Tuesday, May 5, 2015

The Sons of Dusty Walker



The Sons of Dusty Walker have officially hit the cyber shelves at Amazon! Yee haw! I'm beyond excited to be a part of this amazing series! If you're going to be attending RT in Dallas make sure to look for our gigantic poster. Me, Randi, and our handsome cover model, Scott Nova, will be hanging around, so come say hi!

Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 1
Jackson: The Sons of Dusty WalkerBook 2
Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3)Book 3
Rogue: The Sons of Dusty WalkerBook 4


Secrets and lies—the legacy of Dylan Walker’s existence. Ashamed of his status as a bastard son, Dylan found solace and a sense of identity as the lead bass guitarist for Truckstop Pickup. But with one phone call, his world is shaken to its core. Summoned to Kansas after the death of his father, Dylan discovers he has three brothers he knew nothing about. Reeling from that earth-shattering revelation, he figures life can’t throw him a bigger curveball. Until fate puts him face-to-face with the woman his heart refuses to forget...and her little boy. Who just happens to bear a striking resemblance to Dylan.

Never love a musician. That’s always been Zoe Chapman’s number one motto. Daughter of a legendary country star, she knew that truth better than anyone. Then she’d met Dylan. He’d stripped her of her defenses, and she’d fallen. Hard. Now he’s back in her world. A living, breathing, too-sinful-for-words personification of everything she’s ever wanted. And can never have. Only Dylan is dead set on becoming a permanent fixture in their son's life. Determined to make her part of the package deal, he works at breaking down her walls again, and her resistance is slipping faster than her panties.

But there’s another secret Zoe’s hiding. And it could end up pushing Dylan away from her forever. 

Excerpt



Dylan ambled into the periodical aisle and scanned the options. Naturally his favorite—Guitar World—was noticeably absent, so he picked up the latest Time instead. A nearby fashion rag snagged his attention, mainly because the model on the cover had a smoldering gaze that reeled him in. He stood there like a complete dope, the magazine clutched in his hand, but his mind was a million miles away, steeped in an erotic memory. Gorgeous green eyes locked with his, peering straight into his soul. The sensuous slip-slide of their sweat-slickened bodies. Zoe’s nails digging into his ass, refusing to let him go, even when he buried himself so hard and deep within her, he swore he could feel her heartbeat. Or maybe it was the fierce mad rush of his own pulse as she annihilated his defenses. She was a danger to all of his carefully held rules. Don’t get close. Offer no promises. Forget her and move on.

The first two had been taken out of his hands with her refusal to give him her last name. But Rule Three was impossible. He’d never forget her. God knows he’d tried.

He thunked the magazine back in the rack and continued his shopping, adding a box of Benadryl to his stash in hopes of it helping him get some shut eye the rest of the week. The sound of a young child’s laughter broke through his concentration. Customers must have come in when he wasn’t paying attention. Time to get his ass back to Hazel before someone beat him to the front of the line.

Rounding the corner of the aisle, he spotted the petite blonde parked at the counter. Damn, too slow.
He checked out the blonde’s heart-shaped posterior, his resignation shifting to appreciation. He’d gladly buy a round of beers for whoever was responsible for inventing yoga pants. Hell, he’d purchase them an entire distillery. 

The female scraped her hair back and he spotted the hot pink streaks scattered in with the platinum locks. He wouldn’t have figured anyone around these parts for adopting an edgier style like that. Maybe she wasn’t local. 

And didn’t that make things potentially interesting?

Hazel scooted up to her side of the counter and beamed a smile, instantly breaking up Dylan’s two-second happy parade quicker than a firehose set on full blast. Judging from the older woman’s response, the blonde wasn’t a stranger in town. 

Just his damn luck. First female in a long time who stirred more than a passing fascination in him and he had to keep his mitts to himself.
 
“Zoe, dear. Perfect timing. I was about to give ya a ring to see about some private lessons for Ginger.”

Dylan jolted at the name. Holy shit. How damn weird was that? Here he’d been thinking about Zoe, and another one stood a couple feet in front of him. And it wasn’t even that common of a—

His thoughts rear-ending each other like a fifty car pileup, he jerked his attention back to the world class butt he’d eagerly admired seconds ago. A tingle of déjà vu tripping through his synapses, he blinked. “Zoe?”

“Hm?” The blonde sent him a distracted look over her shoulder.

Shock punching him square in the solar plexus, he returned the gaze of the woman who’d haunted his dreams for the last four years. 

He cataloged the exact moment Zoe registered who he was. Her poleaxed expression hinted that she was equally stunned by their unexpected reunion. He prayed that her silence was due to disbelief. They’d left things on good terms, but shit knows women tended to recall events in a wholly different light than most clueless men. And he wasn’t too proud to admit that he could be dimwitted as the rest of his gender. 

Figuring he better say something rather than continuing to gape at her like a psycho, he cleared his throat. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

She opened her mouth, but the only sound that emerged was a wispy, distressed breath. He didn’t think it possible, but her coloring turned several shades whiter than Casper the Friendly Ghost. Suddenly alarmed that she might be moments away from passing out, he rushed forward—and collided with the little tike barreling across his path. The kid bounced off Dylan’s leg and tumbled onto the ground. Before he could reach for the boy, Zoe snapped out of her daze and hunkered to her knees, her shaking hand smoothing over the tot’s stick-straight brown hair. “Hunter, that’s why I keep telling you not to run in stores.”

“Yes, mama.”

The sweet childish voice uttering those two words sent another bolt of shock careening through Dylan. Zoe...was a mom? Desperately trying to process that thought, he slashed his attention to Hunter. As if he’d known he was the subject of deep scrutiny, the little boy popped his thumb in his mouth and peeked up at Dylan.

He stared into Hunter’s eyes. Everything surrounding Dylan tilted at a funny angle and a strange prickle of awareness hopscotched across his suddenly flushed skin. The tiny person looking back at him was a mirror of himself at that age. Honest to God, with that kind of resemblance, Hunter could be...

Hot and cold flashes racing inside him, he reluctantly tore his focus from the boy and met Zoe’s horrified gaze.

Mother. Fucker. 






Wednesday, April 8, 2015

I Double Dare ya!





A while back the Lust With a Laugh crew decided to collaborate on a fun collection of stories, and I'm super thrilled to announce we've officially launched them into the cybersphere! Double Dare is my contribution to the April Fools for Love collection, and it features one of my faves--a wicked hot menage. Make sure to also check out the other 3 titles in the April Fools' for Love collection: Biting Serendipity by Mary Hughes, When the Lights Go Out by Roxy Mews, and Fringe Benefits by SL Carpenter. Our books are only 99 cents each, so it's a great chance to get 4 sizzling books for a sizzling price!


                                                            


From the moment Graham Barlow and Matt Spencer moved into the bungalow across from hers, Dani Tipton’s willpower has been strung to its limit. Ignoring the hot and heavy fantasies the two hunks inspire on a daily basis is more than any woman’s libido can take. Although temptation beckons, Dani’s determined to be a good role model for her wild, trouble-prone younger sister. Jumping in the sack with either of her sexier-than-sin neighbors sure as hell wouldn’t help her case. But when her sister sets up the ultimate April Fools’ prank, Dani suddenly winds up neck-deep in a compromising position. Literally.

For the last eighteen months, Graham and Matt have been carrying a major case of blue balls for Dani. No matter how hard they flirt or lay on the charm, she’s kept them strictly in the friend’s zone. So when they discover her buck naked in their swimming pool they figure they’re either hallucinating—or have been handed their one shot at rocking Dani’s panties off. Not too difficult to do, seeing how she’s not wearing any. Convincing her to indulge in a little frisky threesome skinny dipping? Easy enough. And the sexy interlude that follows is hot enough to boil the pool water. But when it comes to making their unconventional triad permanent, Matt and Graham issue Dani the biggest dare of all—entrusting them with her heart. 

Warning: This M/F/M ménage brings new meaning to getting to know your neighbor. Lusty pool shenanigans and creative uses for hot tub jets. No bathing suit required, but bring an extra towel. Things are bound to get wet.  

Excerpt


“Tell Talia I’ll have that painting ready for her tomorrow.”

A devious twinkle lit Erin’s eyes. “You know what would be freakin’ hilarious? Swap out your watercolor for something hideous, like Dogs Playing Poker.”

“Uh, why would I do that?”

“Tomorrow is April Fools’ Day.”

Aw shit. Thank God she didn’t have to worry about being a victim of anyone’s pranking. Her college years had seen plenty of that stupidity. “I have no idea where to buy a copy of Dogs Playing Poker.”

“I’ve got a person.”

“Do I even want to know what that means?”

“Heh. Probably not.” Leaving Dani to ponder what kind of shady people her sister was hanging out with, Erin dashed to the ancient station wagon parked on the other side of Dani’s convertible. Every time she looked at her sister’s car she was tempted to take a flamethrower to it just to put it out of its misery. Still, Erin had paid for it with her own money, and anything that made her sister proud and responsible was a good thing in Dani’s book.

A motion across the street distracted Dani and she shifted her focus. Graham Barlow lifted from his crouch in front of a large stand-on lawnmower and swiped his grease-streaked forearm across his brow. The movement pulled his black tank top snug to his chest, molding the fabric to the mouthwatering contours of his ripped muscles. He tossed a scowl toward the shiny silver pickup truck that he and his roommate used for their landscape business. “Did you find that wrench yet?”

One of the truck’s doors slammed, and Matt Spencer popped into view. He strode to the disabled mower and passed the tool to his partner. A grunt fell from Graham. “Took ya long enough. What were you doing over there, jacking off?”

Oh Lord. Like she needed that image implanted in her brain. Especially since her hormones were already performing their own version of an exuberant Riverdance, thanks to the ogle fest Matt and Graham provided. 

Damn it, she really hated that Erin was right. The two men were walking advertisements for lady boners. Unlike Graham, Matt had forgone a shirt, which put every inch of his strong, sculpted back on mouthwatering display. Her fingertips tingled as she imagined running them down the deep groove of his spine, cruising toward those cute dimples that rode just above— 

A car horn tooted, and Dani jumped guiltily. Both men swiveled their heads and sent a wave to Erin as she reversed out of the driveway.  

Erin poked her head out the station wagon’s window, the sticky breeze rustling her neon blue pixy cut. “When are you gonna grow some balls and ask my sister out?”

Dani groaned, desperately wishing she could mimic a chameleon by blending with the nearby flowering lantana bush. Before she could safely duck inside the house without anyone being the wiser of her presence, her neighbors slashed their attention her way. She was fairly certain her cheeks were red enough Graham and Matt would be able to detect their nuclear glow from a mile away.

Matt’s chuckle floated in Dani’s direction. “Just as soon as we’re certain she’ll say yes.”

Her pulse revved at the wickedness of his expression and the resulting heat wave that swamped her body. There was no mistaking the blazing interest he and Graham had leveled on her. Since they’d moved in roughly a year and a half ago, they’d attempted to lure her to the Dark Side with a steady dance of flirtation, so she had a bad feeling those twin sparkles of determination in their eyes bode an outright war against her resistance. But that’s precisely what she needed to cling to. With every ounce of her being. Tempting as the two delicious hunks were, she couldn’t give in to her attraction to them.

She was well aware of the kinky things that went on in that house across the street. It wasn’t that she necessarily went out of her way to be a Peeping Tom, but when you had neighbors who didn’t bother to close the blinds you noticed things. Things that left you embarrassingly aroused and in desperate need of a cold shower or quick session with your battery operated boyfriend. 

The first time she’d accidentally witnessed Matt and Graham skillfully tag teaming a woman together she’d been too shocked to immediately process what she was seeing. The lights had been dim enough in their living room she’d even considered the possibility that she was misreading the situation. But it became crystal clear they weren’t playing a new version of Twister when they’d put the woman on her knees and Graham settled behind her while Matt stationed himself in front of the female. Even without the benefit of twenty-twenty vision, Dani saw a whole new side to her neighbors she sure as hell hadn’t been expecting. Every square inch of Dani had been hot and tingly by the time the woman ducked out the door, barely able to walk straight and a goofy grin on her face. 

Certain that they’d somehow know what a perverted snoop she was, Dani hadn’t been able to look Graham and Matt in the eye for an entire week. She’d gotten over her guilty conscious soon enough, but the impromptu peep shows provided by her neighbors and their lady friends proved to be a rare treat. Still, spying on them was one thing. Joining in the action? That would be a hell to the no. She needed to be a responsible role model for Erin. And floozying it up with Graham and Matt in a three-way fling sure as hell wouldn’t accomplish that.  

Besides, she wasn’t cut out for the whole one night stand scenario. And that’s all it would be with her hunky neighbors...one sweaty, sinful night sandwiched between two smoking hot men who stared at her like they wanted to spend the entire evening setting her bedsheets on fire.

Totally unproductive thought. Gulping, she tore her focus from Graham and Matt and slunk back inside the house. Snicking the door closed, she thunked her forehead against the whitewashed wood grain. Why must fate be such a devious bitch? Florida was full of retirees. Why couldn’t her neighbors be a pair of old coots who owned a closetful of lime green Bermuda shorts and compression socks?

Grumping under her breath, she detoured to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the fridge. She twisted off the cap the same instant the doorbell chimed. Heart knocking, she stared in the direction of the front entry. Safe to say that wasn’t the milkman.

“Thanks a lot, Erin.” Grumbling, Dani shuffled to the door. A quick peek through the peep hole confirmed her suspicions of who stood on the other side. Sending a memo to her hormones to get a damn grip, she sucked in a deep breath and swung open the door. She returned Matt and Graham’s megawatt grins with her own wobblier version. “Hey.”

His gaze sparkling, Graham propped one hand high up on the doorframe, the position hiking the hem of his tank top. “Hey yourself.” 

An endless moment passed while she stared transfixed at the intriguing peppering of dark hair that formed a happy trail down Graham’s washboard abs and disappeared beneath the low-slung waistband of his navy blue cargo shorts. His pointed cough snapped her from her trance. The muggy heat contributing to the warmth already occupying her cheeks, she lifted her focus and met his amused regard. 

The tiny upward hitch at the corner of his mouth did funny things to her tummy. “We couldn’t help but notice that your bush is in need of a little TLC.”

She double blinked. “Uh, what?”

He cocked his head toward the flowering lantana to the right of him. The wicked glint in his whiskey-hued irises verified that he was plenty aware of his double entendre. “Wouldn’t take us but a minute or so to shape it up.” 

“That’s incredibly nice of you guys, but—”

“Consider it a trade,” Matt offered.

She frowned. “For what?”

“The empanadas that your sister promised you’d bring when you come over for dinner tonight.”
She stifled a groan. “Please tell me Erin didn’t invite us over.” It’d be right up her sister’s alley to do something both embarrassing and rude, all while not giving a hoot. 

Graham shook his head and chuckled. “Just you.” 

His clarification instantly deflated her sharp bloom of relief. I’m going to kill Erin. Plain and simple. “Look, I don’t want you guys getting the wrong idea about what she said earlier.”

“You mean asking you out?” Matt’s teeth flashed brilliant white against the sun-bronzed backdrop of his complexion. This up close, she easily detected every glistening bead of sweat dampening his sculpted pecs.

Do not allow yourself to be distracted by gorgeous man titty. She nodded vigorously, both at her inner reprimand and Matt’s question. Best to nip this in the bed—bud! Get your mind out of the gutter.—before she gave in to the urge to offer herself up as a human towel. “Erin likes to instigate things.”

“Yeah, but I happen to think she’s got the right idea. So does Graham.” Without warning, Matt’s fingers closed around hers. She jolted at the unexpected skin-on-skin contact, but it was the lazy stroke of his thumb along hers that spurred her fluttery intake of breath.

His smoky blue gaze locked with hers, he pried her bottle of tea from her frozen grip. He lifted the beverage to his mouth and took a swig. Normally she’d be completely miffed at anyone brazenly availing themselves of her drink without asking permission. But the provocative sweep of his tongue over his bottom lip left her too brain-addled to care.

He passed the bottle back to her. “Dinner’s at eight. Don’t forget the empanadas.”