Snippet Saturday: You are Always on My Mind

Today's Theme is You are Always on My Mind. I had to laugh because I knew exactly which story I should post! This isn't the woman always on the man's mind snippet, this is a witch cursed to live in the body and mind of another woman. Her host is always on her mind! It's a wonderfully sexy and heartbreaking short story, should you choose to read the rest of it.

 

Witch's Curse

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Blurb
As punishment for using magic unwisely, Catherine Wein, ex-witch and totally cursed, is doomed to spend each year in a different woman's life. It's New Year's Eve and at the stroke of midnight she'll make the switch to another host's life. Catherine's determined to grab for as much happiness as she can with her remaining hours in Kindra Merlot's body. Enter sexy cop, Sam Cade. 

Dumped by his girlfriend right after Christmas, Sam isn't in the mood to celebrate until he sees the willowy beauty, Kindra. Her sensuality and sexual aggressiveness revives his lagging spirits. Is she the one for him or is she another lying, cheating woman like his ex? Will he have more than tonight to find out?
Excerpt

“Don’t forget to check on her every day. She needs people, even if she says she doesn’t. Trust me on this.” Catherine moved through the eighteenth-floor studio apartment in the Hell’s Kitchen district of New York City, straightening paintings, fluffing the bright pillows she’d added to the couch and watering the plants she’d grown from clippings off Dolly’s huge collection of houseplants and herbs. Basically, she was delaying her descent to the building lobby for the annual tenants’ New Year’s Eve party.

I don’t need a babysitter. Kindra’s thought made her jump. So often lately, Kindra remained silent, preferring Catherine to handle everything in their shared existence.

“I’ll check on her.” Dolly stood by the door, a determined smile on her freckled face, although tears welled in her bright green eyes. “I can’t believe you won’t be here after tonight. I mean you will, but you won’t. Ah hell. I’ll miss you.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t get all mushy, so don’t go there.” Catherine spun away, refusing to give in to tears. Instead, she marched into the kitchen and yanked the refrigerator door open, snatching the bottle of Merlot from the sparkling clean shelves lined with healthy foods. All the groceries and cheerful decorations throughout the apartment would be her only legacy to Kindra to encourage her to maintain the healthy body Catherine had worked so hard to establish over the past year.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since I met you.” Dolly took the bottle from Catherine and tucked it under her arm. “I still have a vivid memory of Kindra standing on the ledge outside that window as the clock struck midnight.” She nodded toward the tall window overlooking the bright lights of New York City. “If you hadn’t landed in her body at that exact minute, she’d be dead.”

You should have let me go. I only wanted peace.

“Peace my Aunt Fanny. You were sacrificing a perfectly good life and a boatload of talent. Think of all you’ve accomplished this year.”

I didn’t do it. You did. You’re the strong one.

“And you’re the one with all the talent. I can’t paint my way out of a shoebox.”

It’s not enough.

Dolly’s brows rose into the burnished copper curls brushing across her forehead. “You’re doing it again.”

Catherine’s gaze moved to Dolly and she took a moment to remember Dolly was physically the only other person in the room. “Sorry. Kindra and I were having a little discussion about talent and wasting it.”

Dolly stared at the paintings covering every free space on the walls of the apartment and some standing against the walls. “These are so beautiful. Why doesn’t she put them in a gallery and sell them?”

No! They’re not good enough!

“Kindra thinks they aren’t good enough.” Catherine shook her head. “Tell her, Dolly.”

“I’m glad I know about your little secret, otherwise I’d think you had that multiple personality disorder.” Dolly stared straight at Catherine and plunked her fist on one hip. “Kindra, get over it. These paintings are so stunning and full of emotion, they bring me to tears. The galleries will go wild over them. I have a buddy who works at a gallery down the street. I bet I can get them in there.”

Catherine shook with the force of Kindra’s fear. “Okay, okay. So you won’t take the paintings to the gallery. It’s okay. Dolly won’t make you do it.” She shrugged at Dolly. “You can’t force her.”

Dolly fingered the silver pentacle amulet around her neck, the sign of Wicca. “How do you do that? How can you stand to have two people in one mind?”

“I’m the guest. Kindra owns the body and soul. At midnight, I move on and Kindra is on her own again.” Though her words were flat and matter-of-fact, the closer she’d gotten to the midnight deadline, the more worried she’d been about Kindra. Could the young artist manage on her own? Would she try to commit suicide again?

“I think I would go nuts moving from body to body every year. How disconcerting to wake up in someone else’s life. You must have really pissed off the powers that be.”

Catherine’s jaw tightened. “Just heed my warning. Don’t use your powers for selfish reasons. Follow the Threefold Law to the letter.”

Dolly snorted. “Like I have powers.”

“We each have powers within us, we only have to learn to tap into them.”

“I’m only a play witch, you’re the real deal.”

“Was.” Ninety-nine years ago, she’d broken the Threefold Law of Wicca and used her magical powers to come between a man she thought she loved and the woman he truly loved. The cost for breaking the law was losing her powers and being cursed. And the curse couldn’t have been a simple wart on her nose. No. The Witches Council had to come up with something more elaborate and fitting the crime.

They cursed her to an endless existence of living each year in a different woman’s life. New Year’s Eve a hundred years ago, when the clock struck twelve, her body died and her soul drifted into the body of another woman. For an entire year, she lived in that woman’s life, in that woman’s body, sharing all her hopes, fears, trials and desires. At midnight on New Year’s Eve, she moved to another and so it had been for ninety-nine years.

As midnight approached, Catherine knew her time in this body had reached an end. Kindra Marshall, her current host, wouldn’t remember her when she’d gone, but she’d remember everything else from the past year and hopefully continue on where Catherine had left off.

From the moment she’d leaped into Kindra’s body, Catherine knew she could help the woman. First thing was to get her down off the ledge and back on track in her life.
Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
http://shilohwalker.com/website
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels
Mari Carr

Snippet Saturday - Woman to love

This Snippet is geared toward the hero's first glimpse of the heroine. I chose SEX ED since it gives the hero his first "grownup" glimpse of the heroine. She's no longer his best buddy's little sister. Enjoy!

 If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of one of my Ugly Stick Saloon books!

SEX ED 

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She wanted lessons in how to make a cowboy hot...
He was the cowboy to teach her

 

Kendall has loved sexy cowboy Ed Johnson since the first time she saw him taming wild horses. Now Kendall is twenty-one, legal and ready to be more than friends. In her bid to win his affections she asks Ed to give her a few Sex Education lessons about what makes a cowboy hot.

Ed promised Kendall's brother he'd keep an eye on his little sister while he's away defending their country. But Ed's pretty darn certain Sex Education lessons aren't what big brother had in mind. Caught between his pledge and a recently matured little sex kitten, Ed struggles to keep his word, while giving Kendall what she wants, Sex Ed.

EXCERPT

As he turned onto the street where the old Ross house stood, a convertible backed out of the driveway he shared with the other two occupants. A muscular, bare-chested young man smiled and waved as he passed by with the top down, his long, bright blond hair blowing in the breeze.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and a frown settled between Ed’s brows. Who the hell was that leaving the house he shared with Kendall and Lacey? Better be one of Lacey’s conquests. She was old enough to manage her own affairs. Kendall, on the other hand, had barely been twenty-one for a few weeks. She’d better not be messing around on Ed’s watch.

As he shifted into park, he glanced up at the window to Kendall’s apartment. The blinds were open and Kendall stood with her side to the window, wearing nothing but a thin, lace bra and thong panties. She turned her back to the window and unclipped the bra, letting it fall down over her arms to the floor.

She might as well be naked—the thin strap of the thong cutting a line between her butt cheeks hid nothing.
Ed moaned, his cock twitched, and blood rushed in to make it swell behind his zipper. He forced anger to follow the powerful rush of lust. Did the girl have so little sense as to leave her window wide open so that any peeping Tom could look in?

With the storm of lust and righteous anger driving him forward, Ed leaped out of the car, passed the door to his apartment on the first floor and took the steps two at a time to the upper apartment where Kendall lived. He hammered on the door until Kendall flung it open.

"Oh, Ed." She cupped her hands over her naked breasts, like that did anything to hide their beautiful, lush fullness from Ed’s vision. "Where’s the fire?"

Ed pushed past her and marched to the window on the other side of the apartment, yanking the string on the shade so hard, the shade popped out of its slot and clattered to the floor.

Kendall giggled behind him, her eyes going wide when Ed glared.

He gathered the shade from the floor, fit the ends into the slot and lowered it with more precision and care this time. When he was done, he faced Kendall, and breathed a sigh to find her clutching a shirt to her chest. "Don’t undress in front of the window. I thought your mother taught you better than that."

"There’s not anyone on this street who’d care but Old Man Frantzen." She tossed her hair. "I’m sure he’s so blind he couldn’t see that far anyway."

Ed jerked his thumb toward the window. "You never know what perverts are lurking out there looking for an eyeful. And honey, you were giving an eyeful and then some."

Her eyelids closed to half-mast and she sidled close. "Perverts? Hum…sounds interesting." Slim fingers climbed up his chest and the shirt she held slipped lower, letting one perky nipple peek through.

Ed reached out and lifted the shirt to cover her flesh, realizing his mistake as soon as the backs of his fingers brushed over her naked skin. Stifling a groan, he jumped back. "Just close the blinds before you strip, will ya?"
"Yes, sir!" Kendall popped a salute.

That pesky shirt slipped down again to expose the other pretty breast.

A moan escaped Ed's throat and he dove for the door.

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
http://shilohwalker.com/website
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Felicity Heaton
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels

Snippet Saturday - Her Man

Tomb Raider Trouble:
Trouble with Harry

Amazon Kindle
Barnes and Noble's Nook

Blurb

In 1924, Harry, and adventurous archeologist, uncovers his greatest find--the tomb of the daughter of Shah Azhi "the devil king", containing the magical stone of Azhi. Legend tells of the stone's great power to grant wishes. When Harry lays his hands on the prize, he's sucked into a bottle to sleep for over eighty years.

In the twenty-first century, lonely museum worker, Edie Ragsdale, has been tasked with cataloguing the contents of a sarcophagus. Among the mummified remains of a long-dead princess. Edie finds a bottle. When she grushes away the duts of a thousand years, a naked Harry appears out of thin air. Because she was the one to wake Harry from his long sleep, Edie is able to wish for anything her heart desires and Harry has to grant it! Only her wishes don't always turn out as she plans and Harry can't control all the outcomes. Come along for a rollicking rom and learn that wishes don't always come true, and maybe that's a good thing!

Excerpt

Edie trudged through the aisles of crates and cartons carefully stacked on shelves and racks in the warehouse. When she reached the overhead doors at the rear of the museum where delivery trucks deposited new arrivals, she found the box marked “Zagros Dig, Iraq”.

“This must be it.” Pulling a crowbar off the wall, she began the laborious task of stripping the wooden slats from the crate. She’d do as much as she could by herself before she asked for help. She didn’t like to ask anyone for help, because that would mean actually making conversation with someone besides her boss. A shiver ran down her spine and her stomach burbled.

In her imagination, she was strong, fearless and desirable, capable of speaking to huge gatherings of people without a problem.

But reality had a way of showing her for her true self—doormat, Edie Ragsdale. Scared of her shadow, dowdy as a dishrag, Ms. Ragsdale. Destined to be alone.

Edie sighed. She couldn’t change who she was, and why should she? She’d still work in this musty old museum, she’d still live alone. Who could possibly find her interesting?

When the boards were cleared away, the carved stone sarcophagus stood in solitary dignity, out of place in the modern cardboard and foam-peanut world of the warehouse.

Edie wondered who this person was to have such an intricately carved casket. The likeness on top indicated a female. Etched over her head was the shape of a two-headed dragon, its body tangled over the woman’s head as if protecting or imprisoning her.

Was she a great queen of some legendary kingdom? Or had she been the wife of a cruel ruler, who beat her to death for some imagined infraction. Perhaps she was the lover of a man who’d worshiped the ground she walked on.

Whoever she was, Edie suddenly couldn’t wait to get the lid off and see what, if anything, was inside. She ran to find Ernie, the janitor.

“Don’t know why ya gotta open old smelly caskets,” Ernie mumbled. “Some things are best left in the ground where they belong.” Within minutes, Ernie had the lid off and carefully placed to the side of the sarcophagus. As quickly as he’d come, he left, muttering something about cleaning toilets in another part of the vast museum.

The mummified remains of the woman smelled like dust and old bones. Edie had seen her share of mummies, each telling a story of its own. Tucked next to the mummy’s feet was a bottle, coated in the dust of perhaps thousands of years.

Curious, Edie carefully lifted the bottle and rubbed the sides with the soft cloth she kept tucked in her pocket.

The floor shimmied and thunder rumbled outside.

Edie set the bottle back in the sarcophagus and strode to the dingy window. Was it going to rain? She hadn’t brought an umbrella and she’d be walking home soon. Damn.Why didn’t I bring an umbrella?

What little bit of sky she could see between the buildings looked as it had that morning, although the gloom of dusk cast long shadows into the alley. No clouds skittered by, no hint of rain. Then why had she heard thunder? Maybe it was a garbage truck dropping a dumpster onto the pavement. Sometimes they made enough noise she’d mistake it for thunder.

No matter. The skies were clear and, as soon as she cataloged the items, she could go home. With a shrug, she turned back to her work only to stop dead in her tracks.

A tall, naked man stood next to the ancient coffin, stretching as if he’d just woken from a long sleep.

Edie gasped, the only sound in an otherwise silent cavern. This man very much resembled the pirate in her daydream. Dark-haired, suntanned. Her heart skittered erratically, her pulse banging against her throat. He was naked. Totally naked. Her gaze skimmed—okay, slowly perused—from the top of his shiny black hair and over his angular face, continuing downward. She panned the wide expanse of his smooth brown chest tapering to narrow hips. Nestled in the dark shadow of curly hair, his penis hung flaccid, but still most impressive.

Ohmigod! Edie’s face heated. She’d been staring at his privates. She’d never stared at a man’s privates before. What would he think? Then again, what was a naked man doing in her warehouse? Perhaps he was crazy. Maybe he was a sexually perverted lunatic out to deflower lonely virgins. Edie sank to the floor and gathered up a loose slat from the crate she’d dismembered.

If he was going to rape her, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She stood, her hand gripping the splintered wood. “Who are you and what do you want?”

The man rubbed his eyes and blinked, before he straightened and looked directly at her. “Who are you? And where the hell am I?”

The woman standing before him brandished a wooden slat in his face. “I asked first.”

Harry stepped back and, for the first time, realized he was completely naked. “Holy Jesus.” He leaned over to grab a board but the sharp corner of a board poked his chest. Reflexively, he crossed his hands over his groin.

“Don’t move, or I’ll scream.” The woman poked him again. “What are you doing here? And more importantly, why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

“Look, lady. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I do not have designs on your person.” He reached to push the point off his ribs, baring his groin, again. “If you’d quit jabbing me with that stick, I’ll cover myself.”

Edie tried really hard to keep her gaze above his shoulders, but some things were just too noticeable to be ignored from the corner of her eye. “Oh.” Her cheeks burned and she stepped back. “Yes, of course.”

He leaned down again to reach for a board.

“Not with that!” The sharp edge caught him in the throat this time, puncturing the skin. Warm liquid oozed down his neck.

He straightened, his hands rising to rest on his hips. “How am I supposed to cover myself with you trying to stab holes in me?”

 “Here, use this.” She struggled with one hand to untie the strap around her neck and waist while maintaining her grip on the board. Then she tossed her canvas apron at him.

Harry deftly caught the apron in a single hand and held it like a fig leaf over the lower half of his torso. Had he drunk himself into a stupor last night? And where was he? Obviously, not in the desert. And why was this woman waving a stick at him. Had his performance in bed been that dismal?

“Go ahead, put it on,” she said, her face flaming, her voice shaking like dry leaves rattling in the wind.

“A lady would look away while a man dressed himself,” he grumbled.

“Look, buster, I’m not turning away for a second, so don’t even think about jumping me.” Her words sounded tough but her hand shook.

She was scared of him.

Come to think of it, a naked man in the presence of a woman would be cause for alarm in anyone’s book—unless, of course, they’d already shared a passionate night together. Although by the look on her face, that probably wasn’t the case. “All right, but could you at least look at my face, instead of staring at my—” He cleared his throat and glanced down. Damned if he wasn’t hardening. Good Lord, and the woman wasn’t his usual long-stemmed blonde beauty.

Will would have a good laugh over his reaction.

Will. A lead weight settled in Harry’s gut. Where was his friend? Had he ended up in as peculiar a situation as he had? Or was he still back at the tomb, possibly buried in the sand?

Feeling downright silly, Harry tied the apron around his waist, creating a distinctive tent in front while cool air continued to brush his naked backside. “Perhaps we could start over. I’m Harrington Taylor from America. I don’t really know what I’m doing here. And you are?”

“Not buying it.”

“Excuse me?” What the hell did she think he was selling? “I’m not selling anything, if that’s what’s got you worried.”

“I may not be very worldly, but I know a con when I see it.” She shook her board at him. “No sane man shows up in the back of a warehouse in New York City naked unless he’s crazy or out to rape some unsuspecting female.”

“New York City? Warehouse?” Harry staggered backward. “What the hell are you talking about? And why would I want to rape you?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard about your type. Preying on lone females. I have a good set of lungs on me. I’ll scream if you try anything.”

Harry’s head spun, his mind grasping for answers. “Let me get this straight, I’m not in Iraq? I’m back in America?”

The woman rolled her light green eyes. She’d almost be pretty if her hair wasn’t pulled back so severely. And her skin was translucent white sprinkled with a dusting of freckles, complimenting the amber tint of her eyebrows and the thin wisps curling around her ears. “No and yes.”

“How the hell did I get here?”

“That’s my question.”

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the fog. “One moment, Will and I were opening the sarcophagus—”

“Who’s Will?” The woman darted a glance around her.

“My assistant on the dig.” Harry looked around too. “And apparently not here.”

“So you’re one of the men from the Iraq dig?” Her hand wavered for a moment, then she shifted the stick to the other. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here and without clothing.”

“I told you, I don’t know.” His head ached, and the damp of the warehouse seeped through his bare skin into his bones. He shivered. “I don’t suppose you have something more substantial than this apron for me to wear?”

“You’re the one running around without clothes in the middle of a cool snap.”

“Nevertheless, I am a bit cold.” He reached behind him to try to close the edges of the apron to stop the breeze cooling his backside.

She didn’t budge. “So you’re telling me you were at the archeological dig in Iraq, and you don’t know how you got here?”

He scrubbed his hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. How strange he must look. “All I can remember is touching the stone of Azhi and the rest is a blur.”

“Huh?” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s the stone of Azhi?”

How much should he tell a complete stranger? He’d spent so much time searching. “Does it matter?”

“You really don’t know what happened?”

“Honest.”

“And you were at the dig in Iraq?” The stick bobbed and lowered an inch.

“Yes.” How could he make her believe? “I’d been working on that site since nineteen.”

Her head tilted to the side. “Nineteen what?”

“Nineteen nineteen.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Nineteen what? Since you were nineteen?”

“No.” What was her problem? Didn’t she understand English? He spoke in slow, deliberate words. “The year nineteen nineteen.”

“You mean nineteen ninety-nine.”

She’d accused him of being a lunatic only now, Harry could swear she was the crazy one. “No, I meant nineteen-nineteen.”

“The next thing you’ll tell me you’re, what…” Her eyes tipped toward the ceiling. “…one hundred years old.”

“No, I just turned thirty.”

The stick leveled off, chest high. “What year were you born?” She shot the question at him, her words brisk and clear.

“1894,” he answered without hesitation.

Her mouth dropped slightly, her eyes widening for a brief moment. Then she glanced around the warehouse. “Oh, I get it, this is a joke.” She laughed out loud, a smile curving her lips, softening the tight lines of her face. When she allowed her features to relax, she could almost be considered pretty.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. This situation. Whoever put you up to this charade? Which one of my colleagues? Who was it?”

“What charade?”

“You either have a really bad memory, can’t add or are pulling the hell out of my leg.” She shook the fractured board at him. “Which one is it?”

Feeling more confused by the moment, he snapped, “I’ve always been very good with my numbers, and I have an exceptional memory.”

“That leaves pulling my leg.” She poked his chest. “I’m calling the police.”

“Why, what year were you born?”

“Nineteen seventy-five. Which, I suspect is about when you were born, give or take a few years.”

“Nineteen seventy-five.” Harry snorted. “This game has gone on long enough, woman. When I woke up this morning, it was the year of our lord nineteen hundred and twenty-four. I know I couldn’t have been out for very long. What is today’s date?”

“March fourteenth, two thousand and five. Now, as you so eloquently put it, I’m tired of playing games. Who are you and why are you naked in the warehouse of the New York City Anthropological Museum?”

Other authors participating in Snippet Saturday:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
http://shilohwalker.com/website
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Felicity Heaton
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels

Snippet Saturday - Author's Choice

VOODOO FOR TWO
Cajun Magic Book #2

by Elle James

 

April 29th Release

Available for pre-order

 

BLURB

Be careful what you wish for…

 

Determined to marry the most eligible bachelor in the parish to save her family, Lucie LeBieu turns a “love bug” loose to cast its Voodoo spell. What she doesn’t count on is hitting two targets—the golden boy congressional candidate and her Cajun-hot ex. To set things right, she must undo the spell before she falls into bed—and back in love—with a certain down and dirty heartbreakin' cop or breaks another man's heart.

 

Undercover investigator Ben Boyette is back in Louisiana on special assignment when he runs across his old flame, brewing up trouble as usual. But when hometown threats turn deadly, Lucie's life is on the line. Determined to protect both her and his politician assignment from falling victim to a murderer, Ben finds that he's the one who's falling hard for the irresistible bayou temptress.

EXCERPT

Bayou Miste, Louisiana

Nothing was blacker than nighttime deep in the swamps. Stars couldn’t penetrate the cypress canopy laden with long tendrils of Spanish moss dripping down over land and water. Silence reigned as if all the creatures of the murky waters and dense underbrush held their breaths for something—a cue, a signal, a happening—A drum thrummed to life, stirring the night air in an ancient rhythm. The gentle sway of a breeze wafted through the gossamer moss, dancing in time to the placid swishing, lulling the insects and frogs into song.

“Breathe the air, touch the earth, stir the waters, and play with fire.”

Just when Lucie LeBieu thought she couldn’t stand still for another moment, the scrape of a match cut across the calm hum of the night. Bright flame slashed through the darkness, illuminating the faces of three women standing in a circle. This dark and mysterious place in the midst of the Atchafalaya Basin, on the edge of Bayou Miste, just happened to be home to Lucie, her twin sister Lisa, and her grandmother, the locally infamous Madame LeBieu, Voodoo queen of the surrounding bayous.

“Do you feel de rhythm of de night?” Mamère LeBieu’s voice caressed the darkness, the sound an extension of the drum’s beat.

Lucie shifted, not liking the creepy feeling she always got when her family did these kinds of things. “Gran, this is silly.”

“Shh!” The older woman, dressed in a flowing red caftan, set the flame to a fat candle, then an incense stick, and placed them on the ground at the center of the circle. “We must commune with nature, become one wit’ de power, de energy present in de darkness.” Her grandmother’s accent was as thick as the humid air and tepid waters of Bayou Miste.

Lisa and Lucie had been raised in New York City for the first eight years of their lives. Any accent they might have acquired in Louisiana since then was out of pure self-preservation, and it wasn’t anything to talk about, in their grandmother’s book.

“Feel de magick ,” her grandmother insisted, tipping her face back as if soaking in the moonlight that wasn’t visible through the canopy of trees.

“Mamère, I never do it right.” She tried to shake off the sense of impending doom.

A hand reached out and pinched her arm. “Shut up and listen, Sis,” her twin grumbled. “Can’t you feel it? It’s hot, alive, and sensuous.”

“Lisa! Dis is not da time,” Mamère LeBieu admonished.

Lisa snorted, but kept any further comments to herself.

Lucie stood still, closed her eyes, and tried.

She really tried, but all she got out of the beating drums, the chirping crickets, and the croaking frogs was a healthy case of the heebie-jeebies. “It’s no use. I’m not cut out for this Voodoo
nonsense.”

“It isn’t nonsense, Lucie,” Lisa said. “I’ve used it to get guys all hot and bothered on several occasions and it worked great.”

“You don’t need potions to get guys all hot and bothered, Sis. I’m just not cut out to do this. I mess it up every time.” Lucie slumped.

“Den be quiet while I work de magick,” her grandmother demanded.

When Mamère LeBieu took that tone, Lucie obeyed. The woman didn’t get angry often, but when she did, woe be unto whoever roused her ire. The woman had a wicked mean streak.

Though Lucie didn’t believe in her own version of Voodoo, she’d seen what a dose of Mamère’s special powder could produce. Maurice Saulnier had the wickedest itch a man could have for two solid weeks after he’d trampled Mamère LeBieu’s favorite azalea bush.

She itched just thinking about it.

“Ezili Freda Daome, goddess of love and all that is beautiful, listen to our prayers, accept our offerings, and enter into our arms, legs, and hearts.”

“Here we go,” Lucie muttered. “Another spell.” She exhaled a long breath. Why couldn’t she have been born into a normal family, with normal parents and grandparents?

Her grandmother swayed with the candle’s flame.

“Goddess of light and stars from above,
Help dose who lost de way to love.
Grant dem de courage to open de heart
De intelligence dey need to make a new start
De humility to admit when dey been wrong
De determination dey need when dey mus’ be strong.
Ezili Freda Daome, goddess of light
Bring dis misguided woman de love tonight.”

Lucie backed away from the circle, holding up her hands, anger swirling in her gut. “You did not just work a love spell on me. Tell me you didn’t, Gran.”

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:

Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Lissa Matthews
Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Jody Wallace
Leah Braemel
Mandy M. Roth
Felicity Heaton
Mari Carr
Selena Blake

Snippet Saturday - Try a Little Tenderness

HONOR BOUND

by Myla Jackson

Samhain Publishing
Amazon
Barnes and Nobles Nook

BLURB

Nominated for a CAPA Award for Best Historical Erotic Romance

For a hot and sexy historical western and menage, check it out!

Two lonely miners in the Colorado Gold Rush and one tempting widow-turned-thief get tied in knots over each other

When what feels right could get a man killed… 

Zach Braun struggles to resist his unnatural desire for his claim partner, Jake. The two rugged miners have been alone in the mountains for months, with no women to relieve them. Exhilarated by the discovery of gold, they give in to their lust and discover sexual delights in each other. 

A witness to seduction…

Widow, Honor Whitaker, is on the run from her Indian captor, when she stumbles upon two men whose sexual activities intrigue her and make her want to join. Determined to retain her independence she takes what she needs from a cabin and runs. 

When a thief attempts to steal their gold, Zach and Jake aren't quite sure what to do with her, so they tie her up. They are shocked to discover their thief witnessed their sexual antics and that she was aroused by what she saw. 

Together the three learn to let go of social mores and to accept what feels good as right, not the devil's work. But their newfound delight in each other might come to an end when a savage comes to claim what is his.

EXCERPT
“Stop that. I can’t think.” He slapped her hand away. “I’m not a dandy all full of flowery words and gentle ways. I haven’t been around a real lady since my mother died a long time ago. The only women I’ve been with have been the two-bit whores in mining towns and I haven’t wanted any of them to share their lives with me. But…” He sighed. “I’m making a mess of this, ain’t I?”

She clasped his face between her hands. “So far you’ve swept me off my feet, Angry Buffalo.” She kissed his lips, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I want you to stay with me, Honor.” He pressed a finger to her lips to keep her from talking. If he didn’t get it all out, he was afraid she’d say no before he could say enough to convince her to stay. “I would never treat you badly. I won’t tie you up anymore, if you don’t want me to. I’ll let you leave if it’s really what you want. I just know that I could fall in love with you, if you’d give me half a chance.”

He dragged in a deep breath, his heart squeezing so tight he was sure it would break into a million pieces. “There. That’s about it. What do you say?” He closed his eyes, for the first time in his life afraid. Afraid he’d lose her when he’d only just found her. Afraid she couldn’t love a lonely mountain man, high in the Rockies away from God and everybody.

Her hand cupped his chin and warm soft lips pressed against his eyelids. “Look at me, Zach.”

His cock twitched inside her, full, erect and ready for action. But everything hinged on her answer. His future depended on what the widow had to say.

“We barely know each other,” she said, her mouth pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, her breasts rubbing against his chest.

“We have all our lives to work on that.” He wanted to take each nipple into his mouth and tongue them until they beaded into shiny little pebbles.

“What about my independence?”

He spread his arm wide. “You’re free to go whenever you want. All I ask is that you give us a chance.”

She smiled, her heels pressing into his ass. “I’ll need a new dress.”

Hope surged through him. “I’ll get you five.”

“What about Jake? He needs a woman.”

“I’ll get him one.” He hugged her to him. “Just not you. I love Jake, but I want you for me.”

Honor pushed him far enough away to look down into his eyes. “What if I want Jake to join us?” She raised her brows, waiting for his response.

Zach’s body quickened, his dick throbbing at the thought of another threesome. “Whatever you desire. As long as I’m somewhere in there.”

“Oh, you will be. I want you where you are now.” She tightened her legs, lifting herself up to the end of his shaft and then slid down into the water, slowly taking him back into her fully. “I like this. Can we do this often?”

“As often as you like. Just stay with me, Little Thief.” He held her close, his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the vein pulsing beneath her skin.

“I’m not the thief here,” she said. “I never took a thing. It’s you who have stolen from me.”

He looked up into her shining eyes. “And what have I stolen?”

“My heart.” She kissed him and whispered in his ear, “I’ll stay.”

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:
Shelli Stevens
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
TJ Michaels
Lissa Matthews
Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Jody Wallace
Leah Braemel
Mandy M. Roth
Felicity Heaton

Snippet Saturday - Crawling Back to You

FIT TO BE TIED

by Myla Jackson
***Leave a comment for a chance to win a download of ***
FIT TO BE TIED

Kindle
Nook
Ellora's Cave

BLURB

Stipulations of his grandfather’s will demands Richard Rayburn marry by his twenty-fifth birthday or he’ll lose a valuable piece of land. On the eve of his birthday, his fiancé breaks his engagement and Richard finds himself in a bit of tight situation. Where will he find a bride in less than one day?

Desperate enough to steal to put food on her table, the widow Julia Blackmon, assumes the disguise of the Black Bandit to strike fear in the heart of her potential victims. But her first and only victim turns the tables and captures her! After a night held hostage, tied to his bed, Julia discovers the whore within herself and talents no cowboy should be without in her captor, Richard Rayburn.

When the morning of Richard’s twenty-fifth birthday arrives, he’s made his decision to marry the bandit. Richard offers her an ultimatum. Marry him or go to jail.  What is a desperate widow to do?

EXCERPT
Richard had taken one step down when a hushed murmur spread from the back of the crowd. The murmur grew into loud applause and cheers.

Richard glanced up, afraid to believe his own eyes.

Julia Blackmon strode down the street toward him, head held high, the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Dressed in an old-fashioned white gown and carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, she hurried toward him, followed by an old woman.

As she neared the crowd, it parted, making way for the bride.

Richard descended the stone steps and held out his hand.

She took it in hers, a sad smile quirking the corners of her mouth. “I know they caught the Black Bandit.”

“My grandfather’s will was a hoax,” Richard blurted.

“We don’t have to get married, do we?” She stared up into his eyes, waiting for his response.

“No we don’t.” Richard glanced at the crowd, at the preacher and his brother and returned his gaze to her. “But since we’re here…will you marry me?” He held his breath for the longest time, until he felt he’d pass out in front of the woman he knew he could love, given half a chance.

Her gaze locked with his and, for a long moment, she didn’t utter a word. Then the sweetest word he’d ever heard came from her lips. “Yes.”

All the air in his chest rushed out and a grin spread across his face. “Let’s go inside.” He held his elbow out for her to take, more happiness radiating throughout his being than he ever thought possible.

“No.” She pulled back on his arm, the smile gone from her face.

“No?” Had he heard her wrong? Had she not said yes? All his hopes crashed into the pit of his empty belly. Damn the woman and damn himself!

Then her face lit in a blinding grin. “The church is too small to accommodate all these fine people. Can’t we get married right here in the sunshine, in front of God and the good citizens of Mule Ear?”

For the second time in a minute, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Julia Blackmon, I don’t care if we get married locked up in the jailhouse, as long as you hurry it up and say I do.”

Her smile turned mischievous, “That, cowboy, can be arranged.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “But think of all the fun you’d be missing on the wedding night if we spent it in jail.”

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
TJ Michaels
Lissa Matthews
Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane

Snippet Saturday - They call it the Blues

BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND TEST

by Elle James aka Myla Jackson
*****Leave a comment for a chance to win a download of *****

BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND TEST 

BLURB
The first book in the Billionaire Online Dating Service Series.

Skeptical billionaire takes a risk on a friend's online dating service and finds the cowgirl of his dreams, now he only has to convince her that he's her perfect match

Billionaire Online Dating Service. It's new, it's exclusive. Let's test it!

How did Billionaire Cooper Johnson allow himself to get roped into testing a brand new online dating system? After making a fortune day-trading stocks, he's on track to accomplish all his life goals, except marriage and a family. As a billionaire, meeting the right woman is a minefield of gold-diggers, false eyelashes and surgically enhanced women. The Billionaire Online Dating Service matches hand-picked, screened clientele with the mates of their dreams. Or so the package was sold. As a favor for a friend, Cooper finds himself on the Rockin' J Ranch confronting his "date's" four tough looking cowboy brothers. When their girl-next-door, long, tall, gorgeous sister steps out on the porch, Cooper doesn't know whether to run to her or away. One date, that's all he's signed up for and he can be out of there. Or will one date be enough?

She had everything—a fiancée, a great future, love...until she lost it all

Still mourning the loss of her fiancée who died two years ago, Emma Jacobs can't imagine loving anyone else. But her four brothers won't quit pushing men her way. In a desperate attempt to throw her brothers off her back, she engages her friend's dating service to find a pasty-faced businessman sure to fail her brothers' husband criteria. Maybe then her brothers will finally back off and leave her alone.

Best laid plans tend to blow up in Emma's face. When her date turns out to be everything her brothers are looking for in a husband for Emma, she's got a bigger problem than she started out with. She lets Cooper in on her plan to have him date and dump her. Surprisingly he goes along with it. But Cooper has plans of his own. And they don't involve dumping the determined, sexy, independent cowgirl.

Note: Make a stop at Myla Jackson's Ugly Stick Saloon in this story and say hi to old friends.

EXCERPT

His mouth came down over hers, gentle at first, then with increasing pressure, his tongue pushing past her lips and teeth to stroke the length of hers.

Emma's fingers laced through Cooper's dark hair, knocking the hat from his head.

Something about exposing the cowboy's head to the moonlight made Emma's nipples tight and rub deliciously against the lace of her bra, a leg circling behind Cooper's.

"Hey, get a room," a man called out.

Emma pushed away from Cooper, her eyes wide, her heart hammering against her ribs. "That shouldn't have happened."

Cooper reached out with both arms. "But it did."

Her head shaking back and forth, Emma pressed a fist to her lips. "No. It can't. I love Marcus."

Cooper's jaw tightened and his arms fell to his sides. "Emma, Marcus is gone."

With pain radiating through her chest, Emma pressed a hand against her breast to ease it. "I have to go." She spun and ran for Ace's pickup. Once inside, she blindly jabbed the key into the ignition. She took three tries to get it in. Then she yanked the gear into reverse and spun out of the parking lot. 

Despite her determination not to, Emma glanced in her rearview mirror.

Cooper scooped his hat off the ground and stood in the glow of the overhead light, watching her. Then he ran his hand through his hair.

Emma's fingers tingled with the remembered texture of that hair. She forced her focus on the road, her hands tightening around the steering wheel, the night blurring past as she sped home.

Once inside the ranch house, she raced for her room and dragged a box from beneath the bed. One by one, she pulled out pictures, keepsakes and articles of clothing. All belonging to Marcus and their life together. Nelson trotted into the room and lay down beside her, his golden chin resting on her thigh. 

"Why is this happening?" Emma stroked the dog's head. "I loved Marcus. There's no other man I want in my life."

Nelson whined and nudged her hand when it stopped the stroking motion.

Emma lifted Marcus's dog tags from the bottom of the box and held the chain in her fingers. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Why did you leave me?" More tears followed the first. Emma stared at the picture on her nightstand of Marcus and her. When she closed her eyes, the image faded, replaced by Cooper standing in the moonlight after a kiss that should never have happened.

Emma clutched Marcus's dog tags to her chest and curled up beside the golden retriever on the braided rug. "Why did you leave me?" she whispered.

As exhaustion claimed Emma, Marcus's voice seemed to whisper through the open window, "I never did and never will."

Other Authors participating in Snippet Saturday:
Shelli Stevens
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
McKenna Jeffries
http://shilohwalker.com/website
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
TJ Michaels
Lissa Matthews
Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane