Aussies and Texans and Babies and Falling In Love in the Center of a Storm

So, y’all.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the day that y’all get to meet Holden and Lachlan. I keep trying to think about what all I want to tell you about these men, about the tropes and the plotting and, I got to be honest.
What I love about these boys is that, although they started out as a wild idea, they became real men who proved that they were willing to fight for what they love, what they believe in.

Lachlan’s from Queensland and he’s as much as cowboy as any Texan I’ve ever written. Now, he’s a cowboy with more money than he knows what to do with, money in a way that most of us just dream of. He’s lost his sister, he’s lost his way, and if he’s not careful, he’ll lose the best opportunity he’ll ever have.

Holden, now this man isn’t a bazillionaire, but he ain’t hurting. Not even close.

Well, he ain’t hurting for money. He just lost his twin brother and his beloved sister in law in a plane crash and now there’s this angel baby girl that’s his to raise and his soul is cracked clean down the middle.

Those of y’all that know me know that action adventure snuggles with the western and the only thing they come in second to is the love. This is a BA book — through and through. Stuff happens and as soon as one disaster hits, another comes on. No worries, though. My beloved boys are supported (and screwed with) by family and friends and cowboys that come out of the woodwork.

I hope y’all give Lachlan and Holden a chance and let them worm their ways into your heart like they did mine.

Official blurb:

One Aussie. One Texan. One baby. One hell of a fight.

When his sister and her husband are killed in an accident, Aussie cattle station owner Lachlan McCoughney rushes to Texas to rescue their infant daughter, Chloe. He expects to find his niece living in squalor with the Sheffields, a rodeo family.

Instead, Lachlan finds Holden Sheffield, a salt-of-the-earth cowboy running a huge business operation. They want to explore their mutual attraction despite the many problems thrown their way, and together, they must find a way to give Chloe a new family and find a love that spans thousands of acres and two continents.

Buy Links:

Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7492

All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-trialbyfire-1991421-149.html

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Trial-Fire-BA-Tortuga-ebook/dp/B01C8V5U44/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457968876&sr=1-1&keywords=ba+tortuga+trial+by+fire

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/trial-by-fire-ba-tortuga/1123451801?ean=9781634769815

And as always, y’all can find me at http://www.batortuga.com

Much love, y’all.
BA

Out Today! And A Smile (Roughstock #2)

I love my Roughstock boys. Adore them. But I have to admit, Coke and Dillon? 

They’re my heart boys, the ones that write themselves. The ones that I can look at and immediately they talk to me. (I’m plotting book 3 of theirs). 

What can I say? Bull fighters are my heroes.

I’m so pleased that they’re out in the world again, re-edited and massaged some (thank you, my beloved Sue) and published by Pride Publishing.

All Coke Pharris wants is for his cowboys to be safe—all of them. When rodeo clown, Dillon, sets to prove that there’s more to the bullfighter, people could get hurt.

It’s Coke Pharris’ job to save bull riders from bulls, and he takes his work very seriously. Which is why he’s devastated when one of his favorite riders gets hurt, and he’s determined to help the young man ride again. Dillon Walsh is the arena entertainer for the bull riding tour, and he wants to help. He also wants Coke, has been admiring the man for a long time. He hasn’t made a move on Coke for fear of messing up their friendship, but when he finds out Coke might feel the same way, Dillon has to try to win Coke over.

Coke thinks he’s too old for Dillon, too beat up and scarred, but he can’t resist when Dillon finally makes a play for him. Dillon is like a wet dream for Coke, and the two of them have a great time getting to know each other better, at least until the danger of their job threatens to come between them. Will Dillon and Coke be able to help their friend and weather the problems that blow their way?

Publisher's Note: This book was previously released elsewhere. It has been re-edited for re-release with Pride Publishing.

 

Buy links: Pride Publishing - https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/and-a-smile

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015WFNSZ6?keywords=and%20a%20smile%20ba%20tortuga&qid=1445997056&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1

All Romance Ebooks — https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-andasmile-1913943-340.html

Barnes and Noble — http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/and-a-smile-ba-tortuga/1122705073?ean=9781784308285

 

Much love, y’all!

BA

Six Sentence Sunday -- Hammer and Tongs (m/m, Western)

“So tight, lad.”

“I-- Asa? I’m a little scared.” It took everything in him to admit it.

“New things are frightening, especially when they’re big as this.” Asa’s hands slid over his skin, soothing him.

“Yes.”

 

***

This week's 6 Sentences are from my WIP, Hammer and Tonys. :D

 

Much love, y'all.

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 21: Gen and Dale

Salty fish and noodles.

Oh, Gen called them baccala’ and spaghetti a la something, but they sure didn’t look like Christmas. The noodles he could handle. He just wasn’t so sure about the fish. Christmas in Italy might be more than he could swallow.

“You look very nervous for a man at a feast, tesoro,” Gen said, hand sliding on his back.

“Oh, just a little homesick is all. This is very different.”

Very.

“Mmm. I imagine so. It is all traditional.” Gen had a few thousand relatives, all of them very sweet but loud and emotional and hungry. “I have something just for you. Not to share.

“Well, I should hope so, honey.” He waggled his eyebrows, looking Gen up and down.

Gen laughed, which drew a few looks from the people starting to edge toward the food. Gen took his hand, leading him out of the big formal dining room. He was living in a villa, for god’s sake.

Him. Goofy redneck him.

How fucking cool was this?

Gen kissed him gently, bringing him back to the moment, which had resolved itself into a table for two.

“Gen?” A table just for them?

“Mmm. Yes. We can join the others in a bit, but I wanted you to have something traditional for you, as well. I talked with your old roommate.”

There were two covered platters, and Gen waved him toward them. He headed over and the smell of home hit him. He tugged the lids off and, praise the Lord, there was a pile of tamales and what looked like sliced brisket with onions, pickles and sauce.

“Oh, Gen. Gen, did Santa talk to you?”

“Perhaps.” Those dark eyes shone with love, Gen smiling for him. “Buon Natale, tesoro. Are you happy?”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He grabbed his lover, took a long, hard kiss. “Who on earth wouldn’t be happy if they were me? I got my heart, right here.”

Even if there was salted fish and spaghetti for Christmas dinner. They got tamales to share.

***

Buon Natale, y'all. ;-)

(Dale and Gen are from Private Dances, btw. Comment for a chance to win books.)

Much love,

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 19: Remy and Griffin

“Ooo, douce! Where you been? You been hunting nummy Christmas treats without me?” Remy looked over at his tall, fine, hot as all get out lover. “I done decorated the tree.”

Griff smiled, fangs against lower lip. “Now, would I do that. sweet?”

“Don’ make me bite on you now.” He licked his lips, moving forward. “You get something sweet and nummy?”

“I got something spicy. Want a taste?”

“I do.” The lights on the tree -- all purply and fine -- made Griff’s skin glow. The way Griff offered that long, pale throat was enough to make Remy feel like he was glowing, too.

“Douce. You like the best of all things -- Santa, presents, lights.”

He murmured the words just before his fangs sank in, and the only lights he knew where the ones in his own head.

 

***

Remy and Griff were featured in Long, Black Cadillac.

Y'all know the drill by now, right? Comment to win!

Much love,

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 18: Max and Morgan

“Sugar?” Max looked at the house, wide-eyed. “Did a Pier One explode in Oklahoma City?”

“What? No. Possibly UPS truck, the guy was a little peeved when he was bringing in all the boxes.” Morgan looked tickled as a pig in shit.

“Uh-huh. Did you buy... Santa?”

“Oh, no. He’s still ensconced in the North Pole. I think. I could look it up on Amazon...”

“That looks like the weird little penguin from the commercial.” He pointed out a sparkly bird on a cupcake.

“Uh-huh. I love him. I named him Charlie. It’s a thing.”

Max grinned. Morgan had a lot of things that were a thing. It was one of his most endearing qualities. “Well, I like the shiny stuff on the bull horns.”

“You’ll like the new sheets, too.” Oh, there was evil in them there eyes.

“Will I?”

“Oh, yes. The website called it Pinup Cowpokes.”

That grin made him a lot of promises.

***

Max and Morgan's story is called Oil and Water. :D

Comment for a chance to win one of my backlist titles. :D

Much love, y'all.

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 16, Mik and Van

“Vampires don’t ski.”

Mik sat on the end of the bed, arms crossed, glaring at him.

Van chuckled, tossing another sweater at his own personal vamp. “Werewolves do. You can sit at the lodge and drink hot buttered blood.”

“That’s disgusting.” Uh-huh. Mik was way less pissy than he was letting on. Way less. Hell, Jonny had personally recommended the lodge they were going to in Switzerland...

“It’s funny. Come on, baby. Christmas on the slopes.”

“Switzerland? Seriously? Me, on an overseas flight?”

“We could take a boat, but the snowpack might be gone...”

“I’m going to bite you.”

That got him to stop tossing clothes about, making him chuckle. “Promise?”

Mik grinned, fangs gleaming. “Uh-huh.”

“That would be a nice start to Christmas.”

His own personal bloodsucker started stalking. “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

“Still taking you skiing.”

Mik growled, the sound hot as fuck. “I told you, vampires don’t ski.”

***

Mik and Van are from Cereus: Opening (thanks to Julia for letting me borrow her boy for this one).

*smooches*

Comment for Friday's giveaway!

 

Much love,

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 15: Dave and Amos

“Dave? Baby, why are there lights on the dog house?”

“Because it looked drab.”

“There’s no one but us to see it out here, and...” Amos stopped, sniffing. Frowning, he glanced around. “Is that coffee?”

“I wish.” Dave sighed dramatically. “Iris sent more candles in her care package. Hazelnut cappucino, creme brulee, and Mocha Mint.”

“Go her.” Dave’s secretary, because Iris would never be an ex, sent all sorts of shit, all the time. She thought they were way too isolated up in the Colorado mountains. “Did she send more toffee?”

“She sent pecan brittle, bagels, and smoked salmon.” Dave stared at him. “Seriously? After so long, you’d think I’d cheat?”

“No.” He grinned and pulled Dave close. “It’s habit to ask.”

“The puppies like the Christmas lights.”

“Do they? I had to dig a ball out of Noodle’s mouth last night.”

“That’s why I hung them with string instead of hooks.”

“It’s why you got the hard plastic, too.” He knew it was important to Dave that everything was just so, especially at Christmas. “I like the candles. You want to make cookies now, baby?”

“That would be fun.” Dave came to him, lines beside those dark eyes pure laughter and sunshine. “Yeah, Shep.”

“Well, let’s get to it. I got you some bone shaped cutters to make some for the dogs, too.” Dave wasn’t the only one with Christmas spirit.

His was just less... sparkly.

***

Dave and Amos are from my very first book ever, Stress Relief. ;-)

Much love.

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 14: Jeremy and Hollis

“Sausage balls aren’t good for you.”

“Egg nog is just empty calories.”

“Christmas cookies? MORE Christmas cookies?”

“Sugared pecans? Really?”

“You put that toffee down, Hollis!”

Hollis had had enough. Jeremy was taking this whole trainer-at-Christmas obsession too far. They were retired, now. If he gained five pounds at Christmas, he would work it off on Jeremy’s hot little ass.

He grabbed a joint, a bag of Doritos, and jar of really good olives, popped them in a box and stuck a bow on it.

“Jeremy? Baby? Come see what I got you!”

***

Jeremy and Hollis are from Living in Fast Forward. ;-)

Y'all know the drill.

Much love,

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 13: Danny and Quinn

God, the cold made him hurt.

Danny crept up the stairs of the house, the couple of bags from his stop at the City Market on the way home from cleaning out his little office and telling Professor Wells happy holidays weighing a million pounds in his arms.

Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall.

The door opened before he could reach for the knob, Quinn right there, frowning. “Oh, God, why didn’t you call, babe? I would have come and helped.” Those big, warm hands closed on his arms, helping him over the stoop before the dog could charge him.

“Thank you.” He felt like an idiot, sore and stiff and ancient. “Cold. Good day?”

“Not bad. Couple of people being crappy to each other, but you know how that is.” Quinn dropped a kiss on his cold lips, warming them.

“I do. Semester’s officially over. Office is locked.” That meant long days in their old house, pottering around and drinking coffee.

“Yeah? Means I can melt you with a massage.”

“Oh, God. Please. Yes.” He’d sell his left nut for one.

“I thought so. Hop in the shower while I put the groceries away? Then we can start Christmas break.”

“You got it.” He kissed Quinn’s cheek. “It’s good to be home.”

“Good.” Quinn squeezed his ass. “Because I have plans for Christmas.”

Oh, yay.

He thought he felt better already.

 

***

Danny and Quinn are from Old Town New, which is one of my favorites from way back.

Please do leave comments, I'll be choosing winners tomorrow!

Much love,

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 12: The Brazilians

“What are you doing, Joa?” Balta asked, staring at his lover, who stood on a ladder, naked as the day he was born.

“Hanging mistletoe.”

The view was lovely, so Balta didn’t complain, but it seemed an odd thing. “Why?”

“Because I thought it would be a good game,” Raul said, wandering into the room with a box of mistletoe hangers.

“A game.” He held one arm out and Raul came to him, a naughty look on the hawk-like face.

“Mmmhmm.” Raul smiled for him. “I thought we’d hang them all over and let the one who catches Joa under them tell him what they want him to kiss.”

“Oh. Oh, my wise Raul.” Balta beamed, grin getting wider and wider.

Joa peered down at them. “Wait. You just said there would be many kisses.”

Raul nodded. “So there will be.”

“Feliz Natal!” He applauded, most amused at this game.

Yes.

Merry Christmas to them.

***

;-)

Frosty Fiction, Day 10: Beau and Sammy

Sammy was singing.

Loud.

Silent Night. O Come All Ye Faithful. Go Tell It On the Mountain.

The First Noel, O Holy Night, Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town and ‘Zat You Santa Claus.

One after another.

Beau loved it. He sat there on Coke’s front porch, rocking and drinking a beer as Sammy worked on one of the four-wheelers Coke was having troubles with.

The fearless one himself came out of the house, with a Dr. Pepper for Sammy. “He’s having fun, Cajun.”

“He is, cher.”

“I. Does he know when he sings he don’t mess up the words?”

“Yep. I’ve had him sing for his supper sometimes.”

“No shit? I like it.” Coke grinned at him. “Dillon’s in the kitchen making sammiches. You willing to cook supper? I got pork loin in there.”

“Shit, yeah. S’long as Dillweed doesn’t get all up in arms.”

“You ain’t going to make gumbo; it’s all good.”

Sammy bellered. “O come let us a-DORE hi-IM, Chriiiiiiiist the Lord!”

Coke’s grin was bright as all fuck. “Going to get him his drink.”

“Thanks, cher.” Beau hummed along, heading in to see about that pork loin.

Sammy’s voice followed him, all the way in.

“All I want for Christmas is you...”

 

***

 

:D

Much love, y'all.

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 9: Garret and Kelly

The pictures came in on his emails -- desert and sand, explosions, scarred earth. Soldiers in battle gear. Soldiers in the hospital. Kids with scared eyes and gaunt faces. It had started with long letters about how things were, about how much Kelly missed him, missed Nashville.

Then the long letters shortened to, “miss you, man.”

Sometimes it was just a date, a location.

Sometimes not even that.

Garrett wasn’t sure how Kelly bore it, day after day.

Christmas eve came, and he was sitting in his momma’s kitchen, bored out of his mind while everyone wandered and cooked and shit.

An email popped up on his phone, a picture of a tiny tree, a handful of lights. A note. “Need you like breathing.”

He sighed. This was utter bullshit.

He just emailed back. “Then come home to me.”

***

Garrett and Kelly are from the Roughstock novella, Shutter Speed. They want another book where they get their permanent happy ending. 

:D

You know the drill. Comment away. I'll announce winners Friday.

Much love, y'all.

BA

Frosty Fiction, Day 6: Bax and Jason

“Goddamn it, Mini! Are you trying to kill yourself?” Bax was about to boil over. Jason had been out there with an axe, trying to trim branches off their Christmas tree.

“No. If I was doin’ that, I’d be whacking at my legs and shit.” Jason’s eyes rolled, searching for him. “I didn’t hit an artery, did I?”

“No. No, but you were headin’ that way.” Bax took the axe, glad Mini didn’t make him wrestle for it.

“I was helping.” Oh, there was pouting involved now, full-on. Shit, marthy, that was cute as fuck.

Bax manfully fought the urge to kiss that lower lip where it stuck out. “How did you even find the axe, Mini?”

“It was in the toolshed.”

“So, what, you wandered around calling for it?"

“Nope. I wandered around feeling for it.” Jase just grinned like a monkey. “I moved the rakes.”

“Good to know. I ain’t blind, but I might just kill myself on them.”

“Don’t be pissy, Bax. This is the only way I’ll get to see the tree this year. Once the glass shit is on it, no one will want me touching it.”

Well, shit. He’d not thought of that. He had a bunch of stuff of his momma’s, and Brenda had sent a box for Jason...

“We could hang the glass stuff off the garland on the big wall. Do the tree up in stuff for you.”

Jason shrugged, cheeks pinking. “I don’t want to be no problem.”

“Why would it be a problem? This is our place, not your momma’s or mine.”

“It’d make things a little easier, to not have to worry about knocking into the tree.”

“Well, then, we’ll do that.” He forgot, sometimes, that Mini couldn’t see. Jase got around so much easier every day. It sucked, not to see the twinkly lights and pretty wrapping paper and all.

“Okay.” Jason sighed. “How ‘m I supposed to buy you a present, cowboy?”

“You think I need anything? Hell, tell Missy to take you to buy me new Wranglers.” He hooked an arm around Jason’s waist, hating that defeated fucking look, hating God and the job and the world with all his soul, for mucking up the man he loved. “You know my size. Intimately.”

“I know all about you.” That grin went all goofy and Andy knew he’d gone and done something good and that loosened up that acid in his heart. “Intimately.”

“There you go. All I want for Christmas I got.”

It wasn’t true. He wanted Jason’s sight back. Now, but both of them knew it, so neither of them said it.

Weren’t neither of them young enough to believe in Santa and shit. They just had to believe in each other.

That was enough.

 

***

*sniffles*

Much love, 

BA

What She Wants and Ink Out Today!

Calleigh and Adrian have always had an open marriage. Adrian being on the road all the time has made it easy for them to have separate lives, but neither of them acted on their agreement to see other people until Adrian met fellow Aussie and force of nature, Packer Stevens.

Now Packer and Adrian are always together, and Calleigh is left at home, missing her man. When Calleigh decides she’s not going to let Adrian go without a fight, she comes up with what she thinks is the perfect plan. She hits the spa, and the gym, and sets out to find her inner buckle bunny, intent on getting her bullrider back, and maybe on impressing Packer a little, too. She heads out on the road, ready to fight for her husband.

What Calleigh doesn’t understand is that her plan will be wildly successful, and also the hardest thing she’s ever done in her life. Packer is more than willing to play, but he’s as complicated as Calleigh is emotional. As much as he loves Calleigh and Packer, and the sexy games they play, Adrian has to try  to set things right, but can he find a way to give Calleigh what she wants, and make everyone else happy at the same time?

http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=97&products_id=3758

Tattooed men are sexy, right? That’s the premise of the eight tales in the Ink anthology.

Victoria Sloane opens with The Frayed Line, the story of Dan, who daydreams about the black line on Jonah’s back until he finds out what’s underneath the ink. Sinner's Star by Elizabeth Brooks is the story of ex-con Dope, who discovers his best friend Rat isn't dead after all, but Rat has a new tattoo, a .45, and a grudge against Dope!

Katherine Halle brings us Kelly, who fantasizes about licking Dwayne's tattoos, and just might get his chance in Come Fly With Me. In Dragon by D.K. Jernigan, bartender Travis is haunted by a sexy man with a magnificent dragon tattoo. Now Travis just has to find him. Mychael Black's Detective Kris Winters is also looking for a man with a very special tattoo in Secrets.

In Pounding Skin by Emily Moreton, Mal's tattoo should confirm his commitment to the army. To his shock, it has far more impact on his life. In Simple Instructions by Zoe Trope & Brendan Adkins, Finn accepts an internship at a large law firm, and loves his position at the hands of Robert, a demanding, tattooed lawyer. Finally, in BA Tortuga’s Tramp Stamp, what's a vamp to do when he has a tattoo he can't get rid of? Read the Ink anthology to find out!

http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=76&products_id=3757

Frosty Fiction, Day 5: Sonny and MJ

“Why are we doing the blindfold, Precious?” Sonny asked, staggering down the fucking gangplank.

“We’re docking for Christmas, not playing hide the sausage.”

“No, I’m not in the sausage-hiding mode right now, but thanks for the offer.” MJ patted his ass. “Step down.”

“Down how far?” He’d damned near broken his ankle stepping off the boat, MJ having neglected to tell him they were at a plank, not a dock...

“There’s two steps. You and your weak fucking ankles...”

“I never had ankle problems until I hooked up with an eco-terrorist in North Carolina.”

“You have to watch out for them; they’re assholes. Trigger-happy, too.”

“I know. Blowing shit up.” Sonny nodded, stepping down carefully.

A set of keys was pressed into his hand, the blindfold removed. “You forgot Ding Dong stealing.”

“Well, I bought the Ding Dongs for you.” Sonny stared at the 1970 Plymouth Hemi-Cuda. Red with black racing stripes. Christ. The last time he’d seen one at auction it had been half this good and it had gone for a cool two million.

“Merry Christmas, Sunshine.” MJ’s fingers traced a circle in the small of his back.

“Holy shit, Precious.” MJ had bought him maybe fifteen muscle cars over the years, from Camaros to Chargers, but this was like the Holy Grail. “Uh, what do you want for Christmas this year?”

“Well, I figure the Mustang got me blowjobs...this is vastly better.”

“Oh, so no blowjob, huh?” He walked over to the car, running his hand over the shiny hood.

MJ leaned, all smiles and laughing eyes. “You like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Precious. I like it enough to let you do me in the backseat. Got lube?”

“I do. First, though, I want you to drive.”

Sonny grinned, the expression stretching his cheeks until they hurt. “Think they got enough road on this rock for me to get up to speed?”

“I do.” MJ came right up close. “I think that the local federales also have instructions to leave a certain redneck alone, too.”

“No shit?” Oh, now, that was the best Christmas present ever. Permission to speed. He bent and took that smiling mouth with his, the kiss going nuclear fast.

He was going to have to buy a case of Ding Dong flavored lube for his.

Either that or buy a boat for MJ to blow up.

***

Y'all know the drill by now. :D

I'm picking this week's winners on Friday!

Much love, y'all.

BA

Six Sentence Sunday: Adding to the Collection

Derrick woke up warm, real warm. Like he was wearing a bear rug as a blanket or something. Jesus, had he let Goofus come in and go to bed with him? That dog was going to be--oh.

He blinked at the unbelievably hot bull rider lying on his chest. Oh, Reno...damn.

 

This snippet is from Adding to the Collection, publishing December 12 from Torquere Press! (Yay! Roughstock Christmas!) :D .

 

Want to play along? It’s fun and easy

1. pick a project – a current WIP, contracted work or even something readers can buy if you’re published

2. pick six sentences

3. post ‘em on your blog or website on SundayThis snippet is from Adam's story, Tag Team, that I'm currently plugging away at. The boys are currently in a pervy position, in fact. :D Want to play along? It’s fun and easy 1. pick a project – a current WIP, contracted work or even something readers can buy if you’re published 2. pick six sentences 3. post ‘em on your blog or website on Sunday

COMING DECEMBER 12!

Six Sentence Sunday -- Tag Team

"Come get it, you."

Adam jerked back to stare at him. "Are you serious? I won't push you, honey."

"You ain't gon' be bad to me; you ain't that way." Landon knew things, the bayou was in his veins, and Adam would do him right.

 

This snippet is from Adam's story, Tag Team, that I'm currently plugging away at.  The boys are currently in a pervy position, in fact. :D 

 

Want to play along? It’s fun and easy

1. pick a project – a current WIP, contracted work or even something readers can buy if you’re published

2. pick six sentences

3. post ‘em on your blog or website on Sunday

Werewolves, Julia, Laughing and Having a Ball

Look!

Moon Shine is out today. :D

Julia and I had so much fun co-writing the Cereus stories that we got to brainstorming and, suddenly, we had a ridge runner turned werewolf that was in desperate need of another growly man to nibble on.

I had an absolute ball writing this one, but I'll admit straight up, I'm dying to write the sequel, Absinthe. I won't spoil anything, but once y'all read it, you'll know of what a speak. 

*grins*

Here's the official-type blurb: 

Jenson expects all sorts of trouble being a moonshine runner, but he never thinks it will come from a werewolf bite. He’s dealing with all that while getting his next shipment ready, and he thinks he’s doing all right until David shows up.

Confused, scared, and hot as hell, David is just the kind of trouble Jenson doesn’t need, and everything he wants. Can he help David figure out who bit them both, and keep his life on track at the same time?

And here's an excerpt for you:

***

He smelled trouble about a half second before something landed on his back -- someone heavy and solid and hot. "Where is he?"

Jenson didn't stop to think. He just whirled, his arm pushing up under his attacker and sending the guy flying. Then he headed for his shotgun, which sat at the edge of the clearing. He was always careful not to mix gunpowder and sour mash.

His legs were taken out from under him, a lean, hawk-faced man with skin like leather staring down at him. "I don't want to hurt you. Where is he?"

"I don't want you to hurt me either." He kicked out with his right leg, sweeping the man off his feet.

The man landed with a hard thud, the solid little guy taking it well and rolling right up. It was impressive, and it told Jenson a lot. Like that the guy was not just a human.

"Please. You smell like him. Where can I find him? He did something to me."

"What do you mean I smell like him? Him who?" Jenson ducked to one side when the guy rushed him again.

"The man. The man that bit me!"

Fuck a doodle. It couldn't be. Could it? "Blond? Lean? Pretty?"

The dude nodded, heavy braid swinging. "I just need to find out what the fuck he did to me."

Huffing out a breath, Jenson caught up with the whole situation. Then he went to sniff the guy a bit, moving as close as he could. Damn it all. "Bit you, did he?"

"Yes! Where is he? What did he give me?" Those near-black eyes were snapping, the fading sun reflected in them.

"It's called lycanthropy, man. You're a werewolf."

"Nonsense." The man snorted. "I'm not hungry all the time. The Wendigo are starving, constantly. Everyone knows that."

Well, okay then. He guessed that showed him. "Cool. You're not an ethnically specific breed. Go you."

"What?" He got the look -- the Jesus, you're an insane hillbilly aren't you look. Which, okay, there was a still. Woods. Shotgun.

But he didn't have on overalls and he had all his teeth, goddamn it. He wasn't in Arkansas, either. His last name wasn't Hatfield or McCoy. He knew what the hell he was talking about. "You know, werewolf. Full moon. Grr."

"No way. I can't be a hunting guide if I'm eating people. Where the fuck is he?"

"I. Don't. Know." That should be clear enough, right? Jenson turned on his heel. He was done with this shit.

"You smell like him! Why the fuck are you hiding him?"

Jenson ducked the next rush, whirling around and whacking the idiot in the chest.

"I'm not! He bit me more than a year ago. I can't possibly smell like him."

"His trail led right here. Direct from Unicoi."

Huh. All the way up by the Cherokee forest. Bizarre. There was no way that asshole was here, not without Jenson scenting him on the wind. Right?

"You don't know where he is." The thin lips twisted. "Sorry for bothering you. My mistake." Then the man headed out, right back toward the trees.

Jenson was going to let him go. Was determined not to get involved. He had no wounded animal protective response. Which left him wondering why he turned around and went after the guy. "Wait. Maybe we can help each other."

"Do you know where he is? I have to see him. Stop this."

"I don't know, no. But if his trail led here, he's been hunting my happy ass. I can help you find him." He had no idea if it was true. Jenson just wasn't letting this guy get away so easy.

"I have to. Something's wrong with me." No shit on that. The guy's wolf was crawling under the surface, just waiting for the moon.

"I can help you with that, too." He could. He'd done his moons, and he'd done more when he changed unexpectedly the first time someone tried to take his still down after he'd been bit.

Those dark eyes pierced him. "How? I keep dreaming shit."

"I know. I been there. I've been like this longer."

"I'm going to kill him. He bit me."

Jenson wasn't sure it worked that way. What if, when and if you could kill the wolf who made you, you wiped out his whole progeny or whatever you called it?

No way was Jenson ready to die.

He growled a little, surprised as hell when the man rumbled back. Oh, he didn't think so. Jenson swelled up like a big frog, knowing he could look damned huge when he let his wolf play a little. He advanced, hoping to hell the other guy backed down.

There was moment where he thought the guy would, then the dark eyes flashed gold and their chests slapped together.

Oh. Hello. Whatever he might smell like, the other guy's scent was all male, hot and musky and just his type. Down, boy.

***

 *grins*

Can't wait to see what y'all think of it!

Here's your buy link, and it's available on Amazon and ARe as well. :D

http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=3716

Much love, y'all!

BA