Saturday, August 25, 2012

Snippet Saturday

It's Authors' choice today and I choose.....dang it was hard. I love all my books....but I thought I might go with a little excitement:
And the winner of my BOOTS AND LEATHER blog tour 
was Joanne on the Long and Short Reviews Blog.
Congratulations!!! 

THAT VOODOO YOU DO

BY Myla Jackson

 

Blurb

 Using Voodoo and passionate persuasion, panther shape-shifting brothers woo an abducted heiress over to their side of the bayou.


Determined to convince a rich heiress that the land she just bought should be left undeveloped,  panther shapeshifting brothers use a little Voodoo to abduct her and bring her to the swamps to woo her to their side of the bayou.

Warning: Two hot panther shifters, one sassy heiress and the bayou will never be the same...

Excerpt

Fear and adrenaline spurred on Catherine, as she rushed for the front door, easing it open. Out on the porch, which served as a dock, she located a small dugout canoe with one paddle.

Never having canoed a day in her life, she shrugged. The task couldn't be that hard. She untied the rope mooring the canoe to the dock. Gathering her dress's long skirt, she stepped off the dock and into the tiny boat. It rocked crazily and she nearly fell in. She flopped down on the bottom of the boat, biting hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

As the canoe settled, Catherine breathed for the first time in what felt like hours. Carefully, she lifted the single paddle and dug it into the water like she'd seen on the movies. The craft slid forward, bumping into one of the poles the house stood on.

She gasped and glanced up at the house. Nothing stirred, no one came out and shouted. She pressed the paddle against the pole, pushing the canoe away from the house and out into the open water.

With her pulse galloping, she dipped the paddle into the water on the right side. The canoe shot forward and to the left. She lifted the paddle and plowed it into the water on the left side. Soon she had a rhythm going and the distance grew between her and the house.

When she'd gained sufficient distance that even Luc couldn't swim and catch up, she laughed out loud. "No one keeps a Boudreaux prisoner for long."

A shadow moved on a stretch of land beside her.

Catherine's heart shot into her throat. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. Gold eyes gleamed in the dark underbrush. If she wasn't mistaken, the animal was a cat. A big, black monster of a cat. No, the creature wasn't a cat at all, but a panther, larger than any Catherine had seen in a zoo.

Her heartbeat skittering into panic mode, Catherine dug her paddle into the water so deep her fingers got wet and the canoe turned away from the shoreline and the large feline. Again, she struck out on the same side, desperate to put enough water between her and the animal. Instead, the canoe spun in a circle.
The gold eyes flashed and the panther's mouth opened, long sharp teeth glinting in a flash of sunshine. It growled, a paw stretching out, claws extended.

Her heart thumping hard against her chest, Catherine knew she had to paddle on the other side to straighten the boat and get away from the cat. Her wets hands shook badly as she swung the paddle to the opposite side. The wooden oar slipped from her fingers and plunged into the water, shooting away before she could grab it.

The cat in the shadows surged forward.

Catherine lunged for the paddle, the canoe tipped and she fell in, her long dress weighing her down, dragging her to the bottom.

Usually a good swimmer, she panicked, her arms flailing as she struggled for the surface. Her legs tangled in the long skirt, forcing her arms to do all the work. By the time she reached air, her lungs burned, her arms strained and she couldn't decide whether she was more afraid of the panther or of drowning.

Struggling to tread water, while her dress pulled her downward, Catherine's gaze panned her immediate surroundings. The stretch of land where the panther paced the water's edge was closest, but out of the question. Other tiny islands lay much farther away. What looked like a log floating in the dark water could be a temporary reprieve until Catherine decided what to do. The log was almost as close as the panther and seemed to be moving her way.

Then the log blinked.

Catherine's blood ran cold, her arms and legs stopped fighting the water for a moment and she sank, water washing up her nose. She kicked upward, back-paddling toward the land, panther or no panther. She'd rather take her chances with a panther than an alligator.

One minute the alligator was there, the next he was gone.

Catherine glanced down at the murky water. Where'd he go? Dear God, he'd gone down, heading directly for her. She turned and swam as fast as she could, straight for land, the black panther and assuredly death.
Five feet from shore, she could taste her salvation. She'd make dry ground and then have to fight off the panther. At least she could breathe on land.

Just a few more feet. Her arms ached, her feet barely helped so hampered by the skirt of her long gown, but Catherine pushed on.

Then long, sharp teeth scraped across her skin, snagged her dress and yanked her backward and underwater. Her chest clenched.

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:

Megan Hart:Read in bed! 
Leah Braemel
Eliza Gayle
Mandy M Roth
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
Shelli Stevens
Delilah Devlin
Jody Wallace

 


Saturday, August 18, 2012

Snippet Saturday - Lean on Me

Rosalyn needs to take the edge off before she faces her nemesis and former fiance. What are friends like James for but to help a lady out.

RIVER BOUND

by Myla Jackson

 

Blurb

What do a madame and a bounty hunter have in common? They want the same man.


When Rosalyn Smythe, aka Madame Rosie, steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she hopes it’s the end of a year-long search for her runaway fiancé, Dalton Black. Her cabin holds a surprise: James McKendrick. Notorious bounty hunter, old lover…a man only too happy to help her clear the air—and her heart—of her murdering, thieving bastard fiancé once and for all.

In disguise as a riverboat gambler, Dalton is determined to find who framed him for killing two U.S. Army soldiers and who stole the gold they were carrying. He wants his life back—and his woman, who just happens to be on board and on the arm of his former best friend.

Convincing James he’s innocent is easier than winning back Rosalyn’s heart. Especially since Rosalyn seems to be enjoying their competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out his dilemma. In bed.

As the sheets become unbearably hot, threads of evidence leading to the real killer are unraveling, leading toward one fateful card game—and one man who’s hell-bent on making sure Dalton has nothing left to lose.

Warning: This title contains hot ménage a trois scenes, bondage, and two men loving, sharing and fighting for the love of one woman with very specific bedroom desires and a a bordello full of experience to tempt any man beyond redemption.

Excerpt

When her lips left his, Rosalyn leaned her forehead against James’s chest. “What happened to us, James?”

“You made a choice.”

“I did, didn’t I? For this past year, I’ve asked myself over and over if I made the wrong choice.”

“Did you come up with an answer?”

She sighed. “No.”

“No, you didn’t make the wrong choice, or no answer?”

“No answer. I came up with no answers to all the questions I asked myself.” Rosalyn rested her hands against James’s chest and stared up into his gray-green eyes. “You are perfect in every way. Why didn’t I choose you?”

“Because you loved Dalton more.”

She stood in James’s embrace, unable to look away. “Right now I want to hold you, to be in your arms.” Her fingers went to the buttons on his shirt. “To feel your skin against mine. Make me feel alive again.”

He caught her fingers, and he held them away from his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I’m not anxious to get hurt again.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. Let me make it up to you. Let me make love to you.”

“And when Dalton shows up?”

“I’ll cross that river when I get to it.”

“No deal.”

Rosalyn looked into James’s eyes. “Don’t you want to make love to me? For old time’s sake?”

His grip tightened until the pain made her wince.

He let go and stepped away. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Rosalyn closed the distance, her hands slipping inside his shirt to run across his skin, feathering through the mat of hair covering his chest until she located the hard brown nipples, puckered and waiting for her to pluck. “Show me how much you want me.”

“I can’t make love to you, Roz.”

“Yes, you can. Pretend I’m one of the ladies at the Rose Palace. You can close your eyes if you like.” She left his body and flicked the buttons loose on her jacket, one at a time, her fingers sliding back and forth over her breasts. James liked her breasts while Dalton had craved her ass. Her lips twitched. Each man had their preference. Dalton liked it when she was on top, James liked to fuck her from the rear, like a stud mounting his mare.

Rosalyn liked making love with them any way they pleased, because they’d taken the time to please her in all the ways she craved…good and bad.

“You can tell me how you like it.” She alternated between touching him and undressing herself. “You don’t even have to take off your clothes…except…” She reached for the remaining buttons on his shirt.

James stiffened, closed his eyes and groaned. “This is a mistake, a big mistake.”

Other authors participating in Snippet Saturday:

Megan Hart:Read in bed! 
Leah Braemel
Eliza Gayle
Mandy M Roth
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels
Delilah Devlin
Jody Wallace

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Snippet Saturday - Life is Beautiful

Nothing like a melee to get the blood pumping. Jacq's just the gal to enjoy a good fight. Get a glimpse of Jacq's life. It's beautiful and just about to change for the wild and rugged.

Jacq's Warlord

by Myla Jackson and Delilah Devlin 

 Blurb

 With proportions that would make Xena weep, Jaqueline Frazier despairs of ever finding a lover she won’t squash like a bug. Everything changes the day she ignores an itty-bitty warning regarding the use of a family heirloom and finds herself swept off her feet by a knight in not so shining armor, back to the twelfth century. Eeek! No toilet paper, no cell phones and no junk food! Embroiled in the adventure of a lifetime yet forced to accept the protection of the overbearing, beast of a man, Rufus of Rathburn, Jacq struggles to find her place in the past while searching for a way back to the future. In the meantime, she aids Rufus’s war cause with a little 21st-century ingenuity. Nothing like shaking up the warlord with lessons in bomb-making, guerilla tactics and the joys of sex.

At first unwilling and downright ungrateful, Rufus begins to see merit in Jacq’s odd ways. Perhaps because of her eccentricities, Rufus learns of a love and lust that breaks the barriers of time. But will their love be strong enough for Jacq to plot a different future in the past?

Excerpt

Jacq puffed at a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail and stuck to her sweaty forehead. Then she narrowed her eyes to glare at her opponent. “Prepare to die, Roman!” she bellowed.

“How ‘bout it, Jacq?” George said under his breath as he dodged her blow. His short leather skirt flared just high enough for a glimpse of his dirt-striped white Hanes. “One beer. Let me buy you one at the Hostler’s Inn when we’re through.”

Jacqueline Frazier aka Hargred the Warrior Woman, at least for the rest of the tourney, stomped her feet, grinding her heels into the mud. “Sorry, George,” she said, raising her broadsword over her shoulder like a baseball bat. “You’re not my type. I’m gonna kick your ass, so stop trying to distract me.”

George darted to the left and then lunged, his sword jabbing toward her midsection.

Jacq swung, intercepting his move with a bone-jarring clang of metal. “I could see that coming a mile, George.” She grinned. She’d never tell, but she enjoyed the banter they shared on the field. If only he offered more of a physical challenge. “You gotta do better than that.”

George grinned back, his smile a slash of white in his mud-splattered face. “What, are Centurions too tame for you?” he drawled, his voice pitched low enough for her to hear, but not reach the spectators in the stand. “I think you’re just playing hard to get.”

She quirked one eyebrow and waved him closer. “Then come and get me, George.”

He growled and flexed his massive chest and arm muscles—every bit as imposing as Rowdy Roddy Piper in a Wrestlemania face-off. The impressive display of manly vigor was spoiled when he leaned toward her and whispered, “How ‘bout letting me win just once? I’m tired of eating Georgia clay.” For the benefit of the crowd, he beat his breastplate with his sword.

Jacq snickered. “What would be the fun in that?” She drew a deep breath, puffing out her chest and scowling, and then trumped his performance with an ululating battle cry. She swung her sword in a wide arc, her body turning to follow the blade while her own pleated leather skirt slapped her thighs.

As she closed the distance between them, George’s eyes widened. “Shit!” When she was a sword’s length away, he feinted to the right, surprising Jacq with a sideways slice.

She jerked aside too late. His blunt sword slammed against the metal cones covering her breasts. Unable to pull her feet from the muck, she lost her balance and landed on her backside, splashing mud like Shamu at poolside.

George’s forward momentum carried him past her until he skidded to a halt.

The crowd roared, but Jacq ignored the hecklers’ calls for Hargred’s beheading. She pushed herself off the arena floor and reached to shove back the horned helmet from her forehead.

George whipped around to face her and grinned. “Ah Jacq, is it any wonder I’m half in love with you? You’ve got mud under your nose. It looks like a big brown booger.”

Jacq wiped her nose with the backside of a grimy hand. “And you can’t figure out why I’m not dying to go out with you?”

“That’s all right, sweetheart. There’s always next year. But right now—” He pointed at the arena floor. “I’m gonna take you down.”

Jacq cocked her head from left to right, cracking vertebrae before resuming her stance, sword poised over her shoulder. “You talk big, George, but remember who taught you your moves.”

“Oh, I’d be worried if I was facing your daddy.” George swung his sword like a mace and gave an admirable roar that the crowd joined.

Jacq caught the blow with her blade, grunting with pain. Though the metal of their swords was a lighter cast than the real McCoy, and blunted to prevent serious injury, they’d both have the bruises and aching muscles to show for their day’s work.

George slid in the mud, but righted himself quickly.

Jacq waited for him to face her. “Just remember. You train with him twice a year. He kicks my ass every day.”

When Jacq was sure she had his and the crowd’s full attention, she flipped her sword high into the air in a graceful arc, its metal surface reflecting glints of the early afternoon sun. On its downward arc she twirled away to deftly catch the sword behind her back.

“You fight like a girl. Quit twirling your baton and fight me, dammit,” George said, his bravado unconvincing because it was accompanied by a groan.

The sounds of the other warriors fighting in the mêlée waned. Jacq decided it was time to end George’s dream of an upset victory. She raised her sword in front of her in a double-fisted grip. “Enough talk. Let’s dance.”

Thrusting, dodging and slicing, Jacq and George moved through their crudely choreographed sequences like WWF wrestlers. While their moves were practiced to prevent serious harm, the outcome wasn’t predetermined—whoever put their skills to the best use would win.

George altered the “script” and aimed another wicked slice toward Jacq’s shoulder.

This time she was ready, ducking below the stroke of his sword and coming up as momentum turned him sideways. She swung her own sword, whacking him in the ass with the flat of the blade. When he faltered, she kicked her leg against the back of his knees, sweeping him off his feet to land in an ignominious heap.
While he made mud angels trying to find a handhold in the muck, Jacq raised her sword high above her head, tip pointing down. She lifted her gaze to the spectators in the stadium seats and received a decisive number of thumbs-down votes.

“No wonder you don’t date.” George glared in disgust. “You’d never let the man be on top.”

“Maybe next year, sweetheart. Meantime, give them a good death.” With that said, she plunged her sword down into the space between his arm and ribs.

George played his part to the hilt, flopping like a dying fish until he gasped his last breath and lay still.

The audience whistled and pounded their feet on the wooden bleachers. Jacq raised her sword above her head in victory.

Other authors participating in Snippet Saturday

McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels
Shelli Stevens
Jody Wallace
Megan Hart:Read in bed! 
Leah Braemel
Eliza Gayle
Mandy M Roth
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr

Saturday, August 04, 2012

Snippet Saturday - Ain't No Sunshine

 I just loved this story. Here's the groom praying his wedding goes off without a hitch...

FIT TO BE TIED

by Myla Jackson



 

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 scrubbed a hand over his tired face, remembering he’d gotten very little sleep the night before. His memories of what had transpired in his bedroom brought a fleeting smile to his lips before his mood took a downturn. “I found the woman I’m going to marry.”

“He doesn’t know the first thing about cattle ranching. Just because he won his ranch from Old Man Finnegan in a poker game doesn’t give him the right—” Stephen stopped in mid-sentence. “What did you say?”

“I said I found her,” Richard repeated more slowly as if to a dimwitted child.

Stephen’s face split in a wide grin and he pounded his brother on the back. “Very well! Who is she? Where is she? How did you find a woman crazy enough to marry you with only a day’s notice?”

Richard turned away from his brother, unwilling to go into the details of his run-in with the fake Black Bandit. “It’s enough for you to know I found her and the wedding is still set for one o’clock this afternoon in Mule Ear.” Providing the bride showed up.

“You’re not going to tell me all the delectable details, are you?” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pushing his brows together. “At least give me her name. I have a right to know who my future sister-in-law is.”

“Julia Blackmon.”

“Ah, a widow-woman.” Stephen’s brows waggled. “No silly virgins for you, I take it. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s not hard on the eyes.”

“She’s passable.” She was more than passable but Richard didn’t like discussing Julia as if she were a common whore to be chosen from a lineup of bordello women. She was due the respect of a lady, even if she had dressed as an outlaw and tried to rob him. His lips twitched as he remembered how she looked in the black trousers, vest and coat and how much he’d enjoyed stripping them from her delicious body, one item at a time. Peeling away the layers of anonymity to discover the beautiful creature beneath the man’s garb.

His cock filled and he was glad he’d turned away from his brother’s sharp scrutiny.

“Passable? We are talking about Julia Blackmon, the widow with the coal black hair and incredible blue eyes? She was at Clancy’s last night, was she not?” Stephen shook his head. “Oh yes indeed, she’s a beauty, all right.”

“I just hope she shows for the wedding,” Richard muttered beneath his breath.

Unfortunately, his brother heard his softly spoken entreaty. “You have any doubt?”

“Some. We didn’t have much time to discuss it and she wasn’t too keen on the idea.”

“But she did say yes, didn’t she?”

“Not really.”

“Then how do you know she’ll be there?”

“I just do.” Richard’s back teeth ground together. Hell, he didn’t know for sure if his threat would make any difference with her and the reality of his loose hold on her ate at his gut. The more he thought about Julia, the more he wished he’d kept her until the wedding. From his short acquaintance with the woman, he could tell she was stubborn and independent, the perfect wife for a rancher. To force her into a wedding would only get her back up and push her away.

Damn. He’d blown his chance. He turned to his brother. “She has to show up. That’s all there is to it.” He stalked out of the house to the well and drew a bucket of water.

Stephen followed him out. “What do you plan to do?”

“What does it look like?” He lifted the bucket of fresh, cool water and carried it toward the house. “The chores. And then I’m going to bathe for my wedding.”

Instead of a worried expression, a smile curved his brother’s lips. “I rather relish the idea of the great Richard Rayburn standing at the alter, awaiting a bride that may or may not come. That is, if it didn’t mean losing the rights to Spring Valley. You do realize that if she doesn’t show, you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire town.”

“Then I’ll deserve it.” He stopped and stared at his brother. “Are you coming to my wedding or not?”
Stephen grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in England.”


Other Authors participating in Snippet Saturday


Leah Braemel
Eliza Gayle
Mandy M Roth
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels
Megan Hart:Read in bed!