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.

Could she be the baby girl this Daddy Dom’s been waiting for?

Here’s a NSFW teaser from LOST & BOUND.

It was the third night in a row she’d shared a bed with Blake, and for the third night in a row, Shasta’s sleep was blissfully dreamless. Consciousness dawned slowly, and before she opened her eyes, she heard the twitter of birds outside. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the scent of him, all musk and spice and man.

Lifting one eyelid, she grinned happily at the sight of Blake sound asleep on his back with one arm tossed over his head, the other one resting across his belly. His mouth was open, and he snored softly. Peeking beneath the covers, she was delighted to find his cock at the ready, large and erect.

Shasta shifted cautiously, careful not to wake him, until she was able to slide her right leg across him, straddling his waist. Blake stirred, opening his eyes to see her mischievously grinning down at him. “Good morning, Daddy!” she giggled.

His smile was sleepy. “Mmm,” he stretched his arms, then folded them behind his head, “good morning, kitten. What have we here?”

She giggled again. “We have Daddy under my control.” Her eyes sparkled impishly.

Blake chuckled. “Is that so?” She nodded. “So what are you going to do?” He suppressed an indulgent smile.

“You have to do what I say. First of all, no talking.” Shasta watched to see his reaction. At the amused sparkle in his eyes, she continued. “Then, your hands need to be over your head. Pretend like they’re tied to the top of the bed.”

Blake moved his hands, clasping them together and resting them above his head on the pillow. “Like this?”

“Yes, but you’re not supposed to talk.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, only you did it again.”

“Oops!” He winked gleefully.

“Daddy!”

Exaggeratedly, he clamped his lips together and blinked up at her expectantly.

“Now,” she continued, resting her hands on his shoulders, “I’m going to kiss you. But don’t even think about kissing me back.” Her lips curled in an impish smirk.

Blake nodded with mock seriousness, distracted by her breasts swaying enticingly close to his chin. Shasta leaned forward and touched her lips to his, nibbling on his lower lip before invading his mouth with her tongue, seeking and finding his. His moan rumbled up from his chest as his hands made their way down to fondle her delectable mounds.

“Daddy!” she pouted.

“Sorry, kitten, they’re just right there. My hands have a mind of their own.” He grinned mischievously. Shasta leaned over to replace his hands over his head, and he took the opportunity to cover her left nipple with his mouth.

She sat back up and arched an eyebrow. “Somebody wants some stripes.”

Blake just grinned up at her. “What are you going to do with me now?”

Shasta shifted lower, placing his hardness at her entrance. “I’m going to fuck you now.” Slowly, she lowered herself all the way down onto his straining erection.

Again, a moan rolled up from his chest as his eyes closed. “Holy…oh, kitten…”

Pleased with herself, she ground her hips, riding up and down in a slow rhythm, all the while keeping her eyes on his. Leaning forward, she rested her hands on his shoulders once again.

“Okay, enough,” Blake growled, gripping her hips and flipping them so that he was on top. “Kitten wants a morning fuck, be careful what you wish for.”

Shasta’s giggles turned to moans as he plowed into her, hard and fast. The change in angle had him hitting directly on her pleasure spot. “Oh, shit, oh, Blake…” Her moment came hard and fast, and Blake followed closely behind, collapsing to her side in a gasping heap when he’d emptied himself once again.

He pulled Shasta close and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, that was a hell of a good morning.” He lightly kissed her forehead.

LOST & BOUND by Pandora Spocks

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

Weekend Excerpt–HUNTER’S PRIDE

A handsome rancher with a tragic past,
determined to hang on to his inheritance.
A spunky young corporate lawyer
ready to make her mark in the world.
A sinister plot against them both.

Hunter McFall is a fifth-generation Idaho cattle rancher. He’s been approached to sell a small fraction of his land to a big-city real estate developer. Something he has no intention of doing. He’s agreed to hear out the firm’s lawyer, but that’s the end of it. To his surprise, it’s just the beginning.

Red-haired Manhattan business attorney Poppy Chastain is determined to make the most of her first opportunity to show her bosses what she can do. Slade & Howell have sent her to the boondocks of Idaho to convince the hard-headed rancher to part with a tiny plot of his property. She didn’t count on the sizzling attraction between them.

Together, they find a passion they weren’t even looking for. But their love is threatened by a covert scheme to separate Hunter from his land by any means necessary. When he finds out, he’s sure Poppy has played him for a fool. Can she convince him otherwise, that what they’ve found is real?

If you love hot cowboys, sassy redheads, and steamy, romantic happily-ever-afters, you’ll love Hunter’s Pride. It’s the second in the Redheads & Ranchers Series, sort of the middle child, as it were, and it’s one of my personal favorites.

Here’s a steamy little teaser…

The sun was slowly descending behind the mountains, and the vintage-style streetlamps were just beginning to blink on as Poppy and Hunter made their way back to the hotel.

They changed and headed to an upscale steak place on the next block. Over filet mignon and candlelight, they chatted quietly about their visit with Hunter’s grandfather and about their time in town.

After dinner, they returned to the hotel and found a corner table in the lounge. A local band was playing 80s and 90s acoustic covers, and Hunter ordered a Jim Beam neat while Poppy was thrilled to find her favorite Marlborough sauvignon blanc.

As they listened to the music and sipped their drinks, the pair exchanged heated glances. Poppy lightly strummed her fingers across the back of Hunter’s hand as the band launched into a Bryan Adams ballad.

Hunter leaned toward her, his breath tickling her ear and igniting goosebumps all over her body. “Are you ready to head upstairs?”

The flutter in her tummy was back, this time accompanied by a surge of moisture between her thighs. “Let’s go,” she nodded.

As soon as the door to their suite was closed, Hunter pressed Poppy against it, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist. Tangling his fingers in her red locks, he gently pulled her head back, exposing her neck which he nipped from just below her left ear to her collarbone.

She was powerless to stop the low moan that rolled up from her toes.

“I want you,” he hissed in her ear.

“Oh, yeah?” she responded breathlessly. “Then you should take me.”

He pulled her head back again, this time claiming her lips with bruising intensity. At the same time, he reached between the two of them and fondled the soaked space between her thighs.

Poppy gripped his shoulders tightly, gasping as she gave herself over to the sensation he created.

Hunter lightly nipped along her jawline to her ear. His voice was a low growl. “How attached are you to these panties?”

“What panties?” she panted.

He flashed a predatory grin, and his eyes sparkled. “Good answer.”

With a sharp tug, the scraps that had been her underwear floated to the floor. Hunter balanced her against the door as he reached down to his belt and fly. In one fluid motion, he was buried in her core.

Poppy gasped at the sudden intrusion, rocking her head back against the door. Hunter leaned in, pinning her between himself and the door as he pistoned into her, and she felt her moment rising.

“Oh, fu-” she breathed, and her words morphed into a garbled cry as she shattered in his arms.

After another couple of strokes, Hunter stilled deep inside her, grunting his own release. They remained as they were, gasping against the door. Voices from the hallway filtered through the wooden door and Poppy giggled lightly.

“Maybe we’d better take this party to the bedroom,” Hunter winked.

HUNTER’S PRIDE by Pandora Spocks

HUNTER’S PRIDE is available
at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/HuntersPride

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–LUKE & BELLA

They traveled the world looking for excitement.
But love is the ultimate adventure.

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?

LUKE & BELLA is the first book in the Dream Dominant Collection. It’s part travelogue and part erotic romance. Here’s a steamy little teaser.

They explored their way through the Amsterdam evening, shooting video here and there, stopping now and then to check footage or to look into a shop window. As Bella stood peering at the display in the window of an antique shop, Luke watched her, amazed once again at her simple beauty. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. She looked up at him, smiling and stood on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his lips.

“Amsterdam is lovely, m’lady,” he said. “But I’m looking at you and thinking about being back at the hotel.”

She blushed slightly. “What are you thinking about the hotel, Cowboy?” she asked.

“I’m not sure whether or not you noticed,” he said kissing the corner of her mouth, “but there’s a big old tub in the bathroom.”

“Is there?” she asked innocently. “Are you feeling dirty?”

He grinned wickedly. “I’m feeling all kinds of dirty, m’lady.” She giggled softly. “God, I love that!” he growled.

“What?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“I love when you laugh,” he replied.

Bella rolled her eyes, laughing self-consciously.

They made their way back to The Toren, holding hands and talking quietly about nothing in particular. Once back in the suite, Luke smiled and said, “Someone thoughtfully sent a bottle of Scotch.”

Bella bowed theatrically. “That was thoughtful, wasn’t it?” she laughed.

“Would m’lady care for some wine?” he asked, grinning.

“I’d love some wine,” she answered. “How about you call for some and I’ll get the bath started?”

“I knew we made a great team,” he laughed. “Division of labor.”

Bella retreated to the bedroom as he picked up the phone. She started the bathwater, tossing in some of the lavender bath beads, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve candles from her trunk and she placed them around the bathroom, lighting them. Finally, she stripped down and donned her pink satin robe.

When she returned to the sitting room, the steward who brought the wine was just leaving. Luke turned and saw her, letting out a long low breath. “Wow,” he said. He poured a glass of wine for her and one of Scotch for himself. “To a beautiful lady,” he toasted.

She crossed the room and put her arms around his neck. He put down the glasses and pulled her to him, kissing her lips, cupping her breast through the silky fabric.

“Hey, Cowboy,” she breathed into his kiss.

He reached down and untied the sash of her robe, allowing it to hang open, just revealing the inside curve of her breasts, her smooth belly, the V shape of her sex with its light swath of red hair. “Damn, girl, you take my breath away,” he whispered.

She shrugged her shoulders and the robe fell to the floor. “Come on, Cowboy,” she whispered back, turning to walk back to the bedroom.

He carried their drinks as he followed her into the bedroom, appreciating the view of her from behind. She turned and, pulling him to her by the front of his shirt, and kissed him deeply. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and helped him off with it. She stepped back to watch him undo his pants and step out of them. Taking his hand again she led him into the bathroom.

He held on to her as she stepped into the bath and then followed, sitting behind her, leaning against the back of the tub. She sat between his legs and eased back against him, sipping her wine, letting out a long sigh. This was exactly where she wanted to be. She rested her head back on his shoulder.

Luke drank in the feeling of her wrapped in himself, the sensuality of the moment; the warm water, the candlelight, the scent of the bath blending with her fading perfume, her soft skin, the contented smile on her face, the glow of her hair, her breasts, her nipples begging to be kissed.

He kissed her neck, just below the ear and slowly moved his hands down her body, stopping to fondle her breasts, to tug gently on her nipples causing them to harden and stretch. He gently parted her legs, finding her soft sex and softly he caressed her there.

She responded with a low, deep moan, pressing herself against his hand, begging for more pressure. He continued stroking her before sliding in first one finger then two, beginning a slow deliberate circle inside her. Feeling her release building, Bella gasped and moaned again. “Let go, babe. Lose yourself,” he hissed. “Come in my hand.” Orgasm thundered through her body starting in that small secret place and radiating from there as she cried out in release.

She took a moment to catch her breath, and then turned in the tub to face him. She moved onto his lap facing him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and reached down to stroke his erection, kissing him roughly as she did. She felt his gasp in her kiss and she moved closer, raising herself higher before sliding down to sheath him.

He began to move his hips and she matched the rhythm of his movements, clenching him with herself as she moved up and down. A low growl escaped from deep in his chest and he gripped her, holding her firmly in place, burying himself deep inside her. She began to moan as once again she neared climax, crying out as her body shattered with pleasure. He finished with a loud cry, “Unh, God, baby…” Afterward, he held her tightly, gently stroking her back, kissing her forehead.

Later, after they’d toweled off and slipped into bed, Luke watched as she fell asleep in his arms. He thought about the first time he saw her, red curls all sunlit, and he smiled as he remembered her nervous introduction. “I’m Bella. Isabella. Just Bella,” she’d stammered.

“I love you, Bella, Isabella,” he whispered. In her sleep, Bella smiled. He watched her until dreams overtook him.

LUKE & BELLA by Pandora Spocks

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

Weekend Excerpt–ANNA’S HEART

She’s a rancher with a heartbreaking secret.
He’s Hollywood royalty,
poised to take a chance that risks his reputation and his career.
Now that they’ve found each other, can he win her heart?

Anna Graves works hard helping to run her family’s Wyoming dude ranch. Still reeling from the tragic loss of her smokejumper fiancé in a horrific wildfire, she is content to hide from the world as she teaches horseback riding lessons to tourists by day and reads smutty romance novels by night.

When world-famous Scottish actor Angus McGregor needs to brush up his cowboy skills in preparation for his starring role in a new Western, he heads to Sweetwater Ranch in the boondocks of Wyoming. He is immediately fascinated by Anna, who won’t give him the time of day. Can he break down the self-protective wall she has built?

If you like hot cowboys, Scottish accents, and happily-ever-afters, you’ll love ANNA’S HEART, the third book in the Redheads & Ranchers series!

In this teaser, Anna meets Angus for the first time.

After lunch, Anna led her first beginners’ riding class of the new session. This time around, she had six eager young riders between the ages of five and twelve, and for two hours, she led them through their paces. By the end of the following week, each student would be able to groom and saddle his or her own horse, and they’d be competent enough to participate in the overnight trail ride and camp-out with their families.

When her riding class was over, Andy helped her untack her horses, and they worked together to feed and water the entire stable of fifteen equines.

“Guess that actor guy isn’t coming,” he commented as he and Anna left the barn and headed for the lodge.

Anna shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Simone was really looking forward to meeting him.”

“Maybe you should be relieved,” she grinned at her brother wryly. “Sounds like she might decide to just ride off with Angus McGregor.”

Andy held up his hands in mock surrender. “I just want to keep the pregnant lady happy.”

“Hang in there, not much longer now,” Anna observed. “Just a few more weeks.”

When they entered the lodge, several of Anna’s new students ran to greet her.

“Anna! Anna! This is my mom and dad!” cried the youngest of her students, a tiny towhead blonde named Ariel.

Anna grinned broadly. “Hi, Mom and Dad. It’s nice to formally meet you.”

The mother smiled. “She can’t stop talking about riding Rocket.”

“We named him Rocket kind of ironically. He’s really slow,” Anna laughed, thinking affectionately of the old bay.

“Well, Ariel had a good time. We’re excited about the camp-out at the end of next week,” the father said.

Anna nodded. “That’s usually the highlight of everybody’s stay.”

Across the room, Vanessa waved to Anna. “If you’ll excuse me,” she offered before heading off to find out what her mother wanted.

“A flyer came in the mail today. Founders’ Day is next week.”

Anna frowned slightly at the brightly colored page her mother thrust into her hands. The bulk of the page was a vintage photo of Main Street in Crystal Springs, overlayed with jaunty graphics declaring the annual Crystal Springs Founders’ Day celebration.

Back in the late 1860s, the nearby town of Crystal Springs had sprung up practically overnight as a mining boomtown. The coal vein had played out by the middle of the following century, but the small town was proud of its heritage. Each summer, they celebrated what they thought of as Founders’ Day with a parade down Main Street followed by a giant picnic, and capping off the evening with a family-friendly town dance.

There was a time when Anna looked forward to the annual event. Now, she scowled at the announcement.

“I’d like that put on the bulletin board on the front porch,” Vanessa said. “I’ll mention it at dinner, but I want to make sure all the guests know they’re invited to attend.”

Anna nodded and headed toward the front door.

“And Anna?” her mother called after her.

She stopped and turned around.

“I expect you to go this year.” Vanessa arched an eyebrow, daring her daughter to argue.

Anna stalked back to the reception desk. “I don’t want to go. Why do you insist that I go?”

“Because it’s time you started getting out, meeting people.”

Swallowing her rising irritation, Anna gritted her teeth. “I meet people.” She waved toward the guests wandering through the lodge’s lobby. “They’re all people.”

“You know what I mean.”

Huffing in frustration, Anna turned on her heel and headed back toward the door.

“You will go. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

Wordlessly and without turning around, Anna waved the flyer in the air and marched out the door. Opening the glass front of the bulletin board, she silently fumed at her mother.

For fuck’s sake! I’m twenty-fucking-six years old! I don’t need to be told what to do and how to do it, where to go and when. I make my own decisions. Besides, there are always things that need to be done around the ranch. Everyone can’t go gallivanting into town. Somebody has to stay back and hold down the fort.

Part of her told her she was making way too much out of her mother’s request that she attend the celebration in town. But the rest of her was in no mood to be reasonable. She tacked up the flyer and closed the protective glass door, deciding she’d go remind her mother about the need for someone to stay behind during the festivities.

She turned abruptly and ran headlong into something solid. The next thing she knew, she and a tall red-haired man landed in a tangled heap on the front lawn.

“Oof,” he managed as he lay gasping for air.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you standing there.” Anna scrambled to her feet and reached down to help the man stand.

Slowly, he allowed her to pull him up. Green-tinted Rayban aviators askew and a pair of bags strewn on the grass, he coughed slightly as he straightened to his full height.

Anna figured he had to be well over six feet tall, maybe as much as six and a half feet, judging by the way he towered over her five-foot-four frame.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

He nodded, reaching to straighten his sunglasses and run his fingers through his red hair. “Aye, had the wind knocked out of me is all. And that’s a fine welcome, I must say,” he replied in a thick Scottish brogue.

Feeling her cheeks color, Anna reached to brush the dirt off the man’s sleeve. “I’m really sorry! It was totally my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Aye, you should have,” he grinned wryly, “but then I’d have missed being tackled by a bonnie lass such as yourself. Do you play rugby, perchance?” His laugh was hearty, almost infectious.

Mortified, Anna started to gather up his belongings, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “I’ve got my bags, thanks.” He hoisted a large leather duffel bag onto his broad left shoulder and picked up a matching suitcase. “I have a reservation for McGregor. Do I check in here?”

“Um, yes,” Anna nodded. “Just this way.” Still blushing, she led the way up the front steps and into the lobby. With a pair of tortoiseshell-framed readers perched on the bridge of her nose, Vanessa Graves stood at the check-in desk efficiently tapping something on a keyboard. When she looked up and saw her daughter with their new guest, she smiled brightly.

“Mr. McGregor is checking in,” Anna said meekly, wishing she could melt through the floorboards.

“I’d be happy if you’d just call me Angus,” he said quickly.

“I’m Vanessa Graves. Welcome to Sweetwater Ranch, Mr. M–Angus,” Vanessa greeted him. “We’re happy to have you here.”

“I’m happy to be here. You have a lovely ranch, from what I’ve seen so far.” He glanced Anna’s way and she blushed furiously.

Mrs. Graves turned and retrieved a brass key from an old-fashioned wooden key rack behind the front desk. “Here you are. Cabin 6. Anna will take you there.”

She handed him the key and smiled cordially. “You’ll find a folder in your cabin with this week’s schedule. Once you settle in, I hope you take the opportunity to explore the ranch. And dinner is here in the dining room at 6:00.”

While Anna silently shot daggers at her mother, Angus’s full-wattage grin was charming. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Graves.”

He turned and looked at Anna expectantly.

“Oh, um, right this way.” She turned, shooting one last glare at her mother, and led their new guest back outside.

ANNA’S HEART by Pandora Spocks

ANNA’S HEART is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/AnnasHeart

Weekend Excerpt–BROKEN HARTS

BROKEN HARTS is now LIVE at your favorite online bookseller!

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.

But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink tulle bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

*****
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

If you love your romance with a little heat and plenty of heart, you’re going to love Broken Harts!

Here’s a brand-new snippet from BROKEN HARTS.

Taking Logan’s hand, Ali led him back to the den where their drinks waited. They settled on the sofa, and Ali used the remote to click on the television. It was tuned to a nature documentary, and she turned the sound all the way down.

Logan handed her a mug and picked up the other one for himself. “Cheers,” he smiled, and they clinked glasses.

Ali closed her eyes as the hot, fragrant liquid rolled down her throat. The spices tickled her tongue while the whiskey warmed her chest. With another sip, the chill of the evening and the panic she had felt began to slip away.

“This is delicious.” Logan gestured with his mug and took another sip.

“It’s the best, especially on such a cold, nasty day,” Ali agreed. “I don’t have much need for a hot toddy in Florida, although sometimes we do get a cold snap in winter.”

Logan pressed his lips together as though suppressing a grin. “How cold does it get?”

“On a really cold day, it can get all the way down into the forties.” She shivered at the memory.

Logan laughed out loud. “Oh, the horror, how can you stand it?”

“Well, for there, it’s frigid,” Ali defended sheepishly. “It usually comes with a biting wind that goes right through you.”

He arched an eyebrow mischievously. “You realize, of course, that I’m from the Windy City, right?”

They both laughed softly. Then Ali sighed.

“Yeah. You were supposed to be back in the Windy City right now.”

Logan shrugged lightly. “Ah, well, things happen. It’s all good.”

“Were you supposed to be back for a reason? You said that this was just a quick trip.”

He waved vaguely. “There was a charity thing I was planning to attend. But again, there was no way I would leave you to deal with your dad lost out there in the cold. No way.” He shook his head definitively.

“So now what?” Ali asked with a soft sigh.

“I don’t know. I suppose that once my clothes are dry, I’ll go to a hotel. I found a flight that leaves first thing in the morning.”

Debating with herself, Ali chewed her lower lip in thought. She sipped her drink for some liquid courage and looked up at Logan. “You could stay here.” She watched to see his reaction.

He blinked slowly as if deliberating this new idea.

“We have a guest room, of course,” Ali added quickly. “But I wondered if you’d want to stay with me.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could bite them back.

“I mean, if you want to. But a hotel is always nice. Or whatever. Just…” Mentally, Ali cursed the blush that heated her face.

Logan pursed his lips and tilted his head slightly. “Did you know that when you blush, your freckles kind of stand out?”

Embarrassed, Ali fidgeted with her glass and looked away.

“And did you know,” he murmured as he leaned closer, “that you’re stunning?”

Reluctantly, Ali looked back up at him.

“Ali Hart, are you inviting me to spend the night with you?” He arched an eyebrow, and mischief sparkled in his blue eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his response, Ali suppressed a smile. “Well, you know, you’re a pretty great kisser. Now I’m wondering what else you’re good at.”

*****

In the still of pre-dawn, Logan gazed up at the ceiling of Ali’s bedroom and sighed contentedly. Her head rested on his shoulder as his right arm cradled her. His left arm curled beneath his head on the pillow.

At the sound of her steady breathing, he smiled. When he’d invited her to lunch, he’d had no thought of ending up in her bed.

He shifted his lips thoughtfully. Well, to say no thought wasn’t entirely accurate. He’d allowed the occasional notion or two to blossom into full-blown fantasy, fodder for a private jerk-off session in the shower here and there. And there had been a stray thought or three when she’d shucked her coat at the restaurant earlier in the day, that form-fitting sweater dress clinging to every curve most deliciously. His cock had certainly taken notice.

He allowed himself a silent whistle.

Still, he would never have broached the subject. Not on a day like today, with the drama of her father being lost. It would have felt manipulative, somehow.

But it had been Ali who had brought it up, Ali with that heated gleam in her soulful brown eyes, and he’d been helpless to respond in any other way than he had.

There on the sofa in the den, they had made out like two starving souls, each practically clawing at the other, lips desperately seeking and finding, until Logan thought he’d explode right there. With a knowing smile, Ali had stood up and taken his hand, leading him to her bedroom, where she shut and locked the door behind them.

In the privacy afforded in her room, Logan had shed all pretense of self-control, hurriedly tugging first at her clothes and then his own until they stumbled toward the bed in a tangle of discarded garments. He scarcely waited for her to retrieve a condom from her bedside table before he plunged himself into her.

He closed his eyes and replayed the moment in his mind, relishing her gasp in his ear as he took her that first time. He hadn’t lasted long. He had known he wouldn’t. It had been a long time.

Catherine usually couldn’t be bothered, and when she acquiesced, he usually ended up feeling like he’d had to talk her into having sex with him. Which was why he hadn’t bothered in months, preferring his own hand and a vibrant fantasy life.

That first time on the bed had been followed up in the shower, where he and Ali had adjourned to clean up. The memory of her perky tits, water dripping from her luscious, imminently suckable nipples, her water-slick, shapely ass… Softly, he whistled again as his cock stiffened at the memory of taking her a second time against the marble wall of the shower.

The third time had been different, much slower and more sensual as he’d gradually brought her to climax twice, each time with Ali whimpering softly as she attempted to stifle her orgasm.

Note to self, he thought. Next time, we go to a hotel. The thought pleased him. He wanted to hear Ali’s pleasure unfettered by the presence of other people in the house.

Next time.

Pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, his thoughts strayed back to when they had first arrived at the Hart’s apartment. Taking care of Ali’s father had involved a flurry of activity. Logan had stayed in the background as much as possible, grateful when Mrs. Smith offered him warm, dry clothes in place of the damp, clammy ones he had worn in the snow. While changing in the hallway bathroom, he had taken the opportunity to call Catherine to apprise her of his missed flight.

She had taken it as he’d known she would, anger reducing her conversation to short, clipped responses. No doubt there would be hell to pay when he returned home.

Of another thing, there was no doubt, as well. Logan couldn’t marry Catherine. He didn’t love her; it was as simple as that.

Honoring their hair-brained pledge had been a bad idea from the get-go, but at that low point in his love life, it had seemed like a reasonable consolation.

A hell of a reason to get married, he chided himself.

Ali shifted slightly, sighing softly in her sleep. Logan gazed down at her and held her closely, appreciating the sense of warmth that flooded his soul.

No, he couldn’t marry Catherine. He didn’t love her. He loved Ali. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. And if he were honest, he’d known it since he’d first seen her in the subway station. He was utterly in love with Ali Hart.

The only thing to do was to call off the engagement. Logan resolved to do it as soon as he got home.

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

BROKEN HARTS is available at your favorite online bookseller.
For a limited time, you can still take advantage of
the 99¢ special price.
books2read.com/BrokenHarts

Weekend Excerpt–FOR SPARROW

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

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 the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection. Here’s a steamy snippet.

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 by Pandora Spocks

Award-winning FOR SPARROW is available
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Weekend Excerpt–BROKEN HARTS

Two weddings.
One Valentine’s Day.
And hearts will be broken.

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.

But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink chiffon bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

***
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

Read a snippet from BROKEN HARTS.

The elevator deposited Ali on the 4th floor of the 12-story 1920s brick apartment building. She made her way down the hallway to the door of 4D, the place she had always considered her home.

Using her old brass key, she let herself inside and headed through the foyer toward the living room. “Dad? I’m home,” she called softly, hoping not to disturb her father in case he happened to be napping.

His live-in housekeeper met her in the living room. “Good afternoon, Miss Alison. Your father is in his study. He’s been a bit…unfocused today,” Mrs. Smith related in her crisp British accent. 

Mrs. Smith had been a fixture in the Hart home since Ali could recall. When Jackson and Michelle had divorced during Ali’s junior year in high school, Mrs. Smith had been a steadying presence.

Ali frowned, trying to decipher the woman’s polite description. The sound of papers shuffling and a deep unintelligible muttering drew Ali’s attention toward Jackson’s office down the hallway.

She smiled reassuringly at Mrs. Smith. “Thanks! I’ll go see what’s going on.” She was positive she saw relief in the older woman’s eyes.

“Dad?” she called as she walked down the hall. She popped her head in the doorway of her father’s small office. 

Backlit by the window behind him, he stood in the center of the room clutching a sheaf of papers in each hand. His shaggy gun-metal grey hair stuck out wildly in all directions, giving him the air of a deranged madman. He was also naked from the waist down.

“Aw, geez, Dad, you have to wear pants. Seriously, now, Mrs. Smith is going to quit if you keep doing this.”

“I can’t find it,” he said urgently. “I can’t find it anywhere. Someone broke in and stole my manuscript.”

“Let’s go get you dressed and I’ll help you find what you’re looking for,” Ali said patiently.

**

“I’m really sorry about Dad,” Ali apologized. “I had no idea things had gotten so bad.”

Following a dinner of Mrs. Smith’s famous pot roast and roasted green beans, Jackson had wandered into the den to watch the news on cable. Ali insisted on helping the housekeeper clean up in the kitchen.

“You know I consider you and your father family,” Mrs. Smith smiled kindly. “It’s just that I’m not as young as I used to be. I worry that I won’t be able to keep Mr. Hart safe.”

Ali shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault that he got lost that time.” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “I know Brendan and Megan probably told you that it was.”

The elderly housekeeper gave something of a Mona Lisa smile and said nothing.

“It’s not your job to keep him from leaving the apartment.” Ali sighed deeply. “I looked at that care home today. It was really awful.”

She frowned sharply. “Well, it wasn’t awful, exactly, it just…wasn’t for Dad. He’s so independent. I’m thinking of seeing if we can’t hire a full-time nurse-slash-companion for him, someone who’ll stick with him and keep an eye on him. That way he can keep his independence and still be safe.”

Mrs. Smith’s eyes twinkled with kindness. “You’re a good daughter,” she said simply. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

When they’d finished with the kitchen, Ali bid the housekeeper goodnight and joined her father in the den. Together they watched a documentary until the old man began to nod off in his chair.

“Come on, Dad, let’s get you to bed,” Ali said softly.

She helped him change into a pair of plaid flannel pajamas and waited while he performed his bathroom tasks. Then she tucked him into bed.

“Goodnight, Dad,” she murmured, kissing his scruffy cheek.

“Goodnight, Ali-gally,” he returned, invoking his favorite nickname for her. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me, too,” she smiled, giving him another kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

After a quick shower, Ali found herself comfortably ensconced in her own bed, staring up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom as light and shadows from the city street outside formed familiar shapes. The day had been so hectic that she hadn’t had time to consider the man she’d met when she’d gotten off at the wrong subway stop. 

Well, met? That might be a strong word, she decided. They hadn’t exactly exchanged names. They had barely exchanged words. And yet…

She linked her fingers together and cradled her head as she sighed deeply. And yet, the man’s image was burned into her brain. In her imagination, she watched him materialize. First were those sea-blue eyes, alight with life and soul and passion. Or did she just imbue him with those qualities in the absence of actual knowledge?

Next came those utterly kissable lips, quirked in a lopsided sort of way as though he were privy to a joke no one else had yet heard.

In her mind’s eye, his square jaw formed, defined by dark stubble that made her want to cup his cheek. The stubble matched his dark wavy hair that seemed slightly mussed on purpose, as though he might be due a haircut any day now.

In her bed on Park Avenue, Ali closed her eyes and heard his voice in her imagination. 

“Can we…”

Ali’s eyes popped open. Can we what? She pursed her lips in thought. 

Can we share a cab downtown? Run off together to Rome? Drop right here and do it doggy style?

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, feeling herself blush. Again, she cursed herself for being in such an all-fired hurry to leave. 

It had been on impulse that she’d flattened her palm on the inside of the subway window. And he’d followed suit on the outside. He’d been as intrigued as she’d been.

She mulled the idea for a moment, then shook her head. Because ultimately, what difference did that make? She didn’t know his name, where he lived, whether he was single or married…

There was one thing she did know. She wanted to know more about him.

Sighing again, she shifted onto her side and willed herself to meet him in her dreams.

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

BROKEN HARTS is a part of the Forever Yours Valentine’s Day Collection.
Also included in this collection:
* Bella’s Wish by International Bestselling Author Linzi Basset
* All’s Fair in Love and Spells by Victoria Escobar
*My Italian Valentine by the USA Today & International Bestselling Author Diana Nixon

Reserve your copy of BROKEN HARTS for just 99¢!
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