A Girl’s Best Friend
Marnie's Secret
The Accidental Lover
Gamble of a Lifetime
Ghost of a Chance
Captured
Betrayed

Available now! Ellora's Cave

Natalie closed the door and retraced her steps to her bedroom. She had a man in her life only not the kind she could tell her friend about. She grabbed a pair of panties and running shorts from a pile of clean laundry and slipped them on. Digging deeper, she found a sports bra. If she finished her project she’d reward herself with a run later. Not bothering with shoes, she wandered down to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Somehow hers didn’t taste as good as Gran’s. She found some sensible bran cereal in the cupboard and poured herself a bowl. Peering into the refrigerator, she noted the milk was a week past the expiration date. One whiff and it was down the drain. She stood by the sink, eating her cereal dry while she waited for the coffee.

It was all a delay tactic. She’d been putting off cleaning Gran’s room for a month. What was a few more minutes? Somehow as long as Gran’s stuff was where she left it, Gran wasn’t really gone. Right?

With a grimace she put her bowl down and poured her coffee. Wrong. Gran was still gone and the sooner Natalie cleaned the room the sooner she could get on with her life. With a determination in her step she didn’t quite feel, she grabbed her coffee mug and marched upstairs to Gran’s room. The closed door stopped her. Was she ready to face the memories on the other side? Not really but it was now or never.

She turned the knob and pushed. The lingering scent of Gran’s perfume assailed her senses.

Oh Gran, I miss you so much. She sucked in her lower lip and swiped the tears before they could overflow. I can do this. Help me, Gran.

Sunlight streamed through wide arched windows decorated with tailored navy drapes. An equally sedate spread covered the antique white bed. Matching furniture dotted the large bedroom. Everything about the room suggested understated elegance—just like Gran.

Natalie’s gaze went immediately to the long bureau and a double picture frame. Gran’s wedding picture was on one side. She was radiant, gazing with such love and devotion into Granddad’s eyes. And why not? Granddad had been one hot hunk in his day.

In the other picture Gran wore a classic portrait drape. That photograph had always puzzled Natalie. Why would Gran keep a picture of herself as a young woman on her bureau? Natalie thought it was there for Granddad but the portrait remained after he’d passed away five years ago. Gran wore the same enamored expression in both photos but Granddad wasn’t in that one. In fact, Gran said it had been taken the day before they’d met. It was as if Gran could see him waiting for her in the future. The love and joy in her eyes was breathtaking.

“Oh my God.” Even though Natalie had seen these pictures hundreds of times she’d never actually looked at them. Her hands shook. She placed her coffee mug on the bureau and picked up the frame. That necklace. Gran wore it in both photos. A large diamond pendant in an ornate, almost garish, setting hung from her neck on a thick gold chain. It seemed so at odds with her conservative, sophisticated taste.

The room closed in around Natalie until only the picture in her sweaty palms existed. It wasn’t the gaudy piece of jewelry that had her heartbeat doing double time. No, it was where she’d seen that diamond before—around her own neck each night while her dream lover brought her to unspeakable heights of ecstasy.

Available now! Liquid Silver Books

Here is an excerpt from my contemporary romance, Marnie’s Secret. Holy shit! It was a good thing he’d had all that training in Iraq, otherwise, Hank Butler would have lost his lunch. What the hell was she doing here? And dressed like that? He recovered himself, but not fast enough. She had to have read his reaction. “Hank, this is my good friend…Jane Doe.” Lara giggled. “Today is her birthday, and I want you to be her birthday present.” Oh God, what did I do to deserve this?

“Be a dear and say ‘yes’ because I know you two will be great together. Jane, this is Hank. We met a couple months ago when he moved here from North Carolina. He’s way too nice and way too much fun­in bed and out­and exactly the kind of guy you need tonight. Exciting and adventurous.”

Lara glanced over her shoulder at the bar, then rushed on. “I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted before you go upstairs. It looks like Sam’s going to burst if I don’t get back over there. Trust me, girl. You will have one incredible night once you get these jeans off him. He’s simply amazing! Have fun!” Lara air-kissed her friend and with a quick finger wave at him, she retreated back to a guy at the bar big enough to be the Bears offensive line all by himself.

Hank stared at the woman in front of him. She looked right and left, but avoided all eye contact. No surprise there. The knot that clenched his stomach when he turned tightened. He let out a deep breath as his brain finally picked up the message that his lungs were on fire.

“Um, hello, Marnie.”

She bit her lip and heaved a long sigh. It looked like they both needed the cardio paddles after that shock.

“Er, hello, Hank.”

Maybe the sky would open up and a Patriot missile would put him out of his misery.

The silence stretched. Shit. After that speech of Lara’s, he couldn’t just say “no thanks” and walk away.

It didn’t help that from the first time he had seen her, he’d wanted her. All that sleek auburn hair, streaked with gold­no doubt, done at the most expensive salon on the eastern seaboard. Her lips so full they made him dizzy wondering what they tasted like. And her eyes, those molten chocolate eyes that never missed a thing.

He tried to focus on her face but couldn’t keep his gaze from drifting below her neck. My God, that was some dress. It was a wonder her tits didn’t fall out. There was nothing to it.

His cock swelled as he wondered what her breasts would taste like. How soft they’d be cradling his erection. What those ripe lips would feel like sucking him dry. He tried to rein in his imagination but a picture of her took shape in his mind. She’d dropped the skimpy fabric covering her breasts and cupped them, offering them to him, begging him to suck them.

This was crazy. Lara wanted him to be her birthday present? It was a nice idea, but was he really expected to go upstairs and fuck his new boss?

Available now! Liquid Silver Books

The Accidental Lover, is a contemporary novel with historical dream sequences about Logan Jeffries and Alexandra O'Malley who excel at consistently choosing the wrong people to fall in love with. I had fun introducing them after they decide that 'happily ever after' is not in their stars. Below is an excerpt from one of Alexandra's dreams with her imaginary Duke - who just happens to look exactly like Logan! Available now in print! The wind whipped at her sheer gown as she raced across the beach through the surf. Sand and water flew beneath her feet. Her wild hair streamed madly about, obscuring her view. Salt air filled her lungs but there was not enough and her chest heaved from the lack of oxygen. She was trapped for sure this time--the sea to her left, a sheer cliff to her right. Her only chance of escape was far down the long expanse of shoreline, so far away she could not see it through the thick mist that swirled about. The jetty. She had to reach the jetty. Maybe she could climb the ragged path up the cliff. It was her only hope.

Over the roar of the waves and the roar of her pulse, she caught the faint sound of thundering hooves. Lord, help her! The duke had discovered her absence. How could he know she would come this way? She herself hadn't decided until she was on the Southern Pass that led from the castle.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she stretched her legs, attempting--in vain, she knew--to out distance his powerful war-horse. A presence drew near but she dared not look back for fear of stumbling. He was close, very close. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the huge sinewy legs of the galloping animal.

Suddenly, a muscular arm encircled her waist and placed her on the snorting beast. It was as if she weighed no more than a sack of feed. She clenched her eyes shut, unwilling to admit defeat, yet knowing she had not the strength to fight her assailant.

"You have given me a merry chase this time, Milady," growled the duke as he reigned in his mount. His arms cradled her closely to his broad chest. Having left the castle in haste, he was naked to the waist, and his crisp chest hairs rubbed against her flaming cheeks.

"But this is the last time you will try my patience!" He grabbed her chin in his large hand and turned her face to his. She opened her eyes, pulling back in defiance. "I am done with your escapades, my little bird. You will take your place at my side, and I will have no more of this fleeing from me."

Their eyes locked in a battle of wills, his commanding and controlling, hers rebellious and bold. As she saw the passion smoldering just below the surface of his composure, her insides experienced a burning heat that soon raged out of control. Capitulating to his will now seemed a welcome avenue. She reached her hand to cup his jaw. "As you wish, my lord," she whispered.

"My love," the duke groaned as his mouth took possession of hers. It was a kiss of passion, of utter need. The promised rain began to fall like soft petals, yet his well-trained mount flinched not a muscle. The duke arched her back across his arms as he trailed scalding kisses down her neck, across her chest to hover over her waiting breast. She could feel his hot breath and longed for him to take her in his mouth.

"Tell me what you want, my love. Tell me how I may please you."

"Please, my lord, please, I want you. I want you."

He leaned back, his ardor briefly held in check, and smiled gently down at her. "I know you do, my sweet. I know you do." Without warning, he gripped the neckline of her gown and ripped it to the hem, exposing her fully to his lustful gaze.

His mouth came down over her firm globe, lapping the raindrops as they drizzled across her flesh. He suckled her greedily, without mercy, until she begged for release. Adjusting his garments, he straddled her across his heaving loins. She screamed her pleasure as he plunged his heavy shaft into her, his vise-like grip anchoring her to him. She locked him with her arms and legs as he nudged his steed into a rhythmic cantor.

She cried out again and again. She had never known such ecstasy, such joy. Somewhere in her clouded mind, she knew the duke was exerting monumental control over his own passions so that he could draw out her pleasure, and she loved him all the more for it.

When she was finally spent, unable to move from exhaustion, the duke urged his mount into a gallop. Her last conscious memory was the duke's shout of completion.

Available now! Ellora’s Cave

Gamble of A Lifetime Where most men masquerading as Southern colonels and gamblers had dressed in white suits, this man’s was mortal sin black, richly adorned with an emerald green brocade vest. A thick gold chain indicated a watch in the vest pocket. The only other adornment was a blood red rose in the lapel buttonhole. His gaze settled momentarily on her cleavage, and she hoped her nipple had not crested the top of the bodice as it had done several times on the ride to the dock. His eyes widened, and she knew her dress had betrayed her yet again. Somehow the urge to tug it up didn’t materialize. She rather liked that smoldering look in those devilishly charming eyes. “Perhaps a glass of champagne would be nice…to start.” She patted her hair, which she’d let hang free down her back, and reveled in the direction his gaze had taken.

His eyes shot to hers. “Yes…Indeed…Champagne.” He glanced around, and signaled to a waiter, then helped himself to a flute from the offered tray. When he gave it to her, Lauren brushed the pads of her fingers against the back of his hand. He arched an eyebrow, his fingers lingering just a moment too long before releasing his hold. “Are you here to try your luck at the gaming tables or are you one who needs the instant gratification of the, what are they called? Oh yes, the one armed bandits?”

“Instant gratification has its advantages.” Lauren sipped her champagne. “But then, the long, slow rhythm of a game has its appeal, too.”

This time, the gambler raised both his eyebrows. “I see. Then perhaps we should try both?”

Available now! Ellora’s Cave

Here is an excerpt for my upcoming release Ghost of A Chance. “Whoever said winter in New England was romantic was full of crap!” muttered Jenna Hawthorne, gathering her skimpy shawl closer as the snow swirled in a frenzied tango around her. “Damn that POS car! Damn Lance Whitman! And damn this damn weather!” The light from the Rutledge place was more of a dim glow than a welcoming blaze. Had the storm taken out their electric? Or rather, whose electric? After all these years, had someone finally moved into the remote house?

She maneuvered up the last of the stairs and looked for the doorbell. “Oh, damn!” She pounded her fist on the solid wooden door. It opened immediately, as if someone expected her or had witnessed her ungainly stagger up the stairs.

“Holy moly!” she muttered, hoping the howling wind covered up her exclamation. Her dream hadn’t included this!

“We’ve been wait…er, what a dreadful night. Do come in…miss,” the deep resonant voice invited. A voice as smooth as liquid sin. It was the only voice a man like this could have. Jenna allowed him to take her hand and draw her into the chilly front hall.

When he released her hand once she was safely over the threshold, it was as if he removed a warm glove, leaving her cold and without comfort. If it were possible, her nipples tightened even more though not from the chill air.

He stood well over six feet. Six-two? Six-three? The hall was neither bright nor shadowed. Several sconces of candles placed strategically along both walls provided enough light to scrutinize her host.

His crystal blue eyes drilled into her, and she wondered for a moment how deeply into her soul he could see. Dark eyebrows slashed across his face, though one was now arched in an unspoken question. Full, generous lips parted to reveal even teeth. She would have used the word chiseled to describe his face but a bold nose kept her from assigning that adjective. What she could see of his hair when he closed the door was that he wore it long and tied at the nape of his neck.

She’d always had a thing for men with long hair­well-groomed, of course. But it was more than the length of his hair that had her heart pounding.

Available now from Liquid Silver Books

Here is an excerpt from my 14th century historical, Captured, the second in the Le Monte Dynasty series. “François scrubbed his hand across his eyes, willing the deep ache of longing in the pit of his stomach to return to indignation on her part. A slight rustling in the doorway brought his attention back to the present--or did it? There, in all her pale white glory stood...Lady Asherton? “Minaret, I bring you greetings from Sharif al Thamir, your most humble servant.” In his astonishment at finding the object of his erotic musings at his door, François had not noticed the towering eunuch, Ag-riz, standing at her side. Now he dragged his attention from the beautiful woman with the downcast eyes to the speaker. “My master, the illustrious Sharif al Thamir, could not help but notice your fascination last night with this woman. It is with great joy in his heart that he presents her to you for the remainder of your stay in Bandar. A pitiful offering compared to the gift of his son’s life which you returned.”

With the conclusion of his speech, both eunuch and Lady Asherton sank to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the marble floor. François stood rooted, staring at the crouched figures. Had all his problems just been solved by a gesture of gratitude from the sultan?

When neither moved, it was a long moment before he realized they were waiting for his permission to rise. “Please, stand. Bowing is not necessary.”

They rose as one, and François thought he caught a reproachful expression on the man’s face. It was gone in an instant. Lady Asherton’s eyes remained downcast.

“She is called Rana and has been thoroughly trained in the arts of pleasuring a man. It will be her honor to provide any service you desire.”

François’ gaze returned to the stunning figure before him. She wore a blazing red silk robe belted at the waist but open above to reveal two creamy white breasts. A slender gold chain was woven through brilliant ruby-encrusted nipple rings. The ends of the chain rested firmly in the eunuch’s meaty fist.

Kohl had been used to color the pert pink nipples to a rich dark auburn. Pressure from the eunuch’s grasp kept the chain taut and her nipples erect. François’ mouth watered at the thought of leading her about by that chain. He would wind it around his hand again and again, drawing her closer to him with each turn until those glorious nipples caressed his chest.

A sheer crimson veil covered the lower portion of her face, hiding any blush his close scrutiny may elicit. Oh, she knew what she did to a man. It was not necessary for her to raise her eyes to know she made his cock hard and his blood boil. That happened to any man who had the good fortune to gaze upon her.

With a tug, Ag-riz passed the chain to François. “Again, my master wishes to thank you for restoring his son.” Bowing, Ag-riz backed out of the chamber, leaving them alone in the darkened room.

Available now! Liquid Silver Books

Here is an excerpt from my 14th century historical, Betrayed, the first in the Le Monte Dynasty series. Arrianna held her head high, refusing to acknowledge his presence. She'd be damned to perdition before she'd allow the bastard to know how effected she was by his close proximity. Andre, the Black Wolf of Le Monte, towered before her. How well she remembered every contour of his once beloved face. His olive skin, smooth and taunt over high cheekbones, cheekbones covered with a velvet soft, close-cropped beard. His piercing midnight eyes that became heavy lidded when he spoke of love…and pleasure. Hair long and black as sin, and always, an errant lock falling upon his forehead. And his mouth, a mouth that could make the most jaded courtesan beg for its caress. But that was long ago and needs be forgotten. She refused to allow her body to rule her wits, but he leaned close and his scent invaded her mind and her body longed to follow. She inhaled a slow, deep breath, praying the images of his sensuous affections would leave her soon. Images of a sleek mountain cat, his skin covered with a light sheen of sweat crowded out all around her. The desire in his eyes blatant, unyielding as he knelt before her naked body, spreading her legs wide for his pleasure. Slowly, he eased his weight onto her as his mouth found hers. His soft beard tickling her chin as he whispered erotic promises.

His shaft probed against her soft opening. His tongue sweetly lathed hers before coaxing it back to his mouth. As he gently sucked, her heart had overflowed with love for this man as she prepared herself for his tender invasion. She held her breath as he drew back and...