Weekend Excerpt–LUKE & BELLA

It was the job of a lifetime…

Strong-willed ginger Bella Grant is a take-charge television journalist with an appetite for adventure. Handsome and sexy Luke McGillicutty is a world-weary photographer coaxed out of premature retirement with the promise of traveling the world with a smart, spunky redhead. They’ve been paired up to create a new brand of television travel program.

Traveling to romantic destinations, staying in first-class hotels, finding adventure at every turn, it’s not surprising that the two fall in love. Luke is stunned to realize that Bella is the woman he’s looked for his whole life. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and courageous.

The only thing is, Luke hasn’t been completely up front with her. He hasn’t told her that he’s into BDSM. He could play it safe, keep the relationship going exactly the way it is. But Luke wants more. As a Dominant, he craves the intimacy that a Dom/sub relationship provides. And he knows without a doubt that Bella is the perfect submissive. How will she react if he approaches her about submitting to him as a Dominant? Maybe she’d be intrigued by the idea. On the other hand, he could lose her forever.

Life on the road working with Bella is great. Nights spent in Bella’s arms are amazing. Should Luke just be satisfied with the way things are? Or should he risk everything on the chance that they could have it all?

In this scene, Bella has had it with her snooty sister-in-law. Warning! Family drama ahead…

Pulling into the drive, they could see the house situated at the end of a long straight lane shaded by centuries-old oak trees that were draped with Spanish moss. The white antebellum home was two stories tall and fronted by six white columns. There was a broad front porch running the width of house with a matching veranda on the second floor. Bella felt a perverse sense of pride. Bad memories and associations aside, the plantation house was undeniably beautiful. Still, she was glad that Tre and his family lived there. She was perfectly content in the townhouse.

Tre stopped, parking the SUV out front and they crossed the porch to the front door, entering a grand foyer. Tre called, “Cornelia, we’re home.” The smell of something good for dinner filled the house.

Cornelia came out to greet them, wiping her hands on her vintage apron, all Southern grace and gentle manners. She was petite and blonde with helmet hair that undoubtedly required a weekly salon appointment. Her delicate stature had always been a compliment to Tre’s tall lanky frame. Bella dutifully hugged her and introduced Luke.

Cornelia grasped his hand in that Southern lady not-quite-a-handshake way and drawled, “So nice to meet you, y’all come on in.” As she turned away Bella caught Luke’s eyes and made a face.

“So how was Daddy?” Cornelia asked.

“Nasty as ever,” Tre answered.

“Oh dear, he’s been difficult since he got sick,” Cornelia began.

Bella interrupted, “Longer than that. You and I both know it.”

Cornelia cooed, “Still, we can’t speak badly about the ill.”

“Just telling the truth,” Bella countered. “Do you have any wine around? I’ve waited about as long as I can.”

Cornelia gave her a pinched look, then smiled, all charm. “Why, of course. Y’all make yourselves comfortable in the living room. Tre, get your sister some wine.”

They heard a shout from the direction of the kitchen. “Hey, is that Aunt Sissy?” A tall lanky boy of about twenty came bounding into the room. He looked like Tre had time-traveled backwards, the resemblance was so strong.

“‘Hey’ is for horses, son,” Cornelia corrected quietly.

Bella squealed with delight. “T-Nathan! How are you?” She gave him a huge hug. “And ‘hey’ is just fine with me,” she grinned, smirking at Cornelia. “So your dad says you’re home from school?”

T-Nathan grinned. “Yep, I took my exams early so I could come home.”

Bella smiled up at him. “It’s so great to see you! I can’t believe you’re a college man now! Holy sh…cow!” she said, glancing at Cornelia, who was making her way back to the kitchen.

T-Nathan laughed. “Nice save.”

Tre handed Bella a glass of white wine then poured bourbon for Luke and himself.

“Well, my boy, the night is young, and I am way sober. Just wait!” Bella laughed. “Luke, this is my favorite nephew, T-Nathan.”

T-Nathan smiled. “Ha! I’m your only nephew! Nice to meet you, sir.” Luke gave Bella a startled look as he shook hands with the young man.

Bella laughed and said, “It’s a Southern thing,” winking at Luke.

Tre took them on a brief tour of the downstairs showing them the kitchen, family room, and his office. Bella was surprised to see some of the updates they’d made.

“Y’all have done some nice things with the house, Bubba,” she commented.

“It’s pretty much all Cornelia’s doing,” he said. “She decided when we moved in that the place was too dark and sad.”

“There’s been plenty of sad,” Bella mused quietly, sipping her wine. She looked out the window into the backyard. “Hey, what’s going on out back?” she asked, referring to the large white tents set up on the lawn.

“Oh! The annual picnic is tomorrow. I hope y’all are coming,” Tre said.

Bella looked at him in surprise. “Really. I thought they stopped having that when Grandaddy died,” she said.

“Well, Daddy stopped it,” he admitted. “I started it again when he retired and I took over five years ago. He was pissed as hell, but it seems to mean so much to everybody.” Tre grinned at them.

“You did a really good thing, Bubba,” she said quietly.

They made their way back to the family room and sat chatting about previous picnics and the plans for tomorrow’s event. Cornelia appeared in the doorway and announced, “Dinner, everyone.”

They all took their places at the table in the formal dining room. After Tre led the grace, Bella chugged the remainder of her wine and poured a second. They passed around platters of chicken cordon bleu and scalloped potatoes, fresh vegetables and homemade rolls.

Dinner was delicious and everyone made polite small talk. Tre encouraged Luke to talk about his time in the Navy and as a news photographer.

After a brief lull in conversation, Tre said, “By the way, we watched your show last night. I thought it was interesting.”

T-Nathan said, “Hey Aunt Sissy, did you really smoke weed in Amsterdam?”

Cornelia glared at him. “T-Nathan, I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

Bella, ignoring Cornelia, smiled ruefully. “Yes. Yes I did.” She drained her third glass of wine. “It wasn’t all that. I can’t see doing it again.”

“And that’s your job?” T-Nathan marveled. “That is so cool! And you sat in that prostitute’s window?”

Bella nodded. “I did, for a little while.”

“Unbelievable,” Cornelia muttered under her breath.

Bella, pouring her fourth glass, drawled, “Reckon I’m gonna get my ass kicked clean out of the Junior League.”

“And here we go,” Tre said quietly.

“Here, Cornelia. Have some fucking wine,” Bella said, all exaggerated Southern accent, and getting louder with every word. “You know, a drink. Might loosen up that cooter of yours and give my brother a break.”

T-Nathan did a spit-take. Cornelia quietly cleared her throat, neatly placed her napkin beside her plate and left the table. “If y’all will please excuse me for a moment,” she murmured quietly.

Luke watched the whole scene, unsure whether to be embarrassed or amused.

“Sissy, why do you do that?” Tre sighed, shaking his head.

“Because it’s easy,” she replied, draining her glass.

LUKE & BELLA by Pandora Spocks

LUKE & BELLA is available
at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/LukeAndBella1

Weekend Excerpt–RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION

Michael and Maggie.
It’s complicated.

When high-profile Manhattan attorney Michael Rannigan hires newly minted lawyer Maggie Flynn, his life is forever changed in ways he could never imagine.

The pair meet at a job fair, where Michael hires her practically on the spot. Maggie’s smart and good at her job. But there’s more to it than he’s willing to admit. He’s attracted to her. Which doesn’t make sense. She’s nothing like the women he dates. She’s way too smart, for one thing.

And Maggie’s in love with him, too. Realizing the situation is all but hopeless, she contents herself with working with him.

One night of passion tears them apart. And from that point they’re both just running rogue, each making questionable decisions in their professional and personal lives.

A moment of desperation brings them back together. After Michael has burned all his bridges, Maggie’s the only one willing to stand by him.

And he’s grateful. He knows he needs to make it up to her, to somehow find redemption for himself.

RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION is available as three separate novels: Resisting Risk, Running Rogue, and Ransoming Redemption. It’s also available as one trilogy.

But now, you can read the entire story of RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION chapter by chapter at serial novel website Webnovel. The image above is the exclusive new Webnovel cover.

In this teaser from RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION, Michael and Maggie meet for the first time.

Michael Rannigan dry gulped three ibuprofen tablets as the car from the service weaved its way through mid-day Manhattan traffic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hangover. The previous night had been exceptional. At an art gallery opening, he’d met twin flight attendants who matched him drink for drink before going home with him for an extended threesome adventure.

I’m getting too old for this shit. Should have called in sick today.

As a partner at Murphy, Rannigan, there was no one to question his absence. But it was his turn representing the firm at the job fair at NYU. Brian Murphy was out of the country on vacation. And James Metheny was recovering from surgery. Tonsils or some shit, Michael mused. Didn’t everyone have their tonsils out when they were five?

Sure, the firm needed new talent. But why did he need to be there? He knew exactly why. Without his presence, John Hemphill would be the senior man there, and that couldn’t happen. Hemphill’s an idiot, he thought.

The car dropped him at the entrance to Vanderbilt Hall. He knew it well. After all, NYU was his alma mater. He took a moment to straighten his tie before entering the building. As expected, the hall was full of fresh young faces, soon-to-graduate litigators who needed jobs. Unconsciously his eye roved, looking for nubile young female candidates. Not necessarily for the firm, mind you. He was always on the lookout for his next conquest. He passed a group of girls who giggled as he walked by.

“Ladies,” he greeted them, flashing his mega-watt smile. Just get this over with, he begged as he zeroed in on the Murphy, Rannigan table.

Already seated at the table were John Hemphill, Stan Hodges, and Ellen Standifer. The trio were associates from the elite 50th floor of Murphy, Rannigan. They were good enough at what they did, which was mostly research and legwork, with the occasional foray into the courtroom when necessity called. Each had a laptop and on the table was a spreadsheet they’d worked out back at the office. Of course, they’d vetted possible candidates before they ever set foot at the university. Preparation saves time in the long run, they knew.

Michael took a bottled water from the table and sipped, standing behind the three and continuing to scan the room. “What’ve we got?” he asked.

Hemphill gave him a brief rundown. “We’ve interviewed five candidates so far, five of the ones we were interested in. We’ve turned away about a dozen others that didn’t meet our standards,” he related in his adenoidal drone that so grated on Michael.

“You’re turning away interviewees who aren’t on your candidate list?” Michael snapped. “How sure are you that your list is accurate? Paper and data don’t always tell the story.” Hemphill reddened a bit.

“Well, I…” the man floundered.

Michael grinned to himself. It’s the little pleasures in life that make it all worthwhile, he thought. He watched as a young woman crossed the floor, seeming to make a beeline for their table. She was petite, with red hair, and she was wearing a grey suit paired with a green silk blouse. What have we here, he wondered.

“Hello,” said the young woman. “I’d like to interview with your firm.” She reached across the table to shake hands with the attorneys seated there.

“And you are?” Michael asked, still standing behind the others.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, clearly flustered. She opened her folio to remove copies of her resume and several slipped out, sailing across the floor. Michael watched in amusement as she scrambled to gather them up again. “Sorry,” she repeated, as she handed a document to each of them.

“Mary Margaret Flynn,” Michael read from the top line of the resume.

“Um, Maggie, actually,” the young woman corrected.

“Have a seat, Ms. Flynn,” Hemphill directed as they read over her resume. Standifer pulled up Mary Margaret Flynn on their database and Hodges located her name on their spreadsheet. There were two stars beside her name. How have we not spoken with this one yet?

Michael took a seat directly across from her. He was impressed with the resume, and he’d found her name on the spreadsheet before

Hodges had. He looked from the document back up to her face. Her green eyes were wide and as she sat, she fidgeted nervously with the atrocious vinyl folio containing her resumes.

“So Ms. Flynn, your resume is impressive. It says that you interned with Rance Stockwell at the DA’s office. I’m surprised he hasn’t offered you a job.”

“Oh, he has,” Maggie replied. “I just haven’t accepted yet.”

“Looking for better offers, are you?” Michael asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I have a great deal of student loan debt,” she confessed. “It makes sense to me to look around and find my best options.”

Michael leaned back in his chair. “Are you familiar with our firm?” he asked.

“Yes, actually,” Maggie answered. “I heard you speak once at a charity luncheon. You said that everyone is entitled to the best defense possible, regardless of the circumstances of their charges.”

Michael tried to suppress a smile. “I said that, did I?” The others at the table snickered.

Maggie’s face reddened a bit as she glanced down the line of lawyers. “It really resonated with me,” she said quietly. “I also tried one of your cases as a mock trial project.”

“Which case did you choose?” asked Michael.

“People v. Lawson.”

The other three snickered louder and Michael looked down at his notes, suppressing another grin. “Well, Ms. Flynn, if you were going to try one of my cases, you might have chosen one I actually won.”

Maggie glared indignantly at the panel. “I, well, I tweaked it a little. I uncovered evidence that you overlooked.” Michael sat up straight; she had his undivided attention. “Testimony in the deposition was contradicted on the witness stand. The victim stated in the deposition that she’d met the defendant two weeks prior to the incident. On the stand she said she’d just met him that night. It was enough doubt for the mock jury. I won your case.”

Michael looked at the other three. If someone had dropped the ball on the case, he or she was currently seated at the table. They all looked down, suddenly intensely interested in their notes.

He cleared his throat. “It seems, Ms. Flynn, we have everything we need. We’ll make a decision by the end of the week and let you know.”

Maggie stood and reached out her hand. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you,” Michael nodded, shaking her hand. He watched her walk back across the room and disappear in the crowd.

RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION by Pandora Spocks

RANNIGAN’S REDEMPTION
is available at your favorite online bookseller.
It’s also available chapter by chapter at Webnovel.

Weekend Excerpt–BIG NEWS for Redheads & Ranchers

Exclusively on Apple Books!

I’m thrilled to announce that this new edition of the Redheads & Ranchers Series is now available,
but you can only get it on Apple Books. The first book, JENNY’S VOICE, is even FREE!

The Redheads & Ranchers Series is a collection of three steamy contemporary romance novels featuring hot ranchers and the redheads who ride in and turn their worlds upside down. If you love sexy cowboys, lots of heat, and plenty of heart, you’ll love JENNY’S VOICE, HUNTER’S PRIDE, and ANNA’S HEART.

Here’s the first chapter from Book 1, JENNY’S VOICE.

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

This special edition of the
Redheads & Ranchers Series
is only available on Apple Books.
JENNY’S VOICE
HUNTER’S PRIDE
ANNA’S HEART
REDHEADS & RANCHERS COMPLETE SERIES

Weekend Excerpt–WARRIOR MINE

She is the perfect combination of princess and warrior.

Scott Nielsen and Jackie Walker

Their attraction is instant from the moment they meet.
But he’s Dominant. And no way is she submissive.
Is it a missed connection? Or a divine appointment?

Scott Nielsen is ready for change. He’s walked away from his career as a wilderness counselor, planning to start his own outdoor survival school. He looks up his old friend and former colleague Blake Walker, intent on leasing space at Blake’s family’s remote wilderness guest lodge. That’s where he meets Blake’s sister Jackie, who runs the lodge with her brother’s help. Her strength and independence intrigue Scott. A single mom, Jackie has no intention of being anyone’s submissive.

In his personal life, Scott is tired of casual sex in the BDSM club scene. Envious watching his buddy Blake fall head over heels for his own submissive, Scott thinks he might be ready to take the plunge himself. As he and Jackie spend time together, he’s enchanted with her inner Warrior Princess. But Jackie’s been burned before. And she has two children who are her priority, not to mention the business to run. As independent as she is, she can’t see relinquishing her power to a man, not even one she’s falling for.

Scott’s heart aches at the idea of not having Jackie in his life. Can she take another chance on love, or will she insist on ignoring her submissive soul?

WARRIOR MINE is Dream Dominant Book 4. If you enjoyed Book 2, LOST & BOUND, you’ll love this spin-off stand-alone story.

Here’s a steamy little teaser from WARRIOR MINE.

Throughout the morning’s activities and on the ride back to the lodge, Jackie and Scott exchanged heated glances. She found herself wishing the day away, longing for the night to come. If he didn’t come to her, she would definitely go to him. She needed him in the worst way.

Unless he really is angry with me, Jackie fretted.

She needn’t have worried. Much later that night, after putting Grant and Emma to bed, Jackie retreated to her own room, taking her time as she showered, washing her hair and shaving various pertinent areas. After blowing her hair dry, she brushed on a touch of black mascara and added sheer lip gloss. She eyed herself in the mirror as she slid a new nightie over her head, a silky seafoam slip gown with a sheer lace bodice.

Ready to tiptoe down the hallway to Scott’s room, Jackie opened the bathroom door and was surprised to find him standing there, bare-chested with his arms crossed.

“You’ve kept me waiting, Princess.” He arched an eyebrow severely, but the heat in his eyes belied his strict demeanor.

She raised her chin defiantly. “Well, I didn’t actually know-“

“Knees. Now.” He pointed sharply to the floor beside his feet, his voice low but intense.

She was tempted to come back with a smart retort but thought better of it. Instead, with a saucy glance his way, she lowered herself to her knees, resting her hands, palms up, on her thighs, the way he’d shown her in the cabin. She tried to still herself despite the adrenaline that thrummed through her veins. As independent as she was, there was something incredibly hot about Scott taking charge.

Her eyes were closed, but she felt him step closer, sliding a bare foot between her thighs. When he wiggled his toes, they touched her pussy, and she gasped lightly.

“You have had a day, haven’t you, Princess?” he asked, tenderly stroking her hair. “You started off by charging after a bear who could have killed you with one swipe of a paw.”

Jackie snorted. “That’s a little dramatic. I hardly think-“

“Silence.” Though his voice was soft, his tone was sharp. “You will speak only when you have the King’s permission.”

Briefly, she scowled up at him then closed her eyes again, sighing deeply.

“You challenged me when I confronted you, and you used profanity. All of that before breakfast.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face toward his. “Look at me, Princess.”

Jackie complied, attempting to fix him with a defiant stare, but failing when she saw the fire in his eyes. Instead, she just blinked up at him, feeling the heat between her thighs as he wiggled his toes again.

“That sassy mouth of yours. I think we need to give it a job.” He lowered his zipper, releasing his solid, erect cock. “Open.”

Unconsciously, she licked her lips and her stomach performed a half-gainer as she saw the precum pooled at his bulbous tip. With a glance up at him, she opened her mouth and took him in, moaning with pleasure as she lapped up his essence.

Scott exhaled deeply, resting a hand on her head. Then he cleared his throat. “Your infractions have piled up. But I’m not going to spank you now. That will come later, when we have more privacy. Because we’re-“

He stopped, gasping as she increased her suction and fisted the length of him that didn’t fit into her mouth. Jackie smiled to herself, as much as she could with her mouth filled with cock, pleased that she could exert a little control over the King.

“Fuck me,” he breathed. “We’re going to need privacy because I’m going to wear your ass out. Right now, however, I’m going to fuck your face. After which, I’ll be fucking your cunt.”

He gripped the sides of her head and shoved himself deep, choking Jackie. She coughed and sputtered.

Scott watched her carefully. “Safeword if you need to.”

Determinedly, she shook her head and continued sucking with gusto as he pushed in and out. She felt his cock grow unimaginably hard.

“Shit, Jackie, I’m coming,” he hissed. “Take it all, Princess. Don’t waste a drop.”

He shoved into her a final time and his hot cum jetted into the back of her throat. Jackie swallowed as quickly as she could, eager to prove to him that she could, choking only once. When he started to remove himself, she closed her lips around him, sucking off any remaining ejaculate and earning a deep groan.

Scott ruffled her hair as he sat heavily on the side of her bed. “That was very good, Princess.” He gave her a quizzical look. “And that was the first time you’ve ever swallowed?”

She nodded smugly, and he smiled. “You get a little more practice, and I’m a dead man,” he laughed.

WARRIOR MINE by Pandora Spocks

WARRIOR MINE is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/WarriorMine

Weekend Excerpt–FOR SPARROW

Golden Flogger Award Winner!

A platonic Dom/sub relationship?
It’s a damn odd arrangement.

When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant.

But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet.

Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral.

A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.

Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?

Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution?

And could it all end at the hands of a madman?

FOR SPARROW is near and dear to my heart for several reasons. For one thing, it’s set where I live in Palm Beach County, Florida. I loved having the main characters visit some of my favorite local places.

In FOR SPARROW, I wrote my first-ever real villain. While Jessi and Judd are working to find balance in their new relationship, a deadly menace is heading ever closer.

This story also has its origin in my musings about a couple of my dear ‘subbie’ friends. And it’s the 2018 Golden Flogger Award Winner for Best BDSM Book, BDSM Light.

Here’s a very steamy little teaser from FOR SPARROW.

They followed the porter up the stairs to the last door on the end. He opened it with a flourish. “Welcome to your suite.”

Judd motioned for Jessi to go ahead, and she entered, finding herself in a small foyer that opened onto a warm, inviting, luxurious suite. The room was appointed with British colonial furnishings in muted earth tones. The king-sized mahogany four-poster bed was flanked by matching side tables, and beyond that was a sitting area with a small sofa opposite a pair of wing-backed chairs, a low table between them. But what caught her attention was the pair of French doors that opened onto a generous veranda overlooking the ocean.

Jessi drew open the door and stepped outside as a warm breeze ruffled her hair. A pair of rattan rockers with thick beige cushions sat pointed toward the water, a small circular table between them. She crossed to the white railing then turned to look back into the room.

Judd was handing a few bills to the porter and thanking him. He closed the door behind the man, then joined Jessi outside. The roof hung over the expanse of the veranda, so that even on a rainy day, the outdoor space could be enjoyed.

“What do you think, Angel?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist and nuzzling her neck as they faced the beach and the water beyond.

“I think,” she tiptoed up to kiss him, “that this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” She nuzzled his cheek, wrapping both arms around him. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m happy you like it. But there are more surprises.”

Jessi looked up at him. “More surprises?”

Judd nodded. “But something’s wrong.” He knitted his brow, feigning confusion. “Angel is here, and dressed, rather than on her knees, and naked. How is that possible?”

She tried to suppress a smile. “That’s possible because Sir didn’t tell me.”

He shook his head in mock exasperation. “Blaming it on me, too? The infractions just pile up. Hurry!” He smacked her bottom lightly as she headed inside, then turned to gaze out over the strip of sugar-white sand separating the land from the crystal blue water.

If he were being honest with himself, he’d have to acknowledge the tendrils of anxiety that tickled his stomach. Offering Jessi a collar was a big step-what if she said ‘no’?

Could she say no? He sighed deeply. He didn’t think so.

He turned back to the room and was pleased with what he saw. He’d been deliberately vague in his instructions for Jessi. She knew to be naked and on her knees, but he hadn’t said where. In the absence of any directive, she’d gone with what was their norm, kneeling at the foot of the bed. His cock celebrated the sight of Jessi, arms behind her, breasts pushed forward, her head bowed submissively with her eyes closed.

Judd stalked noiselessly across the tile floor to where his bags were, unzipping the top of one and extracting a black satin blindfold mask. Jessi waited patiently, eyes still closed. Rather than standing in front of her, which was their custom, he stopped behind her, lightly petting her hair.

“Angel, you are amazingly beautiful. You have no idea. I think,” he slid the blindfold into place, “I want you to forget about seeing for a while. Just concentrate on your other senses.”

He moved back to his bag, returning with a small implement in his hand. To his knowledge, Jessi hadn’t experienced a Wartenburg wheel. At least she’d never mentioned it to him. “Safe words, Angel. What are your safe words?”

“Green, yellow, and red, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he nodded. “Use them if you need them.”

Lightly, Judd drew his fingers across Jessi’s shoulders, leaning down to fondle her breasts. He heard the change in her breathing and knew she was aroused. Her nipples peaked instantly, her areolas simply tight pink puckers around the sharp points.

Applying only the slightest pressure, he drew the spiked wheel up her arm from her elbow to her shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Jessi. He stilled his movements. “Color, Angel?”

“Green, Sir. I was just…surprised.”

Judd smiled, resuming his meandering with the wheel, drawing it across her collarbone to her other shoulder and down, delighting in the goosebumps that formed across her body. Her nipples sharpened to impossibly tight points, and unable to resist, he headed that direction with the wheel, lightly grazing them.

Jessi caught her lower lip in her teeth and groaned softly. Abruptly, he stopped his survey of her torso and walked away, returning a moment later with something different in his hands.

Curious, Jessi listened as hard as she could, straining to hear what Judd might be doing next. As she waited, impatient for his sweet torture to continue, she became aware of the scent of leather. She turned her head this way and that, trying to figure out where it was coming from. She heard Judd’s throaty chuckle and felt a puff of air on her face. The leather scent was a bit stronger.

“I’m not sure what you want me to do, Sir,” she confessed.

“You may remove the blindfold, Angel.”

Jessi loosened her grip behind her back and reached up to slowly slip off her blindfold. Blinking against the soft light in the room, she saw nothing but the bed.

From behind her, Judd lowered a purple leather collar into view. It was plain, for the most part. A strip of purple leather about an inch wide, it was marked only by a quartet of silver rivets in the center of the strip, flanking a D-ring with a round ring attached to it. There was a silver buckle on one end and the other end tapered into a point. Judd moved around and sat on the end of the bed, laying the leather strip over his knee. Wide-eyed, Jessi ventured a finger to lightly stroke the collar. Then she looked up to Judd.

“What do you say, Angel? Will you be my submissive? Will you agree to obey me, trusting me to lead you?”

Jessi stroked the collar again and gazed back at Judd. Her voice was soft. “I’ve already given you my submission. I do trust you to lead me.”

Judd smiled. “This makes it official. I’d be honored Jessi, if you’d wear my collar.” Earnest longing sparkled in his eyes.

Jessi bowed her head. “If it pleases you, Sir, I’d love to wear your collar.”

–FOR SPARROW is the 2018 Golden Flogger Award Winner for Best BDSM Book–BDSM Light.

FOR SPARROW by Pandora Spocks

FOR SPARROW is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/ForSparrow

Weekend Excerpt–LOST & BOUND

Spoiled Hollywood starlet Shasta Pyke is used to getting her own way.
She’s met her match in Dominant mountain man Blake Walker.

Blake Walker is no stranger to tragedy. Immediately following a horrific event years earlier, he was lost for a while until he embraced his Dominant nature and found his true calling. But things change and now he’s back where he started, helping to run his family’s secluded lake lodge.

When pampered Hollywood starlet Shasta Pyke gets into trouble with the law, she’s sent to the wilderness of northern Ontario to cool her heels for a few weeks. There she meets sexy bush pilot Blake, who is tasked with seeing to her needs as the sole guest at the lodge.

Initially, Blake isn’t impressed with the spoiled actress, but he’s happy that her visit allows for his sister Jackie and her kids to go on a much-needed vacation. Try as he might, he can’t figure out what the hell Shasta Pyke is doing so far out of her element.

Shasta’s attracted to Blake’s obvious good looks, but there’s more to him than that. He sees through her armor to the vulnerable little girl she hides from the world. The Daddy Dominant in him craves to shelter her, to make her his own.

Is there any way Shasta will agree to submit to Blake’s Dominance?

Here’s a teaser from LOST & BOUND.

Curiosity got the better of Shasta as the black Lincoln pulled up to the red-painted clapboard lodge. The trip down the unpaved drive from the highway had taken a good fifteen minutes. A friend of a friend of someone Eddie knew had told him about the place.

Shasta had checked it out on her phone. The website wasn’t kidding when they said ‘remote.’ The tree-shrouded driveway opened up onto a clearing to reveal the large main lodge and a sprinkling of small cabins, all painted the same warm red. A sparkling lake was visible beyond the buildings and Shasta could see a small plane at the end of a long dock.

She climbed out of the back of the car and took a few steps to stretch her legs. Still wearing the outfit she’d worn to court, she realized that stilettos were probably not the way to go on the soft ground.

Eddie looked at her across the top of the car. “Well, kiddo, are you ready?”

She flipped her red hair in annoyance and followed him up the front steps and into the two-story building.

They were greeted by a petite brunette woman with a friendly face. “Welcome! We’re so glad to have you. I’m Jackie Walker. This place has been in my family for three generations.”

Shasta shrugged noncommittally. Eddie filled in the gap. “Thank you. Shasta is understandably tired from the trip. I can take care of checking her in.”

“Of course,” Jackie replied, watching Shasta curiously. “Let’s get that squared away now.”

Shasta wandered over to a window and peeked out. “If you think I’m staying in one of these little shacks, you’re crazy.”

“Oh, no, Ms. Pyke, we have you in the island cabin. It’s very private,” Jackie assured her.

“Hmm, island cabin. That sounds more like it.” Digging into her huge black leather bag, she extracted her phone and stalked outside. It wasn’t that she was anxious to talk to anyone. She simply felt humiliated. Her life had spun so far out of her control and she felt like an errant child. She stabbed at the phone anyway, and she was irritated to find that there was no signal.

“Why can’t I get some fucking bars?” she muttered to herself, waving the device around as if she’d catch a signal if she hit just the right angle.

“You won’t find a signal. There are no towers for about a hundred miles.”

Shasta turned and glared at the source of that information. He was a good foot taller than she, with broad shoulders wrapped in some sort of flannel. He had dark brown hair with caramel highlights that glinted in the sunlight filtering through the tall pine trees, and he’d pulled it back, presumably to keep it out of his eyes, which were the most sparkling blue.

Seeing her glare, he raised both hands in mock surrender and walked away, heading for the front door of the lodge. The door opened just as he reached it.

“Oh, good, you’ve met Blake. Blake will be taking you across to your cabin.”

“Oh, good,” Shasta muttered as Eddie shot her a dirty look.

Jackie chose to ignore her sarcasm. “He’ll load your things into the boat and you can get settled.”

“Okay, kiddo, this is where I leave you.” Eddie crossed to Shasta.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” she asked him. She took his arm and led him a few feet away. “Please,” she begged, clutching his hand, “please don’t leave me here. Don’t make me do this.”

“You’ll be fine. Look at me,” he soothed. He gently took her chin and raised her eyes. “You’ve got this. It’s just a vacation. I’ll be back to get you in no time.”

Waves of desolation washed over Shasta and she felt hot tears threatening. She pulled her sunglasses into place and cleared her throat. “Okay, fine, whatever.”

Eddie flashed his winning smile. “That’s my girl. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Shasta fought panic, willing her breathing to return to normal as she watched the car carrying Eddie disappear down the drive. She turned to see the woman watching her curiously.

“Blake probably has your things in the boat by now. But you’re welcome to stay for supper before you go out to the island. It’s not fancy, but it’s good.” The woman smiled reassuringly.

Uncomfortable, Shasta crossed her arms in front of herself. “No, thanks, I’ll just go to my place now.”

The woman nodded. “If you just take that path, you’ll end up at the dock.” She waved to her right. “The kids and I leave for Orlando in the morning. Blake will be here to help you with anything you might need.”

Wordlessly, Shasta nodded and headed off in the direction the woman had indicated.

***

Blake had heard the car pull up. He dawdled, swiping at imaginary smudges on the passenger door of the de Havilland Beaver that rested at the end of the dock. He had no desire to get caught up in whatever celebrity fanfare accompanied their new guest’s arrival.

The voices faded after everyone went inside and still Blake waited a few minutes longer before making his way back up the dock toward the front of the lodge. He was surprised to see a young woman standing alone in the clearing in the center of the cabins. Her back was to him and he took a moment to watch her.

His first impression was that she was sexy as hell. Her shoulder-length hair was bright red, and expensive-looking sunglasses sat perched on top of her head. She was wearing a white halter blouse with a very short black skirt. Her high-heeled shoes were bright pink suede and they wobbled precariously as she marched around holding her mobile phone in front of her like a divining rod.

When he told her about the lack of signal, she whipped around, giving him a glare that would freeze lava. Fine, lady, have it your way, he thought.

Thankfully, Jackie came out with a smarmy-looking older guy in an expensive Italian suit. Blake busied himself retrieving a mountain of bags from the trunk of the black Lincoln. He noticed that the guest of honor grabbed the suit’s arm and pulled him off to the side for a little chat. He wondered if her tone was any friendlier with him, and he figured that it wasn’t.

He’d just finished loading all the bags into the front of the red aluminum skiff when Pink Shoes came tapping down the dock. His gaze started at the shoes and slid up shapely legs to the tight skirt and curved hips. The deep V in the halter top hinted at stellar tits and her lips were a deep red. She wore too much makeup in his estimation, but there was no denying that Shasta Pyke was hot.

“Are you ready to head over to the island?”

He watched her grip her huge black leather shoulder bag, hiking it higher up on her bare shoulder. “Um, yes, please.”

Blake wasn’t sure, but she seemed embarrassed by her earlier behavior. He offered her his hand and she took it, gingerly stepping into the boat. She sat on the center bench, facing forward, away from him, and clutching her bag like it was a life preserver.

LOST & BOUND by Pandora Spocks

LOST & BOUND is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/LostandBound

Weekend Excerpt–JENNY’S VOICE

A traumatized young woman held hostage for years.
The rancher who comes to her rescue.
The crime boss who will kill them both if he finds them.

Jenny Stone’s voice was silenced the horrific day ruthless crime boss Victor Sorkin executed her parents in cold blood and took her as his personal good luck charm. Now she’s his pet, at his mercy when he summons her to warm his bed. Or the beds of his more esteemed business associates.

When she sees her chance to escape, she takes it, hitching a ride with an unsuspecting cowboy, horse trainer Cole Caldwell. Cole’s stunned to find the terrified young redhead hiding in his horse trailer. She’s as skittish as some of the horses he works with, and she’s apparently mute. But the nurturer in him wants to shelter her, to protect her. He’ll do his best to ignore the attraction he feels, content to help her know she’s safe with him.

When Jenny first escaped, her only thought was to get away. But now she’s worried. She’s put Cole in unspeakable danger. Should she leave before Victor finds them? Could it already be too late?

If you like your romance filled with hot cowboys, suspense, and happily-ever-afters, you’ll love JENNY’S VOICE.

JENNY’S VOICE is Book 1 in the Redheads & Ranchers Series.
Sexy redheads and the ranchers they can’t resist.

Here’s a little teaser from JENNY’S VOICE.

As he stepped inside, he was immediately surrounded by the tantalizing aroma of something cooking. He set down the bag and followed Jenny into the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was the table, set for two, a pretty bouquet of field flowers arranged in a Mason jar in the center.

He looked to Jenny, who was carefully watching his reaction. “What’s going on here?” He smiled encouragingly. “And what smells so good?”

Jenny used a folded kitchen towel to remove a dish from the oven and set it on the stove. Cole peered into the dish, where golden chicken breasts sizzled in a thin sauce.

“That looks amazing, Jenny. What is it?”

Her board was lying facedown on the counter. She picked it up and showed him what she’d already written on the other side. Chicken piccata.

“Chicken piccata? I had all the stuff to make that?”

Jenny nodded proudly.

Cole squinted, looking more closely at the dish. “What are the little burned peas-looking things?”

Jenny rolled her eyes. She jotted on her board. Capers.

“I had capers? Where the hell did I get capers?”

She shrugged and hooked a thumb at one of the upper cupboards.

“Oh, it must have been in that basket one of my clients gave me for Christmas.” Cole shook his head. “All sorts of fancy shit–I mean stuff.” He looked to Jenny. “Sorry about that.”

Jenny grinned, then jotted quickly, You can say shit. I’m a big girl. She laughed lightly.

Cole laughed, too. “Good. Well, shit! Yeah, that feels good.”

Waving with her hand, Jenny gestured toward the table.

“Is dinner ready?” Cole asked, and she nodded.

“Alright, let me go wash up and I’ll be right back.”

Cole headed upstairs. As he washed his hands, he wondered about how Jenny had created such a dish with the simple things he kept at the house. She seemed pleased with herself, too. Quite a difference in her from the first time he’d seen her in the back of the horse trailer.

He sighed to himself. They were making progress, and he found that gratifying. Would it be possible that one day she’d decide to talk to him?

When he returned downstairs, the chicken was arranged on a platter. Jenny had placed a bowl of salad on the table, along with a bowl of rice. She’d poured Dr. Pepper for herself, while at his place she’d set out a bottle of Heineken.

“I know this is the fanciest dinner this table has seen in years,” Cole said, sitting in his chair. “We have a centerpiece and everything. You picked these?”

Pleased, Jenny nodded as she took her seat.

“They’re beautiful. The purple ones match your dress and everything.” He smiled at her. “You look pretty tonight.”

Jenny blushed profusely and looked down at her plate, trying to suppress a smile.

“Let’s dig into this fine dinner, what do you say?”

She nodded, and Cole took the platter, serving her first, then himself. They passed the rice and the salad as well. Cole took a bite of chicken and closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him carefully.

“Oh my God, Jenny, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. How did you know how to make this?”

Jenny’s smile faded a bit and she hesitated. Then she jotted on her board. It’s a long story.

Cole regarded her thoughtfully. “Maybe you can tell me sometime.”

She chewed her lower lip. Maybe.

They ate in awkward silence for a few minutes, and Cole silently cursed himself for stepping into something that made Jenny uncomfortable. Wishing to restore their easy rapport, he cleared his throat.

“I know. You’re an undercover chef.”

She gave him a sideways glance and snorted.

Encouraged, he tried again. “You’re a secret chef, and you’re on a mission to educate dumb cowboys like me in the ways of international cuisine.” He drew out the last two words in an exaggerated drawl.

Jenny giggled, tossing her napkin at him.

Cole grinned good-naturedly. “It really is good, Jenny, no lie. Thank you for making dinner.”

After dinner dishes were cleared, Cole remembered the bag he’d left by the door. “Oh, Jenny, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” He reached out his hand. “Come see.”

Her eyes widened, but she took his hand. He led her to the family room and pointed at the couch. “Sit down and close your eyes.”

She hesitated a moment, then sat down. She glanced up at Cole.

“Close’em.”

Pursing her lips, she complied, knee bobbing anxiously. Cole retrieved the bag and placed in on Jenny’s lap. “Okay, now you can open them.”

With a glance at Cole, Jenny peered into the bag. Brow knit in a frown, she pulled a brown cardboard box out of the bag, setting the bag on the floor. With another glance at him, she lifted the lid and gasped.

Cole couldn’t stop the smile as Jenny picked up first one boot, then the other, eyes wide, running her fingers across the purple embroidery.

“I figured, if you’re going to be working in the barn, you’re going to need some good boots. I saw these at the saddle shop and I knew they were supposed to be yours.”

She looked up at him as a smile spread across her face. Standing, she let the box fall to the floor as she came to him, a boot in either hand, and wrapped him in a hug.

“Do you like them?” Cole laughed.

Jenny stepped back and nodded vigorously. Then she pointed up the stairs.

“You want to try them on?”

She nodded again. Gathering up the box, lid, and bag, she hurried upstairs. From where he stood, Cole heard her moving around, drawers opening, the creak of her bed. Then came the clomp of boots on the hardwood floor as she came back downstairs, her face beaming.

She crossed to him, then back to the bottom of the stairs like a fashion model on a catwalk, rocking the new boots with her dress.

Cole couldn’t stop his grin. “How do they feel? Do they fit?”

Jenny nodded happily.

“Okay, then. Wanna go help me out in the barn?”

She nodded again, taking his arm as they headed out the door and across the yard. Every few steps, she looked down at the boots. Cole couldn’t remember ever feeling so pleased with himself.

The horses were waiting near the gate as they approached. Cole opened it, and he and Jenny watched them head straight for the barn. He looked to her. “You do the feed and I’ll do the hay?” he asked.

She nodded, heading for the buckets and feed cans at the end of the barn. As Cole lugged a bale of hay into the first stall, he started singing a cowboy song about not being buried on the lone prairie. When Jenny smirked at him, he winked at her and continued with more gusto.

By the time the horses were in their stalls with buckets of feed and fresh hay, Cole had started the song over, and Jenny was grinning broadly and shaking her head.

“What? Does my singing suck?” he asked.

She shook her head. No, it’s very brave, she jotted on her board.

“Brave?” he laughed. “That’s what they tell people who can’t sing.”

He took Jenny’s hand and twirled her around as he sang, pulling her to himself and launching into an impromptu waltz down the center of the barn.

Cole relished her giggles as he spun them around, drawing out the final note. Breathless, they stopped, Jenny smiling up at him, her emerald eyes wide. Cole’s gaze drifted to her lips, pillowy and soft, no trace of the trauma that had once been there. He felt an almost irresistible pull, as though a magnet drew his lips to hers, but he blinked hard and spun her one last time before letting go.

“Who knew those were dancing boots?” he joked softly. When he looked back at her, he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes. She’d felt the same pull he had. But he knew he couldn’t take advantage of her. That wasn’t who Cole Caldwell was.

JENNY’S VOICE by Pandora Spocks

JENNY’S VOICE is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/JennysVoice

Weekend Excerpt–For Sparrow

A platonic Dom/sub relationship?
It’s a damn odd arrangement.

2018 GOLDEN FLOGGER AWARD WINNER–Best BDSM Book, BDSM Light!

When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant.

But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet.

Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral.

A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.

Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?

Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution?

And could it all end at the hands of a madman?

FOR SPARROW is a contemporary erotic romance novel with a light BDSM theme. It’s the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection.

Read an excerpt from FOR SPARROW.

I buried my husband today.

The thought tumbled through Jessi’s mind over and over, like clothes in a dryer. Voices around her sounded oddly muted, as though she were underwater. Occasionally, someone touched her, a simple grasping of her hand, a gentle pat on her shoulder, and the sensation felt like burning embers showering down over her.

Following the graveside service, mourners had gathered at her home. Hers and Graham’s.

Only Graham isn’t here. We left him at the cemetery. I buried my husband today.

Food had appeared in her kitchen. Casseroles, desserts, salads. There was even a brisket. An army of women had set up a command post and were making sure guests had plenty to eat and drink. Jessi wondered briefly if there was enough ice for the drinks. Maybe she should ask Graham run to out and get some more.

I buried my husband today.

Since that day, her phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Friends and neighbors hadn’t stopped calling and dropping by. “How are you?” “What can we do?” “What do you need?”

Her business partner, Sarah Reid, had been her rock, taking over the events they had scheduled for the week, returning calls Jessi didn’t have the strength to deal with.

“You take all the time you need, hon,” Sarah had told her. “We’ve got it under control.”

Since that day.

“Sparrow, I need to get the oil changed in my car. Why don’t you drive to the mechanic’s and I’ll meet you there? I’ll drop you at your office, and then we can do the reverse this afternoon.”

Jessi had waited at the mechanic’s shop. After an hour had passed, she’d tried his phone. A stranger had answered.

“This is Officer Brooks. The owner of this phone has been in an accident. Are you the wife of Graham Crenshaw?”

A police car had picked her up and driven her to the hospital. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw. It appears your husband suffered a fatal heart attack behind the wheel of his car. When the car hit the utility pole, he was most likely already deceased.” The doctor had had an air of resigned sympathy. Jessi had wondered how many people he pronounced dead on an average day.

Sarah had met her at the hospital and had driven her home. Jessi wasn’t sure how her own car had gotten back to the house. She’d somehow made the calls to Cara and Adam. “Something has happened. Your dad died.”

Cara, age twenty-three, had made her excuses at her job with the Weather Channel, and had taken the first available flight from Atlanta to West Palm Beach. Adam, age twenty-one, had driven from Orlando where he worked as a video game animator.

Jessi and the kids had gone to the funeral home the following day to see to burial arrangements. The funeral director had neatly folded his hands on top of his huge mahogany desk and smiled kindly.

“Mrs. Crenshaw, your husband has everything prearranged. You don’t need to worry about a thing, it’s all taken care of. He has requested that he be buried in a navy suit, with a white shirt and a blue and red paisley tie. Do you know the things he means?”

Jessi had nodded dumbly. What he’d described was her favorite suit of Graham’s. He always looked so handsome, and he’d worn it when they’d celebrated their anniversary a few months back.

He had it all planned out. But when? Did he do it after the heart attack a few years ago? Why didn’t he mention it?

“We’re just so sorry for your loss.” The statement shook Jessi from her thoughts, returning her to the morbid gathering in her living room. It was a neighbor couple from down the street.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not meeting their eyes. She sipped her wine to have something to do, and wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey, hon, how are you holding up?” Sarah asked.

Jessi shrugged and gave a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

“Can we get you something to eat?”

Jessi shook her head and headed back to the living room.

I buried my husband today.

“Jessica. I was just chatting with your lovely daughter and son,” said Rev. Lyman. “Graham was a good man, taken before his time.” He looked at Jessi with slight reproof. “I hope we’ll be seeing you and your family on Sunday.”

“Maybe, Reverend,” Jessi replied softly. “If you’ll excuse me and my children.”

“Of course. Family has to pull together at a time like this.”

They watched him work his way across the room. “I’m not lovely?” quipped Adam.

Jessi smiled at her son. “You’re lovely to me. And you’re welcome for getting the good reverend to move along.”

“Do you love the way Rev. Lyman tried to get in a plug for going to church?” commented Cara.

“My personal relationship with God is exactly that. Personal,” replied Jessi. “How are you two doing?”

“It’s hard,” said Adam, his voice breaking.

“I know. You don’t have to stay for all of this. I have no idea when people will decide to leave.”

“I’m here until Friday,” Cara said. “I don’t want to leave you alone to deal.”

Jessi kissed her cheek and then Adam’s. “Thank you both. I love you so much. Your dad loved you, too.” She felt tears forming again. She felt as though she’d cried out her very soul, and yet tears were always near.

Cara’s here until Friday. What day is it again?

Cara and Adam moved out to find their friends. Jessi turned to look for a place to sit. She was so weary. She was stopped by a woman she vaguely recognized.

“Jessica, I’m Harriet. From church?”

“Oh, yes, Harriet. It was good of you to come.”

“Sweetie, I just want to remind you that Graham is in a better place.” She beamed at Jessi, as though her words bestowed onto the new widow some sort of miracle.

Jessi felt a twitch begin at the outer corner of her left eye. If I don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to scream.

“If you’ll excuse me, please,” she murmured, pushing past the woman. She hurried through the kitchen, ignoring Sarah as she called to her, and slipped out the back door.

The lanai and pool deck were blissfully quiet in the early evening twilight. The sun had set and the lights had come on automatically. She crossed to the far side of the pool, and sat on the raised edge of the spa with her back to the house. Finally alone, she leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs and let the tears flow.

She’d only been there a few minutes when she heard a sound, the soft scuff of a leather shoe against the brick pavers. She sat up abruptly and whirled around.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.” The man was tall and muscular, his dark hair in short waves framing a handsome face, his dark suit cut slim. Large brown eyes were soft and sympathetic.

Jessi sniffed and stood, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “I just needed some air. I buried my husband today.” She looked up at him, shocked. “That’s the first time I said that out loud.”

He smiled kindly. “I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to say that Graham was a good man. He was my friend and I’ll miss him.”

“Thank you. Did you work with him?”

“No. We were friends. I’m Judd, by the way.”

Jessi nodded. “Thank you for coming, Judd. I’m sure he would have appreciated it.” She began walking back towards the house. Judd fell into step beside her.

“I thought maybe I would come back on Saturday, maybe help you with the lawn,” he said.

Jessi was only half-listening, wondering if Harriet had gotten the hell out of her house yet. “Mm-hmm,” she murmured.

“Alright, Jessi,” he said. “Take care, now.”

She nodded and went to find her children.

–From FOR SPARROW, 2017 New Apple Medalist for Literary Erotica and 2018 Golden Flogger Winner for Best BDSM Book–BDSM Light.

FOR SPARROW by Pandora Spocks

FOR SPARROW is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/ForSparrow

Weekend Excerpt–Christmas on Lake Miranda

She is the perfect combination of princess and warrior.

Scott Nielsen and Jackie Walker

Their attraction is instant from the moment they meet.
But he’s Dominant. And no way is she submissive.
Is it a missed connection? Or a divine appointment?

Scott Nielsen is ready for change. He’s walked away from his career as a wilderness counselor, planning to start his own outdoor survival school. He looks up his old friend and former colleague Blake Walker, intent on leasing space at Blake’s family’s remote wilderness guest lodge. That’s where he meets Blake’s sister Jackie, who runs the lodge with her brother’s help. Her strength and independence intrigue Scott. A single mom, Jackie has no intention of being anyone’s submissive.

In his personal life, Scott is tired of casual sex in the BDSM club scene. Envious watching his buddy Blake fall head over heels for his own submissive, Scott thinks he might be ready to take the plunge himself. As he and Jackie spend time together, he’s enchanted with her inner Warrior Princess. But Jackie’s been burned before. And she has two children who are her priority, not to mention the business to run. As independent as she is, she can’t see relinquishing her power to a man, not even one she’s falling for.

Scott’s heart aches at the idea of not having Jackie in his life. Can she take another chance on love, or will she insist on ignoring her submissive soul?

If you enjoyed LOST & BOUND, you’ll love this spin-off stand-alone story.

Join Jackie and Scott in this little Christmas teaser.

On Christmas Eve, after the kids had gone to bed, the adults gathered around the enormous festively-decorated white spruce. Light Christmas jazz played in the background, and outside the floor to ceiling windows, snow swirled lazily in the half moonlight.

Jackie handed Amy a mug of warm mulled cider and settled beside her on a leather sofa with a mug of her own. On the floor, Scott and Blake sat amid the scattered pieces of a pink Barbie house ‘Santa’ had found on sale months earlier and had put away until now.

Winking at Amy, Jackie suppressed a smile. “Did you guys read the instructions?”

“We don’t need the damn instructions,” Blake huffed, pushing a stray lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “We’re two intelligent, grown men. We can figure out how to put together a dollhouse.”

The women clinked their mugs and giggled gleefully.

Amy looked from Blake and Scott to the twinkling Christmas tree, and to Jackie. “I love this.” Her voice was soft, and though she smiled, a tear was in her eye. “This is the Christmas I always wanted.”

Jackie’s heart melted, and she reached for Amy’s hand. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Blake pushed up from the floor and pressed a tender kiss to Amy’s temple. “This is our life, kitten. This is our family, your family. You belong here.”

Jackie smiled across the room at Scott, who winked at her, and she felt a familiar tummy flutter. She loved the man more than she’d thought humanly possible. And when summer came, she’d marry him.

After Blake and Amy retired to the guest room, Scott and Jackie went to bed, quietly making love, then holding each other until late into the night.

They awoke to a bright sunny day, the sky crystal cerulean, the sun reflecting brilliantly off the sparkling snow. Emma and Grant squealed excitedly as they saw the mountain of gifts under the tree. Scott sat at the end of the sofa and Jackie snuggled up beside him, each of them sipping steaming mugs of coffee. Blake and Amy sat opposite them on the sofa’s twin, smiling as they watched the children tearing into their gifts.

Once they were finished, the kids had fun delivering gifts to the adults. Finally, all the gifts were opened. Blake and Amy gave each other a conspiratorial look. “We have a few more gifts,” Amy said.

“More?” Jackie echoed, thinking of the extravagant handbag for her, and the top of the line boots for Scott. “You’ve done so much already, seriously.”

Blake reached behind the sofa and picked up four identical shirt boxes wrapped in metallic red paper. He glanced at the tags and handed one to each of the children and to Jackie and Scott.

Amy leaned forward excitedly. “You have to open them all together. Ready? One, two, three!”

With a bemused glance at Scott, Jackie carefully opened her box. Grant and Emma ripped theirs open. “It’s a shirt,” Emma said, holding up a pink t-shirt.

Grant peered into the box. “Thanks, Aunt Amy,” he said, making an effort to sound enthused about a shirt. “It sure is…pink.”

Scott tilted his head as he looked at his, then elbowed Jackie lightly. She looked at his, then gaped at hers. In sparkling letters across pink cotton, she read, World’s Greatest Aunt.

Jackie gasped. “I knew it! I knew you were pregnant! I’m so excited for you!” she squealed, rushing over to give Amy and Blake a big hug.

“We didn’t want to tell anyone until we knew everything was going to be okay,” Amy explained.

“Cool,” Grant said, pulling his new shirt over his head, “we’re going to be cousins!”

“Aunt Amy, are you having a boy baby or a girl baby?” Emma asked.

Blake grinned. “It’s a little girl. That’s why we gave you pink shirts.”

“Congratulations, man!” Scott grinned as Blake stood and the two embraced. “That’s great news.”

“I can’t believe it.” He shook his head. “I’m going to be a dad.”

Jackie sank onto the sofa beside Amy. “A little girl,” she shook her head smiling. “That’s fantastic.”

Amy nodded, eyes shining. “Do you want to see the ultrasound pictures?”

“I’ll get them,” Blake said, heading in the direction of the guest room.

Grant and Emma returned to their new toys. Scott perched on the arm of the sofa next to Jackie. “I’m so happy for you two,” he told Amy. She laughed happily.

From the direction of the guest room, they heard a tiny yip. Jackie frowned. “What was that?”

Eyes wide, Amy gave an exaggerated shrug. “I have no idea.”

“Uh oh,” Blake called from the guest room. “I think I found another present.”

Jackie looked up to see a shaggy black puppy with a huge red bow come running into the room. He ran straight to the kids, yipping excitedly.

“A puppy,” Emma squealed.

Grant squinted at the tag on the big red bow and gasped. “Mom! It’s for us, from Santa!”

Blake leaned against the doorway looking pleased with himself.

“From Santa, huh?”

“I think Grandma and Grandpa might have mentioned it to the big guy,” Blake grinned.

Oh, for f-” Jackie glanced up at Scott. “Did you know about this?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I promise, I knew nothing about a puppy.”

“They love Bear so much, they need one of their own,” Amy said, smiling.

“So, what are you going to name him?” Blake asked.

Brow furrowed, Grant watched the Newfie puppy for a moment. “Max. He looks like a Max to me.”

Ruffling the puppy’s ears, Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Max.”

Jackie shook her head. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. But I still want to see those ultrasound pictures of my niece.”

WARRIOR MINE by Pandora Spocks

This Christmas, treat yourself to WARRIOR MINE,
Dream Dominant Book 4!
books2read.com/WarriorMine

Weekend Excerpt–Christmas at Michael’s

Michael and Maggie?
It’s complicated.

Brilliant Manhattan attorney Michael Rannigan has his life arranged exactly the way he likes it. As a founding partner at the law firm of Murphy, Rannigan, & Metheny, he can let his underlings do the legwork on the high profile defense cases his exclusive 50th floor division handles. He prefers to simply breeze in and do what he does best: dazzle juries and charm the press.

His private life is well-ordered, too. Michael doesn’t have the time or the patience for relationships. Instead, he has a contact list of hot blondes who meet his needs at any given moment, whether it’s a date to a gallery opening or awards show. Or he just wants to get laid.

Some people would call him shallow. But they’re just envious.

Maggie Flynn has her life mapped out as well. After she graduates from law school she plans to take a job with the Prosecutor’s Office where she interned. But when she attends a job fair and meets Michael Rannigan, her plans change. She’s studied his cases, even heard him speak once. He’s smart and sexy and she can’t resist interviewing with him.

Michael hires Maggie and has her assigned to his elite 50th floor team. He knows smart when he sees it. He also sees the spark in her eyes. She wants him. And having her nearby strokes his ego. It’s not like anything will come of it, she’s so far from his type. But there’s something unsettling about Mary Margaret Flynn, like she can see through his bullshit in a way no one else ever bothered to do.

Maggie realizes that her crush on Michael is all but hopeless. He’s a self-absorbed womanizer. But beneath that cool exterior, she’s seen the man he can be and she’s sure that love can bring that out. In the meantime, she’s content to work with him.

What would happen if they ever crossed that line?

In this teaser from RESISTING RISK, the first book in the Rannigan’s Redemption trilogy, a surprise guest has crashed Maggie’s annual Orphans & Misfits Christmas celebration.

After everyone ate as much as they could, the guys agreed to do all the clean-up. Maggie supervised returning the tables to their proper places then sank onto the sofa, resting her feet on the coffee table.

“What about the dessert, Flynn?” Ben asked when the leftovers were packed up.

“Let’s be informal. Grab some if you want some. I want to do presents,” Maggie said. Michael brought her a fresh glass of wine. She looked up at him, grinning in appreciation, and patted the space beside her.

“I’ll sit on the floor, I don’t mind,” he said, sliding to a spot beside her feet.

“Now the way this works is, everyone takes a number. We go in order starting at 1. Number 1 picks first. Number 2 can pick a new present or steal from Number 1. Everybody got it?” Ben asked. Maggie watched in amusement as some played shyly while others were cut-throat.

“What’s this?” Michael asked quietly. She looked down to see him holding an ornament from the tree. It was a small red glass ball held by a green paper cone. Her name was spelled out in glitter.

“I think I was about six when I made that,” she smiled. “The Christmas ornaments were some of the few things I took from my dad’s house.”

He grinned. “I like it.”

When the gifts were over, Maggie had a new hand-crocheted toilet-roll cover. Michael had a $10 gift card to Starbucks. “Guess somebody didn’t get the memo,” he quipped so that only Maggie heard, and she giggled softly.

He winked and leaned close. “Mags, I should be making my way to the airport.”

“Okay,” Maggie sighed. “I’ll walk you out.” She got her coat and hat while he said his goodbyes. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Casey as they headed out of the apartment. They walked down the stairs without chatting.

Once out on the sidewalk, Michael turned and faced her. “I had a great time, Mags. Thanks for inviting me.” He glanced up. “We have an audience, by the way.” He waved at the crowd gathered in Maggie’s front window.

She looked up at them, scowling. “Come on,” she said, turning right and heading down the sidewalk. She stopped just around the corner.

Michael smiled. “Thanks. I just wanted to say goodbye privately. I brought you a gift but I didn’t want to give it to you in there.” He pulled a small flat box from his pocket. It was light blue, tied with a white ribbon.

Maggie’s eyes widened. “Sean Michael Rannigan, you did not!”

“How did you know the S stands for Sean?

She shrugged. “Everyone knows it’s Sean. I can’t believe you went to Tiffany…” She stopped and looked up at him, smiling sadly. “This wasn’t for me. This is supposed to be for someone else.”

“No, Mags, this is for you,” he said earnestly. “I mean, to be honest, I went there yesterday looking for something for Jana.”

“What, Toys R Us and GapKids were closed?” Maggie quipped.

“Ah-hah-hah, you’re very funny. I found a little trinket to give to Jana, but then I turned and saw this. All I could think was that you should have it. It’s for you, Mags.”

Curious, Maggie slowly pulled the white ribbon and lifted the lid. In the box resting on light blue velvet was a delicate silver bracelet. It had a vintage look to it with large rectangular milky white cabochons alternating with trios of small round diamonds surrounded by platinum filigree. She looked back up at Michael, eyes wide.

“Those are moonstones,” he said proudly. “This was in the vintage case. It was made in 1915.” He gazed at the bracelet. “It’s graceful and classy, just like you.”

“I don’t know what to say, Michael. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Will you help me put it on?”

He lifted the bracelet from the box and as Maggie held out her left hand he fastened it around her wrist. She held it out and watched it catch the natural light. As she did, she noticed a tiny platinum tag hanging from the clasp. Peering closer she saw that it was engraved. To Maggie, From Michael.

“See? I told you it was for you.” She looked back up at him, eyes shining, and as she did, a gust of wind caught some stray hair, blowing it across her face. Michael gently moved the errant strands, tucking them behind her ear. Without planning it at all, he planted a tender kiss on her lips.

He moved back slightly as Maggie looked up at him, eyes shining with desire. He leaned into her again, the kiss this time all heat and passion. She brought her left hand up to cradle his right cheek, her desire matching his. When he stopped kissing her, he pulled her close, tucking her under his chin and they stood like that for a moment.

Finally, he gently set her back from him. She looked up, the sad glint once again in her eyes. After all, he was leaving her to go to someone else. “Merry Christmas, Mags.”

RESISTING RISK, Rannigan’s Redemption Book 1 by Pandora Spocks

RESISTING RISK is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/ResistingRisk