Weekend Excerpt–Lost & Bound

LOST & BOUND is the second book in my Dream Dominant Collection. The series is currently four stand-alone contemporary erotic romance novels featuring sexy Alphas and the smart, strong redheads they can’t resist, all with a healthy dose of light BDSM.

In Lost & Bound, spoiled Hollywood actress Shasta Pyke is sent to the wilderness of northern Ontario for a few weeks following a brush with the law. When she encounters bush pilot Blake Walker, she assumes she can manipulate him the way she does everyone else in her life.

But this Daddy Dom’s not falling for her act. In fact, as Blake spends time with her, he begins to see the frightened little girl she hides from the world. Could she be the baby girl he’s been looking for?

Here’s a teaser from Lost & Bound.


Blake went outside, needing space, needing to breathe.  She followed along behind him.  “What do we need to do now?” 

“Are you hungry?” 

She frowned slightly.  “I guess I am.  I hadn’t thought about it until now.” 

“How about I catch us some fish for lunch?” 

Her expression was doubtful.  “Just like that, you can catch some fish?” 

“Just like that.”  He winked at her and headed for the plane to get his rig. 

While Blake took his fishing rod a few yards down the shore, Shasta sat tailor-style on the dock and watched him.  He flicked his wrist and she heard a whirring sound as his line flew out over the lake and plopped into the water.  Then he slowly reeled in his line, the lure bobbing along the top of the water as it moved closer to him.   

His open tackle box sat beside her on the dock and she began to look through all the items it held.  There were lures of all sizes, shapes, and colors.  In the bottom was a clear plastic box full of lead balls of various sizes.  And one small compartment held a pink rubber worm that sparkled in the sunlight.   

Curious, Shasta picked up the pink worm and grinned as she squeezed it. 

From the shoreline Blake called to her.   

“Hey!  Are you touching my tackle?” 

She looked up at him, surprised.  While the aviators hid his eyes, there was no mistaking the smug curve of his lips.  She matched it with a sassy smirk of her own.  “Do you want me to touch your tackle?”  Her giggle echoed across the water, and he grinned broadly. 

“Here we go,” he murmured, reeling halfway through his third cast.  He jerked up on the line and reeled faster. 

Shasta jumped up.  “Did you get one?” 

“Yup.  He’s not a huge one; we’ll need at least one more.”  He reeled the fish closer to the shallow water and scooped it up with a blue net before depositing it into a large bucket filled with water.   

Shasta ran over to look.  The fish in the bucket was pond-scum green, mottled with streaks of brown.  “Ooh, he’s kind of ugly.” 

“Ugly?  That’s a smallmouth bass right there.  He’s good eating.”  She eyed him skeptically.  “Would you like to try?” 

“Really?” she grinned, wide-eyed. 

“Really.  Go pick out something from the tackle box and I’ll put it on a line for you.”  While Shasta returned to the tackle box, Blake retrieved another fishing rod from the plane. 

“I don’t know what to pick.  What if I pick the wrong thing?” 

Guilt gnawed at his gut as he remembered the way he’d criticized her earlier in the day.  “You can’t get it wrong.  Pick anything you like.” 

She grinned up at him, and he felt his heart melt.  “I like the sparkly ones.  I think I want the pink worm.  He’s nice and squishy, plus, he sparkles.”   

Blake nodded.  “The pink worm it is.”  Quickly he attached it to her line and handed her the rod.  “Now, all you do is…”  He stood behind her, reaching around to help her hold it properly.  “Just bring it back and flick it forward, holding your thumb on this button on the reel.”   

Shasta watched as the pink worm sailed out over the water.  “Now just slowly reel it back in.”   

She did as he said.  Blake stepped back to watch as she concentrated, absently chewing on her bottom lip as she turned the reel.  When the worm lifted out of the water, she turned to him, frowning.  “I didn’t catch anything.” 

“Just keep doing it,” he chuckled.  “It takes time.”  He returned to his place on the bank and cast out his own line again.   

On her fifth cast, Shasta felt a tug on her line.  “Ooh, I think I have something.” 

Blake dropped his rod and hurried back to her.  “Good.  You’re doing fine, just reel him in.”  She gripped the rod like her life depended on it, reeling as quickly as she could, her rod bending dangerously toward the water.  “You’ve got it, bring him a little closer and I’ll get him in the net.”   

As soon as the fish was within reach, Blake used the net to scoop up their second smallmouth bass.  He took it off the hook and placed it in the bucket with the other one.  Shasta peered into the bucket before grinning cheekily at Blake.  “My fish is bigger than yours.” 

He laughed out loud.  “Yes, yours is bigger.” 

She nodded proudly.  “Yep, me and the sparkly pink worm, we rocked this.” 

She circled her fists around in front of her, performing an impromptu “cabbage patch.” 

“Do you want to clean yours by yourself?” 

Shasta immediately frowned.  “No.” 

“Well, don’t go getting too big for your britches, then.”  Blake carried the bucket to a board wedged waist-high between two birch trees.  “How about I build a campfire and clean the fish?  You can go get the skillet and some plates?”  He nodded toward the cabin. 

When she returned from the cabin carrying a large cast-iron skillet stacked with a pair of white-dotted blue enamelware plates and a variety of utensils, a fire was roaring in the stone ring and Blake was filleting the first fish.  Shasta placed everything on a stump near where he was working and sank onto a log close to the fire.   

Neither of them spoke.  Somewhere further down the lake, a loon called and they heard it echo across the water.  Blake’s attention was on the fish but out of the corner of his eye, he watched her assessing him. 

“Have you always been a mountain man?”  Her expression was earnest. 

Blake’s head dropped back as he laughed out loud.  “A mountain man?  Is that what I am?” 

Shasta smiled sheepishly.  “Aren’t you?” 

“Well, I grew up at the lodge.  My grandparents built the place.  My grandmother was Miranda.  The lake is named for her.  But I haven’t always lived here.  I went away to college.  After graduation, I worked for a while as a wilderness counselor.  I was in the woods a lot, but I was based in Toronto.” 

“A wilderness counselor,” she repeated thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, you know, we worked with troubled city kids, took them out and taught them survival skills and self-reliance, that kind of thing.” 

“You worked with bad kids?” she wondered. 

He shook his head.  “They weren’t bad, really.  Just…lost.  They needed help to find their way.”   

“Why did you stop?” 

Blake shrugged.  “My folks ran the lodge for years until my dad’s stroke.  They retired to Florida.  My sister and her husband started running the place full-time.  When that asshole bugged out, I came to help her.” 

Shasta watched him appraisingly.  “That was really nice of you.” 

“She’s my sister.  I’d do anything for someone I love.”  He placed a grate over the fire and set the skillet on top.  “Besides, I’m happy to be home.  I drive past my old school every time I go into town.  There are a lot of great memories.  I don’t really miss the city.”  He sat opposite Shasta on another log. 

She laughed lightly.  “It must be odd to come back to live where you grew up.  I imagine you were the big football hero around here.” 

He shook his head.  “Football is for sissies.  We played hockey.” 

“Oh, excuse me, hockey,” she laughed.  

“That’s right.  Hockey.  A man’s sport.”  He reached into his mouth, and to her surprise, removed his right front tooth and the one beside it.  “Where I come from, if you have all your teeth, you weren’t really trying.”  He laughed at her shocked expression as he refit the teeth into his mouth. 

Shasta grinned smugly.  “I’ve got you beat, mountain man.”  She stood and leaned toward him, parting her lips and baring her perfectly straight, whiter-than-white teeth.  She ran her forefinger across them.  “All of these are fake.  I had them all capped.  Can’t have uneven or discolored teeth in Hollywood.  Nope.” 

She sighed as she sat back down.  “Nothing about me is real,” she murmured. 

He eyed her curiously.  She gave him a sidelong glance, then ran a finger down her nose.  “Nose job.”  She waved a handful of hair.  “Extensions.”  She grabbed her tits.  “Boob job.”  She looked down at the dirt.  “Even my name is fake.” 

Blake had been watching her with interest.  “Your name isn’t Shasta?” 

She snorted.  “Who would name their kid Shasta?  Eddie gave me that name when I was five.  He told my parents that nobody would hire Amy Malone.  I needed a name with pizzazz.”  She waggled jazz hands.  “I think he has a list of names in a drawer someplace and you just get the next one on the list.” 

“So your name is Amy.” 

Shasta nodded.  “But nobody’s called me that since my grandpa died.  He thought all the acting stuff was stupid.  He kept telling my parents to let me just be a kid.”  She laughed.  “He refused to call me Shasta.  My grandpa was a pretty stubborn guy.” 

His expression was soft.  “Why would you get a nose job?  Or breast implants?” 

She shrugged and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes.  “Eddie said the boobs would help me transition between being a child actor and an adult.” 

Blake could feel his protective nature surging.  “Eddie’s that guy who brought you here?  He made you get a boob job?” 

“He didn’t make me.  But I knew he’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”  She used her toe to push a patch of pine needles back and forth. 

The fish was done, and Blake was glad for the distraction.  He plated the fillets, handing one to her and taking the other for himself.   

“Oh, my god, this is amazing,” she moaned through her first bite. 

He grinned.  “Nothing like fresh bass, right out of the lake.  Unless it’s fresh trout, right out of the lake.  That’s pretty good, too.” 

They enjoyed their lunch without conversation, appreciating the quiet of the wilderness.  The silence was broken only by the crackling of the fire or the occasional call of a loon.  Once again, Shasta felt a sense of peace settle over her. 

Blake took her plate when she was finished.  “Now, we’ll see about washing up these few things and then we’ll blow this pop stand.” 

LOST & BOUND by Pandora Spocks

LOST & BOUND is available at this universal Amazon link:
mybook.to/LostAndBound

Weekend Excerpt–FOR SPARROW

When I started writing the Dream Dominant series, my collection of stand-alone novels featuring light BDSM themes, I wanted to do something different. There are tons of billionaire Dominant stories out there, and I love reading them, don’t get me wrong.

But I was more interested in writing about ordinary people who quietly live out a power exchange dynamic in their real, every day lives. There are plenty of couples out there who have discovered their true Dominant or submissive selves and are blessed enough to have found partners who understand them. I know. I’m one of them.

One of the most rewarding moments of my writing career thus far was winning the Golden Flogger Award for Dream Dominant Book 3, FOR SPARROW. It’s meaningful to me that not only did they like the story, they approved of the way I portrayed the lifestyle.

In FOR SPARROW, Jessi Crenshaw is devastated when her husband Graham dies unexpectedly. But he seems to have had an inkling that his health was in decline, because he made provision for Jessi in case something happened to him. Turns out he’s asked his protege in the lifestyle, firefighter paramedic Judd Farris to look after Jessi until she’s on her feet again.

As the pair struggle to navigate their unorthodox platonic Dom/sub relationship in the face of their growing mutual attraction, they each wonder if maybe Graham had something more permanent in mind.

Here’s an excerpt from FOR SPARROW.


Downstairs, Judd was battling his own imagination.  Ducking under the outdoor shower, cold water ran over him, washing away the traces of salt and sand from their surfing adventure, but his thoughts were on Jessi, currently naked and in his shower.  He’d spent the afternoon drinking in the sight of her perfect ass as he held the surfboard for her.  Not like he hadn’t had his hands on it before, but always with the barrier of clothing.   

His misadventure in dating had done nothing to slake his libido which was currently doing a floor show in his swim trunks.  All he wanted was to unleash his inner beast on a woman who could not only take it, but would enjoy it. 

Was it wrong to think of Jessi like that?  Could that possibly be what Graham had had in mind all along?  His thoughts drifted to the last conversation he’d had with his friend.   

“I swear, Judd, I want Jessi with every fiber of my being.  Once I gave her a safe space in the context of a Dom/sub relationship, she bloomed sexually.  She’s so sexy and uninhibited.”  Graham shook his head sadly.  “Truth is, I can’t keep up with her.  Things don’t…work the way they used to.  I’m too old for her.  Always was.  Hell, she was eighteen when we met.  I’m a selfish fool.” 

Turning off the water, Judd sighed deeply, dried quickly with a towel, and headed into the house to prep the fish for the grill. 

He was humming softly as Jessi came downstairs.  He still had on the black board shorts, and he’d pulled on a white t-shirt.  She was wearing the same pink and green Lilly Pulitzer sundress she’d worn to the baby shower, but she’d scrubbed her face clean of makeup, belatedly realizing that she’d forgotten to toss her makeup into her bag, and she’d towel dried her hair as much as possible, leaving her red waves to dry the rest of the way on their own. 

“Hi!  What can I do?” 

Judd turned, started to reply, and stopped, mouth open.  Without makeup, Jessi looked ten years younger.  And he’d never seen her hair when it hadn’t been straightened.  It was drying in sexy waves around her face.   

“You look—“ 

She rolled her eyes.  “I know.  I forgot to pack my makeup.” 

“I was going to say, you look very pretty.  Is your hair naturally wavy?” 

“Yeah,” she blushed, “I usually blow it out straight, but…” 

Judd shook his head.  “I don’t know why you do that.  It’s beautiful the way it is.” 

Jessi blushed a deeper shade of pink and clasped her hands together in front of her.  “Anyway…  What can I do?” 

“Well,” he said, picking up a plate of fish fillets, “I just seasoned the mahi.  Rice pilaf is going on the stove.  If you wanted to throw together a salad?”  He raised his eyebrows. 

She nodded firmly.  “Salad.  I’m on it.” 

They enjoyed dinner on the patio, the sky shifting from the orange and pink Jessi had noticed upstairs to a deep indigo twilight, the stars blinking on over the gentle swells of the ocean.  The teak table was lit with a pair of citronella candles against the odd mosquito, and Judd had built a fire in the pit just off the patio.   

Conversation over their grilled mahi dinner and sauvignon blanc centered on their adventures over the past couple of weeks.  The mood was light and happy, and Judd, for one, was glad for Jessi’s company.  Her face lit up as she recounted her surfing attempts and the pair laughed easily.   

Buddy devoured his bowl of kibble and promptly passed out again.  Judd and Jessi carried their dishes into the house, quickly restoring order to the kitchen.  Jessi glanced at her watch and decided that she should be leaving soon. 

“Do you have to go?” Judd asked, noticing her checking her watch. 

“Oh, you know, I should probably head home.” 

“We haven’t had dessert yet.” 

Jessi chuckled.  “I’m so stuffed from that delicious dinner.  I don’t think I could take another bite.” 

“Come on, Jessi, there’s always room for dessert,” he coaxed.  “Wait til you see.”  Judd opened a cabinet, removed a few items, and placed them on the counter. 

Watching curiously, Jessi had to laugh.  “Chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows.  S’mores?” 

Judd nodded proudly.  “S’mores.  You can’t resist s’mores.  Nobody can.  It’s a known fact.” 

Laughing again, Jessi followed Judd back outside.  “I haven’t had s’mores since…  Well, probably not since that time I took the kids camping.” 

“Then you’re long overdue.  This stuff is left from when my sister and niece were here.”  He took two steel barbecue skewers, placed two marshmallows on the end of one, and handed it to Jessi.   

“One, please.  I just want one marshmallow.” 

He grinned, sliding a single marshmallow onto the other skewer, and they traded.  “Lightweight,” he teased.  “Now, let me show you how it’s done.”  He held the marshmallows a distance away from the flames, allowing them to slowly begin to warm. 

“Careful there, you might accidentally roast those guys,” Jessi jibed.  She poured more wine for him and for herself. 

“Kid if you must,” Judd replied, “but these bad boys are going to be perfection.” 

Jessi sipped her wine, watching as the marshmallows began to slowly expand while remaining pristinely white.  “I have a different method,” she commented. 

“Oh, you do, do you?” 

“Yup.”  She prepared a graham cracker, breaking it into two pieces and placing a square of chocolate on one of them.  “Watch and learn, fire boy.” 

Taking her skewer, she fixed him with an arched eyebrow before plunging her marshmallow directly into the flames.  When she pulled it out again, the round white confection was engulfed in blue flame.  Gently, she blew out the fire to reveal a charred marshmallow. 

“You burned it,” Judd observed. 

“It’s crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside.  Pure perfection.”  She lay the marshmallow on top of the chocolate and used the other graham cracker to slide it off the skewer.   

She waved her hand over the top of her dessert with a triumphant flourish.  “Tah-dah!” 

By this time, Judd’s marshmallows had tripled in size and were just beginning to turn a toasty golden brown.  “See, this is how you make a s’more.” 

Carefully, he carried his marshmallows to the table where Jessi had prepared his graham crackers and chocolate.  He slid the marshmallows off the skewer and pressed the top cracker on, gooey marshmallow running over the sides. 
Judd motioned for Jessi to sit, and he perched on the stool at an angle to her, their knees just brushing under the table.  He lifted his s’more and held it out to her.  “To adventure!” 

Jessi picked up her own dessert and touched it to Judd’s, laughing lightly.  “Adventure.” 

He continued to watch her thoughtfully as she nibbled her s’more.  “Thank you, Jessi, for such a great day.”   

In the candlelight, his eyes flickered and Jessi felt the tingle in her belly.  And lower. 

“It was fun.  It really was,” she murmured, hoping the dim light hid her blush. 

Judd bit into his s’more with gusto, leaving a trail of marshmallow down his chin that dripped onto his shirt.   

Jessi giggled happily.  “I knew that was too much for one s’more.” 

“It was just the right amount,” Judd returned, sweeping the errant goo off his shirt and licking it off his finger.  “The graham cracker just couldn’t hold all the awesomeness.” 

Jessi laughed again, pointing to his chin. 

“What?” 

“You missed a spot.” 

He cocked his head, trying to see his chin.  He aimed his tongue at the corner of his mouth.  “Now?” 

She shook her head and slid off her stool.  “I’ll get it.”  Stepping closer, she swiped her finger up his chin, removing most of the white confection.  Without thinking, she popped her finger into her mouth, but she didn’t miss the heat in his eyes. 

Impulsively, she leaned forward and lapped at the corner of his mouth.  He tasted of chocolate, marshmallow, salt water, and sin.  A low groan emanated from Judd’s chest.  Jessi leaned back to look him in the face. 

“Little one,” he whispered. 

Stepping deliberately closer, she straddled his right knee and leaned in again, planting light kisses where the marshmallow had been. 

Judd placed his hands on her hips and moved her back a bit.  “Are we crossing this line?”  His voice was soft, hopeful. 

Jessi blinked and nodded.  “Yes.  Please.” 

He didn’t wait for further permission.  He wasted no time in claiming her lips, devouring them as he pulled her closer, raising his knee to meet the warm needy place between her thighs.   

Jessi gave herself over completely to his kiss.  She’d craved it for longer than she was willing to admit to herself.  She’d loved Graham.  But Graham was gone.  And he’d given her permission to move on.  It was time she gave herself permission. 

Judd broke off the kiss and stood her back from him, steadying her when she wobbled a bit.  He fixed her with his best Dominant glare.  “You will be kneeling at the foot of my bed in two minutes.  You will be dressed.  I will undress you.” 

Jessi immediately bowed her head.  “Yes, Sir.” 

Watching her scurry into the house, Judd leaned back, interlacing his fingers and placing his hands on the back of his head, and exhaled slowly.  The thing he hadn’t dared hope for was happening.   

He’d known the minute he’d seen Jessi, way back at Graham’s funeral, that he was attracted to her.  The time they’d spent together had only solidified that fact.  But convention and their own agreement had kept him from considering a relationship a possibility.   

Now it seemed they were both on the same page.  He sighed again, thinking of the responsibility of formally being Jessi’s Dominant, and he realized that it was precisely what he wanted. 

He nodded to himself.  “This is right.”  Dousing the candles, he pushed away from the table, checked the dying embers of the fire, and followed Jessi inside. 

FOR SPARROW by Pandora Spocks

One-click award-winning FOR SPARROW today!
mybook.to/ForSparrow

Weekend Excerpt–LUKE & BELLA


“It’s not a big deal.  I like to be in charge when it comes to romance, to sex.  I like to be the protector, to take care of my woman.  And,” he added softly, “if it doesn’t blow your mind too much, I think you are the perfect submissive.” 

My Dream Dominant Collection is a series of stand-alone contemporary erotic romance novels with a light BDSM theme. The books feature sexy Alphas and the sassy redheads they can’t resist.

LUKE & BELLA is Dream Dominant Book 1. The story grew out of my musings on what might be the best job in the world. I decided traveling the world and being paid to do it must be the ultimate ‘nine to five.’

In the story, veteran television journalists Bella Grant and Luke McGillicutty are thrown together to create a new tv travel show. As they visit exotic cities and stay in luxurious hotels, they eventually give in to their mutual attraction. But there’s something important Luke has neglected to mention to Bella that could ruin everything.

Here’s a teaser from LUKE & BELLA.


Bella padded out into the sitting room in her pajamas, a thin black tank with pink bottoms.  Looking down, she realized she wouldn’t feel comfortable dressed this way if Luke came in, so she went back for a bathrobe.  Still hot from the bath, however, she draped the robe over a chair thinking she could grab it when she heard the door.  If, that is, I’m still up when he comes back, she considered. 

She poured another glass of wine and wandered to the french doors, watching as lightning streaked across the sky, occasionally replacing the warm glow of the firelight that filled the suite with flashes of cold blue.  Large raindrops peppered the glass as the wind whipped the hotel, Edinburgh castle lit up and barely visible in the distance. 

It’s such a lovely place, Bella thought.  Such a cozy night.  I could curl up now and fall asleep to the sound of the storm. 

Instead, she sat on the floor in front of the fire, laptop before her.  Luke had dumped the raw video and created folders on the desktop.  She perused them one by one.  Airport, Ailsa, McTavish’s, Distillery…Hmmm…Let’s start at the end and go backwards, she decided.  Distillery it is

She was completely engrossed in the video of their lunch with Nevin and Maw when Luke suddenly burst through the door.  Every molecule of her body went rigid and a strange gasping scream rolled up from her toes. 

“Jesus H., McGillicutty!” she exclaimed, jumping up.  “You scared the shit out of me!” 

He started to reply and couldn’t.  For a moment all he could do was stare.  She was dressed in a black tank top with pink pajama bottoms.  And, he noticed, she wasn’t wearing a bra, erect nipples pointing toward the ceiling.  Probably had something to do with being startled out of her skin, he realized.  She’d been working on the computer.  There was a glass of wine next to her. 

“Are you ok?” she asked, more softly.  She flushed, understanding the focus of his gaze and belatedly she realized she’d left the robe on the other side of the room. 

“Um, yeah,” he answered.  “I was just ready to come back.  Is there more wine?” 

“Sure,” she answered gently, “but you’re absolutely drenched.  I’ll get you a towel.”  Her robe was on a chair next to the bedroom door, but the wine made her feel bold, so she ignored it.  Let him look, she thought, and she felt her nipples harden again at the idea. 

Bella returned with a fluffy white towel from the bathroom.  “You’re dripping water everywhere,” she observed quietly as she handed him the towel. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

She shrugged.  “Not my floor,” she replied.  “I can hang your shirt over the shower,” she offered. 

Luke pulled the buttoned chambray shirt over his head, the way men so often do.  Bella shook her head.  Why don’t they ever use the buttons? she wondered irritably. 

He handed her the shirt, murmuring his thanks, and began to dry off using the towel.  She eyed his muscular shoulders and broad chest, appreciating the fact that the latter was dusted with salt and pepper hair, oddly enough white on the left side, black on the right, with a black line trailing down his toned abs toward…  Focus, girlfriend, she scolded herself. 

When she returned from hanging his shirt, he’d finished toweling off and had draped the towel around the back of his neck.  Bella poured him a glass of wine and topped off her own as well.  Turning, she walked to him and handed him his glass of wine.  “What’s going on, Cowboy?” she asked.  He looked at her, startled.  “I’ve heard you call yourself that.  I like it,” she shrugged, replying to his unasked question. 

“Like I said, I was ready to be back,” he explained.  “The pub was noisy and I was tired.  How’s the footage?” he asked, steeling himself for her reaction. 

“Great!” she answered, smiling.  “Beyond great, actually.  I was already happy with the content, but Luke, the lighting, the angles, the composition…You have an amazing eye.” 

Luke couldn’t believe his good luck; she hadn’t seen his video from the airport.  He sipped his wine and watched her looking at him, concern still showing on her face.  He gently touched her arm, lightly stroking from her shoulder to her elbow.  Bella felt electricity ripple through her body and she stopped breathing. 

“I missed you,” he said simply. 

After a beat, she recovered enough to try to make light of his words.  “Missed me?” she laughed lightly.  “You were gone for a couple of hours.”  Nervously, she turned and moved to the french doors again, the better to watch the storm and get a little space. 

Towel still hanging around his neck, Luke followed her to the window and stood behind her, looking over her head and out at the storm.  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and she stilled breathlessly.  Leaning down, he caressed her right shoulder with his lips.  “Bella,” he whispered, and he turned her to face him. 

She looked up at him, breath ragged.  He moved his hand to lightly stroke her jaw line with his thumb.  “I missed you,” he said again, his eyes dark.  He traced her lips with his index finger and Bella struggled to catch her breath.  “I want to kiss you,” he said.  “Would that be okay?”  Bella, brown eyes wide, could only nod assent. 

Luke leaned in to her slowly; it seemed like it took a week for him to reach her, and then his lips were on hers, gently at first and then more intense, more demanding.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her kiss matching the fervor of his.  He held her waist, slowly moving his hands down to cup her ass, pulling her in to him. 

Luke moved his right hand up until it cupped her left breast and she moaned into his kiss.  Then he brushed her nipple with his thumb, causing her to gasp.  “I want you,” he breathed into her ear. 

Bella leaned back and looked at him, eyes shining with desire, her heart pounding.  She buried her hands in the hair on his chest, then looked back up at him again.  Luke tugged at the front of her tank top, pulling it down to expose her left breast with its hard pink nipple and he covered it with his mouth, licking and suckling hard.  She arched her back forcing her breast closer to him. 

“Oh, God, Cowboy!” she breathed.  “Please…” 

He looked up at her and grinned.  “Please what?” he teased. 

“Oh, please…” she managed. 

He gripped her shirt by the bottom and pulled it over her head, standing back to admire her.  “Jesus, Bella,” he breathed, taking in the sight of her before he wrapped her in his arms again. 

He lay her gently on the floor in front of the fire.  “Put your arms over your head,” he whispered, and she complied.  Lightly, he brushed her body with his fingertips starting at her hands, then down her arms and across her breasts, down her stomach…He paused at the pajama pants, then slid his hand over the mound between her thighs, caressing through the fabric.  She bucked and brought her hands down to his shoulders, but he took them lightly and replaced them over her head. 

“Shh, be still,” he whispered.  Gently, he tugged at the pajama pants and pulled them down and off, panties and all, so that she lay naked before him, firelight reflecting off her body. 

“Seems to me you’re way overdressed, Cowboy,” Bella said, gazing up at him, her voice husky. 

“We’ll fix that,” he grinned as he unbuckled his belt, undid his khakis, and stepped out of them, revealing black boxer briefs containing an impressive erection.  Bella chewed her lower lip in anticipation.  Luke knelt over her, leaning down to kiss her, and then stretched out beside her, head propped up on his left elbow, allowing his right hand explore her form. 

“I want to touch you,” she breathed.  He nodded so she brought her hands down, first running her fingers through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his hard sex. 

He closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure.  “Oh, baby, you’ve got to stop or this will be over way too fast.”  Removing her hand, he reached to stroke between her legs, caressing and circling before sliding a finger inside.  Bella buck and gasped, almost coming right there. 

“Well, well, m’lady, you seem to be ready for me,” he whispered. 

“Please Cowboy, I want you,” she begged. 

Luke pushed himself up over her, shimmying out of his boxer briefs.  “As m’lady wishes,” he breathed into her ear, and he began stroking her soft folds with himself before pushing inside.    Her center was warm and wet and the pleasure was intoxicating. 

He felt Bella grip him and she began to rock her hips up and down, matching his rhythm and increasing with his intensity. 

“It’s okay, baby girl, let it go,” Luke whispered.  And she did. 

“Oh, Cowboy!” she cried as she shuddered, gasping. 

He was close behind her, his own ecstasy tearing through him like a freight train. “Fuck!  Bella!” he gasped and then collapsed beside her. 

LUKE & BELLA by Pandora Spocks

LUKE & BELLA is available at this Universal Amazon link:
mybook.to/LukeAndBella

Weekend Excerpt–WARRIOR MINE

When WARRIOR MINE, the 4th book in the Dream Dominant series, came out a few months ago, it was to 5-STAR reviews. Like all Dream Dominants, it’s a stand-alone contemporary erotic romance novel featuring a hot Dominant and a strong, smart submissive.

But unlike other Dream Dominants, it’s actually a spin-off from an earlier work, LOST & BOUND, Dream Dominant Book 2. Readers of that book suggested that a pair of supporting characters deserved their own story, and WARRIOR MINE was born.

Single mom Jackie Walker is the older sister of Blake Walker, hero of LOST & BOUND. She’s strong because she’s had to be. When her husband abandoned her and their two children in favor of greener pastures, Blake gave up his job as a wilderness counselor and returned to Lake Miranda to help her run the remote guest lodge that’s been in the Walker family for generations.

Now, his best friend and mentor Scott Nielsen has left the same youth camp to start his own wilderness survival school. Hoping to base his school at Lake Miranda Lodge, he looks up his old friend.

Blake has mentioned that he has found the submissive of his dreams. And while Scott’s happy for him, he feels a nagging sense of envy. What would it be to give up random encounters at the BDSM club in favor of his very own sub?

Jackie fascinates Scott. She’s strong and capable, determined to make a go of the business, even in the face of extreme setbacks. Is there any way she’d accept him as her Dominant, any way she’d agree to just let go and allow him to care for her?

Read an excerpt from WARRIOR MINE.


While Jackie got the children tucked in with an extended bedtime routine, an allowance made due to Emma’s illness and Grant’s injury, Scott made a few preparations.  By the time Jackie closed Grant’s door, Scott was waiting for her in the hallway. 

She gave him a tired smile.  “All I wanted was to wash my hair today, and now I’m so tired, all I can think of is to fall into bed.” 

He nodded.  “I know.  Come with me.”  She gave a puzzled frown and he gestured.  “Come on.” 

She followed him to her bedroom door, which he opened, allowing her to precede him.  The first thing she noticed was that her bed was made, in stark contrast to the disorganized heap she’d left that morning.  She looked at him sharply. 

“As long as I was making the bed anyway, I gave you fresh sheets,” he explained. 

Her mouth flew open.  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said quickly. 

He tilted his head toward her.  “I know.”  He gestured further.  “Come.” 

He led her into her bathroom, where he’d placed a kitchen chair backed against the bathtub.  Jackie stopped and frowned again.  “What’s going on?” 

“I’m going to wash your hair.” 

Jackie looked up at him in disbelief.  “No, Scott, seriously, you don’t have to do that.  I’ll just wash it tomorrow.” 

“Jackie,” he said softly, “sit.” 

She wrung her hands.  “Well, I…” 

He pointed to the chair.  “Sit.”  His tone was quiet but intense. 

Reluctantly, Jackie sat in the chair and looked up at him. 

“Good girl.  Now hold on, because I’m going to lean you back.”  While Jackie gripped the sides of the seat, he carefully tilted the chair, so it leaned against the side of the tub.  He rolled a towel and gently placed it under her neck. 

“How’s that?” he asked. 

“Um, it’s good, but really, Scott, you don’t have to—” 

“Enough.  I want you to just relax.  I’m going to cover your eyes.”  He folded a washcloth and lay it over her eyes. 

Jackie breathed out heavily and clasped her hands tightly in her lap.  Scott started the water, allowing it to reach just the right temperature.  Then he pulled the knob, diverting the water to the hand-held shower head, which he used to soak her long dark locks. 

Scott spoke in gentle, hushed tones.  “Okay, Princess, it’s time to clear your mind.  Just let everything go.  Concentrate on what you feel.” 

“See, the thing is, you really don’t have to do this—” she began. 

“Jackie, if you don’t stop talking, I will gag you.” 

Her mouth formed a tight O, and she clamped her lips closed.  Scott grinned as he worked fragrant lavender-scented shampoo through her hair.  When the lather was thick, he gently massaged her scalp, earning a soft moan. 

“That’s right, Princess.  Relax.  I’ve got you.” 

He thoroughly rinsed her hair and followed up with conditioner, treating her scalp to another massage.  Jackie released the death-grip on her hands, her arms now dangling loosely beside her.   

After Scott rinsed her hair for the final time, he wrapped her head in a cottony blue towel and gently sat her up again.  Jackie blinked against the harsh bathroom light as the cloth covering her eyes fell into her lap.   

“Now, sit tight.  I’m going to dry your hair,” Scott told her. 

Jackie started to object, and he silenced her with his best Dom look.  “Not a word, Princess.  We’ve come this far.  Don’t make me gag you now.” 

She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms, and he had to laugh. 

Sectioning off her hair, he used a large round brush to dry each part until her long dark hair was glossy.  He put down the dryer and checked to see that her hair was completely dry, running his fingers through her tresses, and not missing the way she closed her eyes and sighed.   

“Okay, Jackie, I think we’re done.  Now,” he fixed her with an arched brow, “do what you need to do to get ready for bed.  I’ll be tucking you in tonight.” 

He left her in the bathroom and crossed to her bedroom door.  “I’ll be back in ten minutes.  When you’re ready, you can wait for me right there.”  He closed the door behind him before she could answer. 

Out in the hallway, he released a heavy sigh.  Washing Jackie’s hair had been a deeply sensual experience, and he knew that she felt it, too.  Heading over to the island for the time being was the right call.  Aside from the obvious benefit of freeing up one more guest room, it would give her the distance she needed to consider the things he’d told her about entering a Dom/sub relationship. 

And it would give him the distance he needed to stop daydreaming of having her in his bed, having her on her knees at his feet.   

He snorted.  There wasn’t enough distance on the planet to get those thoughts out of his head.  Still, moving out of the lodge was the right decision.  He’d get busy with the cabin renovation and hopefully, things would sort themselves out.   

A glance at his grandfather’s watch showed him that ten minutes had elapsed.  He returned to her bedroom door and knocked lightly before letting himself in.   

As she’d been instructed, Jackie was seated on the chair in the bathroom.  She’d changed out of the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn all day, and was now wearing an oversized white Mickey Mouse t-shirt, which she self-consciously pulled as far down her thighs as she could. 

Scott nodded approvingly.  “Good girl.  Come,” he held out his hand, “I’ll tuck you in.” 

Jackie stood, reaching for his hand.  He led her to the bed where she waited while he turned down the covers, then she sat on the edge and pulled her feet up.  Scott fluffed the pillows and patted them gently.  Jackie lay back and allowed him to pull up her covers.   

Tenderly, he gazed down at her.  “Okay, Princess.  It’s been a long day.  I hope you have sweet dreams.”  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Good night.” 

He started to go, and she reached out to take his hand.  “Scott?”  He turned to her.  “Thank you.  I really appreciate everything you did today.  Especially for saving Grant.  I don’t know—” Her voice hitched.  “I don’t know what I would have done.” 

He leaned down to kiss her hand.  “You’re more than welcome.  I’m so happy I was there.” 

He crossed to the door, pausing to turn.  “Good night now.  Sweet dreams.”  He clicked off the light and closed the door. 

WARRIOR MINE by Pandora Spocks

One-Click WARRIOR MINE today!
https://amzn.to/2E5bFKC

Oops! I Did It Again…

JENNY’S VOICE, Redheads & Ranchers Book 1 is out and doing great! And I’m nearly 30k words into the second book in the series, HUNTER’S PRIDE.

So…
The other day, a wild hare struck and I started a new project that has nothing to do with ranchers. It does feature a redhead, because, have we met?!

Take a little sneak peek at the (unedited) first chapter of what I’m tentatively calling Desperate Times.

Two pink lines.
Behind the locked bathroom door, Charley stared in disbelief at the plastic stick in her hands.  Her heart pounded, and she felt tiny beads of sweat forming on her upper lip.
This is really happening, she thought.  Holy shit!

Chapter 1
(six months earlier)

At the tinkling of the bell over the door, Charley Weatherly looked up from the well-worn Charlotte Bronte novel she’d been perusing behind the counter at Once Upon a Bookshop, the dream into which she’d poured her heart and soul and most of her 401k.  

“Hi there, Charley!”  Reggie Baxter had been walking the same mail route since before Charley was born.  The space currently occupied by the bookstore had had numerous incarnations during that time, including a bar and a dry cleaner, among other things.

“Hi, Reggie!  What’s the good news?”  She smiled at the old man.

“The good news is, next Friday is my last day.  I’m retiring.”

“That’s great, Reggie, congratulations!”  Charley accepted the stack of mail he proffered.  “What are your plans?”

“Oh…” With a far-off look in his eye, he leaned back on his heels, shifting the mailbag that was slung over his shoulder.  “First off, I’m going fishing in Florida. After that, who knows?”

Charley grinned good-naturedly.  “Do you really have to go all the way to Florida to go fishing?”

The letter carrier shrugged.  “Never did like the Pacific too much.  Florida fishing is a lot more relaxing.  California’s too uptight.”
Charley had to laugh.  “I’ve never been fishing either place, so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Grinning, Reggie opened the door and paused.  “How’s your grandmother doing?”

Consciously forcing back a grimace, she smiled.  “She’s doing well, thanks.”

“Tell her I said hello.”

“I will, Reggie.”  She waved as he walked out the door, headed past the front windows of the shop, and passed out of sight.

Enveloped in silence once again, Charley breathed a deep sigh.  Her grandmother hadn’t been doing well for months now. But that wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.  Talking about things made them more real somehow. And she wasn’t ready to face what was happening to her grandmother.

Anymore than she was ready to face the stack of bills Reggie had dropped off.  If she flipped through the pile of envelopes, she’d see ‘Final Notice’ stamped across the fronts of most of them.  But that would ignite the pain in the pit of her stomach, so she opted to sweep them into a drawer beneath the counter, the better to deal with them later.

She gazed around the shop recalling the day three years earlier when she’d first seen the space.  It had been empty for some time, abandoned when a psychic palm reader had gone out of business.

But in the empty and crumbling space, Charley had envisioned shelves full of her favorite books.  She’d majored in English literature at Cal State and following graduation had landed a job as a copywriter with a marketing firm.  

Which she’d hated.  But it had afforded her to save up enough money to walk away three years later and start her dream business, a small boutique bookstore.

She’d created a cozy space with a comfortable seating area near the front windows, places for book lovers like herself to relax and try before they buy.  She’d even scheduled live readings and a few book signings, too, all to try to drum up more business.

But unfortunately, downtown Modesto wasn’t exactly a mecca for the literati.  Those who did like to read tended to head to the Barnes & Noble out on Highway 219.  Or to order their books online.

Which Charley couldn’t fathom.  Walking around the counter, she wandered down the 19th-century romance aisle, dreamily dragging her fingers across the spines of the stories she knew by heart, including a full complement from her namesake Bronte sister, Charlotte.  

How could you tell whether you wanted to read a book without touching it, hefting its weight, flipping the pages to release that divine fresh-paper scent?  
And ebooks?  Charley snorted.  Please! Talk about the Big Macs of the literary world.

Apparently, though, not everyone saw it the way she did.  Foot traffic in the downtown area wasn’t sufficient to bring in the hoards of customers she desperately needed.  She had her regulars, but the reality was that she’d lost money every quarter since she’d been open. Her savings had gone to the purchase and renovation of the storefront, and now her 401k was seriously depleted.  The bills Reggie had brought were all long past due.

Reluctantly, Charley realized it might be time to let go of her dream.  Nana wasn’t getting any better. It had started with little things, misplaced reading glasses and socks put away in the refrigerator.  Now, there were times when she didn’t recognize Charley, or she mistook Charley for her mother, calling her Denise.

Gently, Charley would remind her.  “No, Nana, remember, Mama died a long time ago.”  

The old woman’s face would crumple and she’d break down in tears.  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“You were there at the funeral, Nana.  Remember? That’s when I came to live with you.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right.  You’re Charley, Denise’s girl.”

“That’s right, Nana.”

She was grateful that the next door neighbor had agreed to check in on her grandmother during the day while Charley was at work.  But that was not a sustainable arrangement. Charley had done some checking into an assisted living facility with a memory care program.  And while it wasn’t cheap, the portion of her 401k she’d squirreled away, along with Nana’s social security, should be enough to get her in.  But to stay long-term?

She rolled her eyes.  That would require Charley to sell the business and go back to work for a company that paid an actual salary and benefits.

Sighing heavily, she turned around and headed back to the counter.  If it stayed quiet for the rest of the day, maybe she’d tweak her resume and upload it to one of those job websites.

DESPERATE TIMES (working title) by Pandora Spocks

There’s no timetable for the release of Desperate Times. I’m still busy working to finish HUNTER’S PRIDE and the third Redheads & Ranchers book, HANNAH’S HEART.

But if you haven’t nabbed your copy of JENNY’S VOICE, it’s available at your favorite online bookseller. One-click yours today!
books2read.com/JennysVoice

Weekend Excerpt–JENNY’S VOICE

It’s out! JENNY’S VOICE, the first book in my new Redheads & Ranchers Series, came out Tuesday.

Jenny Stone has been silent for the last two years, rendered mute by unimaginable trauma since the day her parents were brutally murdered and she was taken by ruthless crime boss Victor Sorkin. She’s been his ‘pet’ since that horrific day, his own personal good luck charm.

When she sees her chance to escape, she takes it, stowing away in the horse trailer of unsuspecting cowboy Cole Caldwell. When he finds her there, he’s torn between finding help for the terrified young woman and reassuring her that she’s safe with him.

Privately, Jenny and Cole feel the inexorable pull of attraction. But Cole knows Jenny’s been brutalized and he’ll be damned if he’ll take advantage of her in any way. And Jenny’s positive that the handsome rancher wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as damaged and used as she is.

But love is a funny thing, often finding a way in the most impossible of situations.

To celebrate the first weekend of its release, here’s a steamy little teaser from JENNY’S VOICE.


Late that evening, Cole sat in the leather chair in the corner of his bedroom, an open book resting on his lap.  But he realized that he hadn’t read a line in the last fifteen minutes. His thoughts were on the day, on the possibility of new clients, on the delicious pot roast dinner…and on Jenny.

He was falling in love with her, he knew it.  And he felt the same from her. Theirs was such an odd situation, though.  She was, for all intents and purposes, on the run. And no one except Cole knew who and where she was.

At some point, she’d have to agree to go to the authorities.  Undoubtedly, there was an open investigation into her whereabouts.  Not to mention the fact that she had insight into a serious criminal enterprise.

Cole sighed deeply as he scrubbed a restless palm across his mouth.  He didn’t know what to do. So far, he’d done nothing. And inaction was action, wasn’t it?

A creak of a floorboard drew his attention to the hallway.  Jenny stood uncertainly in his doorway. Her fingers were interlaced in front of her and she appeared to be wearing one of his long-sleeve dress shirts, the sleeves rolled about halfway up her arms.

He smiled softly.  “Hi, Jenny. Everything okay?”

She nodded, staying where she was.  “Yes. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me.  I’m not getting much reading done anyway.  What do you need?”

Wordlessly, she padded on bare feet to where he sat.  To say that he was surprised would be an understatement when she took his book and placed it on the bedside table, then slid onto his lap.  He was almost positive that beneath his shirt, she wore nothing at all.

Consciously keeping his hands on the arms of the chair, he drew a shaky breath and met her eyes.  “What’s going on, Jenny?” he asked softly.

She reached up with her left hand to cup his jaw and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.  He welcomed her kiss, matching her passion while struggling to hold back the desire that flared at her touch, her proximity.

“It’s okay,” she breathed as she broke the kiss.  “You can touch me.”

Heart pounding in rhythm with the pulse in his burgeoning erection, Cole leaned back and gazed at her with hooded eyes.  “Are you sure?”

She nodded, green eyes alight with desire.

He let out a long breath.  “If we’re gonna do this, darlin’, you’re gonna set the pace.  The last thing I want to do is to hurt or take advantage of you.”

She gave him a tender smile.  “You’d never hurt me. I know that.”  Leaning slightly forward, she took his hands from the chair arms and placed them on her bare ass.

Caressing her smooth flesh beneath his fingers, he pulled her closer, positioning her heated sex against the bulge in his jeans.  She tucked her hair behind her ears and stared down at him, her green eyes sparkling.

Her fingers fluttered to the buttons of the dress shirt she’d appropriated and slowly, she unfastened them, revealing the hollow between the inner curves of perfectly shaped breasts, a smooth stomach, and a thatch of tight red curls where she rested against his hardness.

He shook his head slightly and swallowed hard.  “Jesus, Jenny,” he breathed.

True to his word, he waited, allowing her to initiate another deep, languid kiss as she ground against him.  She allowed the shirt to slip from her shoulders, and she moved his hands around to cup her firm, round breasts.  

He lightly brushed his thumbs across her tight pink points and she gasped.

“Is that alright?” he murmured quickly.

She nodded.  “Yes. Please, oh yes.”

He peered into her eyes, gauging her response.

“Cole?”

“Yes?”

“Will you please take me to bed?”

He hesitated.  “Are you sure?”

She nodded, and he felt reassured.  He held her tightly against him and stood, walking them the two steps to the bed where he gently lay her down.  Jenny watched with heated interest as he shucked his grey t-shirt and jeans, leaving them where they fell.

Naked, he climbed into bed beside her, resting on his side and gazing at her tenderly.  “You’re in charge, darlin’. What you say goes.”

A lone tear rolled down her cheek and he caught it with his finger.  “I want you to make love to me,” she whispered.

He smiled softly.  “Yeah?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.”

Cole leaned in and captured her lips with his, pouring his passion through his kiss.  She placed his hand on her hip and he took things from there, sliding his hand up to cup her breast once again, this time taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tugging gently, encouraging it to stand taut.  Jenny moaned lightly.

Leaving her lips, he trailed kisses down the side of her neck.  He slid his hand back down to her hip, and Jenny pivoted slightly, moving his hand to the needy space between her thighs.

Cautiously, he met her eyes.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes, please,” she hissed.

Smiling, he cupped her sex, feeling the heat there.  He increased the pressure, and Jenny moaned again as she pressed against his hand.  Finding purchase with his fingertips, he began a slow circular path around her sensitive bud.

 She arched against him, tightly fisting the sheets on either side of her body.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

Pleased, Cole increased the pace of his circles, watching as Jenny’s face contorted with pleasure, delighting in the moment when she shattered against his hand.

Her body was still shuddering as he propped up on one elbow and drew his fingers lightly up her belly and between her breasts.

Breathless, she opened her eyes.  He grinned down at her lovingly. “How was that?”

She nodded, panting.  “It was…great, but…”

He frowned slightly, waiting to hear what she would say.

“I need you, Cole.  Please.”

His heart hitched.  “You’re sure?”

He saw the desire in her eyes.  “Please,” she whispered.

Nodding, he reached into the drawer of the bedside table and removed a foil packet.  Hesitating a moment, he checked the date printed on the back, sighing with relief. It was still good for another three months.

A glance back at Jenny showed him she was watching him carefully.  “I’ve had these a while,” he laughed. “Just checking to make sure they’re still good.”

She reached for him.  “Hurry.”

He slid between her legs and held himself over her.  “With pleasure.” With that, he plunged his lips to hers, devouring her this time, delighting in the fact that she matched his fervor.  Pausing, he used his teeth to rip open the foil packet then roll the condom over his ready cock.

Watching her face, he parked himself at her entrance.  “Ready?”

She nodded, sliding her hands up his sides to rest them on his back, and he gently pressed forward, just breaching her entrance.  He felt her contract around him, and he ventured further.

“Oh, yes,” she hissed in his ear.

He continued forward until he was buried to the root.  There, he stayed still, feeling her acclimate to his length and girth.  His skin prickled in goosebumps as she lightly nipped up the side of his neck to his earlobe, which she sucked sensuously.

Unable to resist, he rocked his hips back and plunged in again, this time earning a gasp from Jenny.  Emboldened, he pumped in earnest, feeling her walls tighten even as her breathing came in sharp bursts.

“I’m almost there, Jenny,” he murmured into her ear.  “This is what you do to me. Come on, darlin’, come with me.”

Just as he felt his release nearing the point of no return, she cried out, shuddering in pleasure.  It was all he needed to tip him over the edge of his own climax as with one more thrust, he held himself deep within her, pouring out his essence.

Still trembling, he lowered himself beside Jenny, carefully disengaging from her.  He padded to the bathroom to take care of the condom, then returned to the bed, gently gathering her to himself.  Her eyes were closed, and she was still breathing hard. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

JENNY’S VOICE by Pandora Spocks

One-click JENNY’S VOICE today!
books2read.com/JennysVoice

Weekend Excerpt–JENNY’S VOICE, Out February 12, 2019!

JENNY’S VOICE, Redheads & Ranchers Book 1,
comes out February 12!

Jenny Stone survived the brutal murder of her parents only to be taken by the ruthless crime boss responsible for their deaths. Nearly two years later, when she sees her chance to escape, she takes it, slipping into the horse trailer of an unsuspecting cowboy.

Cole Caldwell leads a quiet life as an in-demand horse trainer, able to charge high fees from his wealthy clients to support his non-profit activities. When he discovers a terrified young woman hiding in his trailer, he’s beyond shocked.

She’s been beaten, and apparently, she doesn’t speak. Cole is determined to see that no one ever lays a hand on Jenny again.

But she’s convinced dangerous men are looking for her. What will happen if they find her?

Here’s a sneak peek at the first chapter of JENNY’S VOICE. And don’t miss the book trailer following the excerpt.


RUN!

Every fiber of her being screamed at her, willing her to shake off the fog that veiled her mind, willing her to save herself.

Jenny Stone shakily pushed herself up into a sitting position in the back seat of the black SUV, ignoring the pulsing of her swollen left eye, trying desperately to focus with her right one as she peered through the dark-tinted windows.

Her minders, Slater and Wilcox (she had no idea of their first names, nor did she care to know) had left her when they’d gone into the truck stop restaurant where the truck sat parked.  They’d assumed she was unconscious, which she had been, momentarily knocked out by Slater’s right jab to the left side of her face.

This after backhanding her across the mouth.  Her mouth was filled with the harsh metallic tang of her own blood, and she tentatively pushed her tongue toward her puffy lip.  Thankfully, her teeth seemed to be intact, no thanks to Slater’s meaty blow.

All because she’d fought him.  And she’d do it again. Every time.

She might have no say when it came to Victor Sorkin, when he summoned her in the middle of the odd night, or when he gifted her to certain esteemed business associates.  But she’d be goddamned if she’d allow Victor’s slimy minions to presume to take their fill of her.

The trio had been on their way from Los Angeles to San Francisco.  An arms dealer with whom Victor hoped to do business was staying at the Four Seasons.  Jenny was meant to be a good-will offering for the weekend.
At the moment, she had a bigger problem, though.

“Now what are you going to do?” Wilcox had asked.  Jenny, her head pounding, had feigned unconsciousness.

“She’s all beat up.  We can’t take her to San Francisco like that.  And we can’t take her back to Mr. Sorkin, either.  He’ll want to know what happened.”

“She’s not going to tell him anything,” Slater had snarled.

“But what will you tell him?” Wilcox had wondered.

Slater had growled and punched the dashboard.  “Stupid retard cunt! Kicked me in the balls so hard, I still can’t breathe right.”

“What are we going to do?”

Squinting through her good eye, Jenny had seen Slater turn to look at her.  “We’ll have to kill her.”

“We?!  What the hell are you talking about?  I didn’t touch her,” Wilcox had squeaked.

“What happens if we take her to San Francisco?  Hauer calls Sorkin to complain about the merchandise.  And Sorkin kills us.”

He’d glared at Wilcox, daring him to contradict him.  “What happens if we take her back to LA like that? Sorkin kills us.”

He’d shaken his head.  “It’s the only way. We drive all the way to San Francisco.  Because he’ll be tracking us on GPS. We stay in front of the Four Seasons long enough to make it look like we took her upstairs.  Then we go to our hotel. We’ll rent a car, take her out into the boondocks, and get rid of her.”

“But Hauer will call to complain that she never got there,” Wilcox had reasoned.

“We’ll say he’s lying.  We’ll say we delivered the girl.  Then it’s all on Hauer.”

Wilcox had nodded slowly.  “It might just work.” He’d sounded somewhat less than convinced.

“Come on,” Slater had said, with one last glance into the backseat.

“Let’s go get something to eat and work out the details. The bitch is out cold anyway.”

After the pair had left, Jenny had forced herself to remain motionless, counting to a thousand before opening her eyes.  By now, her left eye was swollen completely shut, and her lip felt as though it was ten times its normal size.

She had to get out.  They’d be back any minute.  If she rode with them to San Francisco, there would be no escape.  This was her one chance. She supposed she should count her lucky stars Victor had decided for them to drive rather than fly.  Something about the private jet being grounded for routine maintenance.

The cloudy day threatened rain, but so far, it had been dry.  With the midday sun obscured by clouds as it was, Jenny wasn’t certain of the time, but she’d guess early afternoon.  The truck stop was busy, with semis and all sorts of vehicles constantly entering and leaving.

Across the way, she saw a cowboy in a pale straw hat checking on a horse in a vintage turquoise and white horse trailer pulled behind a silver pick-up truck.  Seemingly satisfied with the horse’s well-being, he turned and walked across the parking lot, passing right by her and into the restaurant as she watched from the SUV.

GO! her brain screamed at her.

She looked down at herself.  She was not dressed for walking around a truck stop.  In her slinky club dress with its halter top and micro-mini skirt, she was more suited for the function she was expected to perform.

Not anymore, Victor.  She kicked off the silver stilettos and glanced toward the restaurant.  She couldn’t see Slater and Wilcox in the window booths. It seemed safe to assume they were seated further inside.

Carefully, she opened the door and stepped barefoot onto the pavement.  The day was cool, and she instantly felt chilled. She closed the door quietly and, head down, she moved in the direction of the horse trailer.  

Once she got there, she scanned the parking lot.  Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with their own business.  On her tiptoes, she peered into the trailer. Only one of the two stalls was occupied.  She tried the tailgate hopefully, but it was locked. Glancing around again, she saw that the lot was briefly empty of people.  She stepped up onto the bumper, reached the top of the tailgate, and pushed herself up. With one last glance over her shoulder, she leaned forward, tumbling headfirst into the trailer.

The horse, a large brown and white spotted Appaloosa, whinnied in protest, stomping her feet and pulling at the rope tethering her to the front of the trailer.

Carefully avoiding the shuffling hooves, Jenny crab-scrambled backward to the front wall of the trailer.  A large black jacket hung from a hook, and she jerked it down, slipping it on and zipping up the front.

The jacket was huge, probably meant for someone the size of the cowboy she’d seen, but it was warm.  She tucked her knees under her chin and drew the jacket down over her bare legs and feet, pulling the hood over her head.

Come on, come on.  She willed her pounding heart to slow down as she waited for the cowboy to come back and drive them away from the truck stop.

JENNY’S VOICE by Pandora Spocks

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