above the table, lowering her ass back to the bench.
“Ah, so wet for me, baby.” Copious amounts of her arousal coated her fingers.
And now for the final test. “Suck them clean, Emily. Taste yourself. Learn your flavor.”
Emily remained still, her hand in the air in front of him, her middle fingers curling slightly as she pondered her choices.
When she made her decision, bringing those fingers to her lips and tentatively letting them slip into her open mouth, Rider almost came. He watched without blinking. His eyes burned with the image. He’d never forget that moment as long as he lived.
Emily challenged him too. She lifted her gaze to his and teased him mercilessly as she sucked first one finger clean and then the other. He’d created a monster. The little imp knew exactly what she was doing.
His chest pounded. His skin felt overly hot. He would need to masturbate before he could leave the club this evening.
But he didn’t care. Emily Townsend was his to control.
What the fuck are you going to do next, big guy?

Free Read!

So, here’s the thing. I’ve been so lucky to have found a partner in crime! Her name is Paige Michaels. She is the bomb. And she was gracious enough to co-write a series with me! The series will release of the next year, starting in March. The title is The Art of Kink. The four books in the series are Pose, Paint, Nude, and Sculpt. The stories all take place in and around an art studio, thus the names! These stories are edgy BDSM, so if that isn’t your thing, you won’t care for our efforts. lol

Wrap-Paige_Michaels-Becca_Jameson-500x800And the best news?! We wrote a prequel to the first book called Wrap. It’s a short little teaser that will hopefully wet the appetite for Pose. AND you can download it now from several venues, or read it on either my site or Paige’s. I shall include the links here:







Wolves and other assorted characters…

I’m working on too many projects at once?! How is a girl supposed to keep track of all this? I’ll try to give a rundown of what’s coming up in the next few months:

October 2–Betrayed releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the 6th book in the Wolf Gathering series. It’s also the last book in that series. BUT, never few, there is a spin-off series called WERE Force that will release in the latter part of next year. 🙂

December 4–Need releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the 3rd book in The Fight Club series. Loving this series. There will be six books. I’m currently writing the fourth. Each book features a different hero from the group of six guys who all belong to the same BDSM club and enjoy mixed martial arts.

January 20–Bound to be Tested releases with Samhain Publishing. This is the 3rd book in the Emergence series. It’s BDSM and this book has a bit of F/F in it. 😉

February 7–Hers releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the fourth book in The Fight Club series. I’d better get that one written… Oh, look, a squirrel!

March 7–Drum roll please!!! Exciting new series releases that I wrote with another author who is so amazing I want to kiss her! Should I? I guess I could. Anyway, her name is Lindsay Paige. She is fresh and new and fantastic and you won’t believe how talented she is. We wrote this series together. It’s called The Art of Kink, and the first book is called Pose. BDSM whose characters are all connected to an art studio in some way. You will love love this project! And I can’t wait to release some snippets! Soon. I promise.

So many more books are scheduled for the rest of next year! But that gives you an idea of what’s to come. 2015 is going to rock!



What’s Next? More Wolves!

Betrayed-Becca_Jameson-500x800My next release is Betrayed, the 6th book in the Wolf Gatherings series. It releases October 2 with Hartwood Publishing! It should be available for preorder on Amazon any second now! Waiting… Waiting…


Heather Peters is recovering from her recent kidnapping at the sprawling Spencer ranch in northwest Texas. After witnessing more in the last few weeks than anyone should see in a lifetime, she needs the relaxation the Spencers and their ranch provide while applying for nursing jobs all over the country.

Marcus Cunningham is hovering on the edge of the Spencer ranch, watching closely to ensure the place is indeed a refuge where he might find peace from his family, the leaders of the Romulus, a subversive shifter organization run by his grandfather.

When Heather is bitten by a rattlesnake and goes down hard right before Marcus’s eyes, he has a moral obligation to approach and ensure the woman is okay. Not only is she in danger, but she’s his mate.

As events unfold, Marcus must face his mate and the Spencers with the information that will implicate his grandfather and cause a necessary battle between shifters battling to preserve their way of life, the North American Reserves, and rogue criminals, the Romulus. The future of all shifters depends on Marcus’s skill and knowledge.


Marcus watched her every expression. Heather Peters was gorgeous. He couldn’t stop panting at her feet. Her red hair was disheveled around her face, the curls falling in every direction even though she tried repeatedly to tuck them behind her ears. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, enticing him when she scrunched up her face. Her eyes bored into him, the green depths seeming to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets.
When she flattened and stared at the ceiling, he settled more comfortably at her feet. He hadn’t eaten since early yesterday, but he could go a long time in wolf form without food.
What he couldn’t do was stay away from Heather. He’d tried. All night he’d wandered the woods, pacing. But by morning he knew it was a lost battle. He needed to be near her. Even if he didn’t shift, he needed to know she was okay. Healing. Recuperating. The rest he would figure out as he went along. First, he could at least get a better feeling for these people inside their home rather than pacing the edge of the forest.
Not to mention the fact she was bound to tell them about him. He decided he was better off coming forward rather than being found roaming the property.
He had enough hurdles to surmount without adding creepy stalker to the mix.
What he hadn’t figured into the equation was the way her presence would slam him in the chest and take his breath away. In human form in a trapped room, it was worse. She was his. Did she know that? She seemed interested in getting to know him, but she hadn’t specifically said anything about them being mates.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she pulled her damn sheet higher.
For what? For rescuing her? He hadn’t really done anything. She’d done all the work. All he’d done was lie next to her and then nudge her into action.
Someone knocked at the door, and Marcus lifted his head and swung toward the opening, immediately going on the defense.
“You doing all right in here?” It was yet another brother. He’d ascertained there were at least three brothers. Though he thought he remembered there being a fourth from his youth. They all looked like their father, so it was easy to figure out.
The latest man glanced at Marcus and furrowed his brow. He came farther into the room. “Is he going to shift?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. He’s not saying.” Heather grinned, and Marcus nearly swallowed his tongue when a gorgeous smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes until they sparkled.
The newcomer smirked. “Guess not. Weird.” He turned toward Marcus. “I’m Drake. I guess you met my dad and my brother, Scott.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels as he turned back to face Heather. “He’s a chatty one, huh.”
“Yeah. I can’t rest with all his yammering.” She smiled again.
Marcus would gladly stay in wolf form forever if it meant seeing the twinkle in her eye.
Drake reached a hand forward, and Marcus growled before he could stop himself, lifting up on all fours.
Drake lifted both arms up. “Easy, fellow. I was just going to pour her some water. Her lips are dry. She hasn’t had enough to drink since she was bitten.” He slowly lowered his hands until he picked up the pitcher and poured a glass, only taking his gaze off Marcus for short instances.
Heather sat up, pulling her legs away from Marcus’s snout. She narrowed her gaze at him. She wasn’t laughing now. “Stop it.”
He conceded marginally, knowing his actions were unreasonable. Everything about this decision to come forward was unreasonable. He’d done so for purely selfish reasons in the end. He needed to know if it was true. That this woman, Heather Peters, was indeed his mate. It didn’t matter he wasn’t about to shift for her. He simply wanted to be certain she was safe, healing…and his.
Now that you know, what are you going to do with that information, big guy?
“Kinda protective, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” She looked directly at Marcus while she spoke.
Drake handed Heather a glass of water. He turned toward Marcus. “Hey, if you want to get the next glass, be my guest.” And he turned and strolled from the room.
Marcus panted. He did want to get the next glass. He wouldn’t, but he wanted to. There were a lot of things he wanted, but life didn’t always throw the best curve balls. Claiming a mate at this juncture was beyond selfish. Marcus had nothing to offer this woman except a pile of horrific information concerning his own flesh and blood. She would freak out if she knew half of the shit he’d been a party to.
“So, how long are we going to hang out like this?” She set her glass down and crossed her arms. The blankets were tucked tightly against her chest. He wished she’d let them fall.
He sat back down with a sigh, jerking his attention back to his mate. He couldn’t have answered her if he wanted to. Right now he wanted to stare at her and make sure she was safe. He hadn’t thought past that yet.
She’s safe. You can see that. Why are you still here?
Heather scooted back down and held his gaze for a long time. Finally her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept again.
Marcus inched forward slowly. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. There was plenty of space alongside her, and she couldn’t protest while asleep… He also couldn’t bring himself to leave her yet…
Someone was petting him… It felt so good, like his mother used to do when he was a small child. Slowly he opened his eyes, suddenly aware he’d fallen asleep. It had been a dream.
Only it wasn’t a dream. It was Heather. He stared into her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted in a sweet position, indicating she was deep asleep. But her hand was on top of him, hugging him to her.
And he’d never been as happy as that moment. In sleep she craved his proximity. She’d pulled him closer, or perhaps she’d scooted toward him.
The room was bright. Midday. Marcus needed water. He eyed the pitcher on the bedside table with envy.
Heather stirred. A soft moan escaped her lips, and then she dug her hand deeper into his fur. A moment passed before she became alert enough to realize her position.
She bolted upright, releasing him. Her chest heaved. She brushed her hair from her face. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Marcus watched her breasts as they rose and fell, her nipples erect under the tight tank top. She was sexy as hell, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it in this state. Or in any state, asshole.
“Still in wolf form, I see.” She inched away from him. “Aren’t you hungry? Thirsty?”
He was. But he didn’t move, not wanting her scent to disappear.
Heather shoved at him. “Get off the bed, you mutt. I need to use the bathroom.”
Marcus hesitated. If he could have laughed at her term for him, he would have. He glanced at her ankle. It looked much better. She could probably walk. He bounded from the bed, landing on all fours. He sat on his haunches as she swung her legs around and threw her blankets back.
Heather winced as she set her feet on the floor. “My bladder’s going to burst,” she muttered. She tentatively put pressure on her foot and then stood. “Ow. Son of a bitch, that hurts.”
Marcus leaped forward, though he hadn’t a clue what he could do to help.
As soon as she steadied herself enough to avoid falling, Marcus lifted his gaze from her feet. And God almighty. He sucked in a breath. Even in wolf form, he reacted to her.
Heather wore nothing but silk panties and a tank top. It was askew, almost revealing one breast. She hobbled forward, holding on to the bedside table as she moved toward the attached bathroom.
Marcus couldn’t move. He was in her way, but he was frozen in his spot, mesmerized by her sexy body. Her pale legs and arms matched her face, all wide expanse of glorious smooth skin dotted with freckles.
When she couldn’t get past him, she turned toward him. “Move. Geez.” And then she glanced down at herself. She righted her shirt and rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Have you never seen a woman in her underwear? Lord, wolfboy.” She set her hands on her hips, no longer doing her best to cover herself. “Dude. I don’t know if you realize this, but it seems you’re my mate. I can’t for the love of God figure out why you’re sitting at my feet all doggy like, but move so I can use the bathroom.”
Marcus hopped up and did as she said, inwardly chuckling at her endearments. Wolfboy? Mutt? Doggy? If he’d been in human form, he would have bust a gut laughing. She was right. This was absurd. But he didn’t have the courage to change. And until this moment, he hadn’t had any intention of changing ever. Could he do it? Leave this woman and walk away?
Heather passed him and hobbled to the bathroom. She shut the door, leaving him alone in the room. He glanced around her space. It was sparsely furnished, and there was nothing to indicate it was lived in full time by any particular person. The comforter at the foot of the bed was floral. Was Heather a floral kind of girl? He didn’t think so.
This wasn’t her room. It was a guest room. Did she not live in the main house? She didn’t appear to be related to the people who’d come in and out of the room. A bit too formal. Maybe she’d been visiting.
Or maybe she’s one of the women kidnapped by the North American Reserves last month. Marcus held his breath as he considered the option. It was possible, though he hadn’t seen evidence of any of the others. He hadn’t seen more than three women on the property at any time.
He had to agree with his mother. No way were the Spencers involved in something sinister. He’d been here for hours and no one had yet been anything other than polite and accepting, even though he’d given them no reason whatsoever to trust him.
Heather hobbled back into the room. She opened a drawer and pulled out a few things. She ignored him completely, and then she headed back for the restroom. Seconds later, he heard water running. The shower.
If she hadn’t closed the door entirely, he didn’t believe he would have been able to keep from nosing it open and watching her strip out of her meager clothing and duck under the spray. He licked his chops thinking about it.
In wolf form his ardor was at bay, but barely. If he shifted now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’d never wanted a woman as badly as Heather Peters in his life. And her feisty mannerisms and cocky mouth made him itch to claim her immediately. He couldn’t believe how strong the call to mate could be. Overpowering to the point of insanity.
He panted, staring at the bathroom door. He needed to shift, on a visceral level. He needed to claim this woman almost as bad as he needed his next breath. No, worse. Instead he growled low in his throat as he listened to the water running down the drain, knowing his mate was naked behind the door. Damn Fate and Her wicked, witty self.

Perv releases this Thursday!

Perv-Becca_Jameson-500x800I’m so excited about this week’s release. Perv, and all the other books in this series, The Fight Club, are among my favorites to date! With a mixture of MMA and D/s, how can you go wrong? hehe

Perv, the second book in the series, will release this Thursday, September 4, with Hartwood Publishing.

If you’d like to read an excerpt, just click on the book cover and it will direct you to my site. 🙂 Enjoy!

Becca Jameson

Here’s a blurb:

Jenna Mathews has nothing on her mind except making sure her best friend’s wedding is perfect in every way. As the maid of honor and the florist, she needs to keep on task. However, she is in no way prepared for the sexy best man who slides into place at the last second for the wedding rehearsal. He flusters her from the moment he arrives and manages to tip her world on its axis before the night is over. But Jenna isn’t ready for his world, and besides, she has family issues to deal with and has no interest in divulging the truth about who she really is.

Mason Simmons can’t believe he is falling for a vanilla woman at his best friend’s wedding of all places. Even though both the bride and the groom warn him to stay away from the maid of honor, he isn’t able to keep his hands to himself. He’s a smart man, though. No matter how hard he gets every time he’s with Jenna, he still knows she isn’t the type to enjoy either of his favorite pastimes—MMA fighting and BDSM. What he really needs to do is get her out of his system so he can move on.

But things don’t work out as planned for either Jenna or Mason. Every time they are together, the heat rises. Neither of them is capable of turning the flames down. Jenna proves to be far less vanilla at heart, shocking herself as well as Mason. The fighting is almost more than she can handle, but when Mason takes her to his club, Extreme, she finds herself titillated beyond what either of them expected.

Just when things are looking up, Jenna’s family enters the picture to rock the boat. Can their relationship survive the extreme turbulence? Secrets are one thing, but Jenna has a pile she wished she never had to divulge.

clue 8ish