My Studs in Spurs series FREE READ “8 Second Ride” starring that sexy young Rookie of the Year Chase Reese is now available for download in PDF and HTML format from All Romance eBooks.
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6 DAYS AT #1 AND COUNTING. LET’S BUCK!
Bucked (Studs in Spurs, Book 2) is #1 at My Bookstore and More for 6 days in a row. Looking for more than an 8 second ride? LET’S BUCK!!
BUCKED
(Studs in Spurs, Book 2)
by Cat Johnson
This cowboy is looking for more than just an eight-second ride.
Mustang Jackson does two things well—ride bulls and love women. So the injury that takes him out of the arena leaves him only one way to make a living. Unfortunately, getting paid to be a stud in front of the camera isn’t as fun as private conquests. When he catches sight of little Sage Beckett, minus the glasses, braces and pigtails he remembers, doing time in his hometown suddenly gets a lot more interesting.
Sage had a crush on Michael long before he started using that ridiculous nickname “Mustang”. Though from what she’s overheard about his string of buckle bunnies, the man more than lives up to it. In the past he always looked right through her. Now that he’s home again, she’s determined to capture and tame this wild stallion, no matter what it takes. She intends to satisfy her curiosity and move on, but with every touch she’s less sure she’ll ever purge him from her system. Once corralled in her arms, Mustang finds himself thinking that domestication may not be so bad after all. Except, once she finds out about his side job, she may not stick for the next go-round.
Warning: Contains one well-hung cowboy riding much more than just bulls, some ménage action in front of and behind the camera, some whips and chains and some red-hot cowboy loving.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Bucked:
“So what are you going to do now?”
That seemed to be the question of the night. Mustang looked up to find Chase watching him with concern. The last thing he wanted was pity. He forced a smile.
“First, I’m gonna find me a woman and get laid. An injury is like a magnet for chicks, especially on the night it happens. Gotta take advantage of it while I can.”
Shaking his head, Chase broke into an awed grin. “You are the master, Mustang. I bow to you, man.”
“Stick with me, kid and I’ll teach you all I know.” His smile was genuine now.
Glancing around the bar and looking for likely candidates, Mustang noticed Chase’s two friends. Garret and Skeeter seemed to be trying for a pair of hot girls who looked like they’d rather be elsewhere.
He shook his head. “Didn’t those two learn their lesson about picking up girls out of their league yet?”
Chase leaned back against the bar and laughed. “Guess not. It’s fine with me if they get shot down again. We’re all sharing one room. If they hook up, I’m out in the cold, or sleeping in the bathtub tonight. So which woman are you gonna go for?”
Mustang took a sip and browsed the many choices. Taking a young rider under his wing and teaching him the art of seduction was bringing back the thrill that had been missing for him lately. He nearly forgot about his arm, but not quite.
“You tell me, kid. If you could have any woman in here, which one would you want?”
“That’s easy. I picked her out the minute she walked in the door. Actually, I spotted her in the stands back at the arena.” Chase’s gaze skipped directly to a table in the corner where a mature brunette was seated next to a man. She looked a good fifteen years older than Chase.
The kid really did stick to the same type. This woman looked a lot like Jenna. It was no secret Chase had a huge crush on her back in Tulsa.
Mustang swallowed another mouthful of beer. “So why are you way the hell over here and not over there talking to her?”
Chase’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Because she’s here with a guy.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Are you crazy? You can’t hit on a woman in front of her boyfriend.”
“Well, no you shouldn’t do that. In that case, you wait for her boyfriend to go take a piss and then you hit on her while he’s gone.”
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Paperback Coming December 2010
Editorial Reviews:
From Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
BUCKED introduces all new characters you’ll fall in love with…and gives readers the opportunity to revisit all of the characters you know and love from UNRIDDEN. Cat Johnson once again proves she’s an author who has staying power. I can hardly wait to find out what her next story will involve.
From Fern, Whipped Cream Long and Short Reviews
Hot diggity dog, do I love me some cowboys, and no one writes about em’ better than Cat Johnson… Fans of Ms. Johnson’s previous stories will enjoy Bucked, especially if they have a yen for Mustang like I do. The material flows nicely, the continuation is something new and unexpected, and the journey is one worth taking.
Sexy Saturday-win an eCopy of BLISS
Here’s the deal… Promo Goddess Stella Price came up with this idea and invited us, her author friends, to play along. Each Saturday a bunch of us will post a portion of a sex scene on our blogs. You, our lovely readers, read the scene and then post a comment with what song you think would best fit the scene. I will choose one winner at random from all the comments received before midnight Sunday eastern time, then post that winner on Monday. That winner will have one week to email me to collect thier prize, which will be whichever book I am giving away that week.
Got it? Good. Here’s today’s scene from my newest paranormal release, BLISS. The winner will receive a PDF of Bliss. And don’t forget to visit the blogs of my friends, Stella Price, Tilly Greene and Bianca D’Arc.
Love’s Immortal Pantheon, Vol. 3
Psyche, Adelfa, and Bliss. Three beautiful sisters. One timid, one selfish, and one caring; but all three hungry for the pleasures of the flesh.
Upon gazing at her beauty, Eros, the god of love, demands the virginal Psyche be brought to his bed. Never mind that this is in direct defiance of the all-powerful goddess Aphrodite, who loathes her earthly rival.
Psyche has her own feelings about whose bed she’d rather be brought to, and it’s not that of the mysterious being who summons her. Led by Bliss, the three sisters hatch a surprising deception of their own that will hopefully satisfy all their needs.
Lust. Jealousy. Betrayal. Sex. Lies. Love. The truth will be revealed in the end, but will they all survive it?
Excerpt (RATED: Mature for adults only)
She waited for him inside. The woman with the face that had Aphrodite green with envy. Psyche, the creature who made his heart soar, and she was his. Even the arrival and intrusion of her entourage into his sanctuary didn’t diminish the happiness of finally having her.
It had been all Eros could do to stay away until full darkness. Now, he needn’t delay any longer. Psyche lay waiting in his bed. Yet still he stood on the wrong side of the door. He pressed his palm against the wood and willed his wildly beating heart to calm.
Feeling ridiculous for hesitating, he grabbed the doorknob. He’d bedded countless women over the millennia. This one would be no different. The falseness of that idea screamed through his brain. This one was vastly different. This was the woman he’d defied Aphrodite for when he stood before the goddess and swore Psyche was taken care of. That she would never be seen by a mortal man again. That wasn’t a complete lie as she would be his, and he was an immortal. Though he doubted Aphrodite would appreciate the technicality.
Putting the goddess out of his mind, Eros entered the room and moved into the blackness. The illumination from the stars shone through the window opening and allowed him to see just the outline of the wide bed draped in white gauze. He aimed for the bulk of the mattress.
A fluttering began low in his belly when he thought about what it would mean to love her in complete darkness. Would every other sense heighten because he’d deprived himself of seeing her? He shuddered in anticipation of the coming pleasures.
After reaching the bed, he slid his hand along the coverings, seeking her, but he found only the cool, smooth bedding. No warmth. No body of the woman he craved. “Psyche?”
“Here.” Her voice, barely louder than a breath, originated from the dark corner to the side of the window.
Eros moved toward the sound, careful to not step into what little light came from the night sky through the opening. She couldn’t see him. His lie to Aphrodite depended on no one, not even Psyche, knowing the man to claim her would be him.
Hands extended, he eventually found her there in the corner and finally touched the object of his desire for the first time since laying eyes upon her beauty. Had it been only that very day? It seemed as if it had been far longer than that since she had entranced him. “Love, here you are.”
He heard her swallow before she answered. “Yes.”
Smiling, he ran one hand up to cup her face. He felt the softness of her hair.
“You don’t talk very much, my lovely, but after having met your extremely verbose sister, I think I’m grateful for that fact.” She drew in a sharp, audible breath and he regretted the statement. “I apologize. She is beloved to you and I shan’t speak ill of her again.”
Beneath Eros’ fingers, she trembled. He opened himself, seeking the cause. Her emotions flooded him, a tangled mix with fear dominating all the rest. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. You do believe that, don’t you?”
“Y-y-yes.”
The pounding of her heart vibrated through the hand he had pressed to her back. He sensed the doubt that told him her answer was less than truthful. That pained him.
“No, you don’t believe it yet, but you will, in time.” He bent his head low and breathed in the scent of her. Clean cotton, lavender water, and woman. The hand on her face traced a path down her throat to her collarbone, before breaking away. His hand roamed lower, down over her curvaceous hip and she trembled harder. A thought struck him, one that hadn’t occurred to Eros before. “Am I the first man to touch you?”
“Yes.”
No other answer could have made him happier. He dragged one finger down her arm and felt a shudder run through her. His hand found her cheek again and he leaned in and let his lips brush her jaw, then trail down her throat.
Her head tipped to one side and allowed him greater access. Taking it he stepped closer and let his lips claim hers. He pressed one leg between her thighs as his mouth worked on hers. Her breath quickened and a new emotion flowed from her and through him. Desire. He groaned as her need filled him, mingled with his own, and settled low in his gut.
So hard from wanting her he throbbed, Eros pressed his erection against her hip and felt her reaction to it. Fright mingled with curiosity. “What you fear will only bring you pleasure. I swear to you.”
Doubt radiated from her.
“What will make you believe me? Tell me. What can I do?”
She hesitated. “Maybe if I…touched you first.”
His laughter sounded too loud as it filled the darkened room. “Touch me all you want, my love.”
She began slowly, tracing the tips of her fingers first over his face, then down his chest until she finally ran just the tip of one finger over his length. Eros’ eyes closed from the sensations running through him at even that small contact of her hand on his cock through the thickness of the fabric covering him.
“If you’re going to explore, you need to do it properly.” He lifted the fabric out of the way and placed her hand on him again. She jumped when she connected with his bare flesh.
“There. Now, you can really touch me and see there is nothing to fear.” It took all of his will to continue to speak rationally with her hand on him.
“You’re right. You’re perfectly average.”
Eros choked. “Average?”
“Yes.”
“I assure you, woman, I’m not average.”
Go Find Your Bliss…
It’s already the #5 best seller in its category on ARe. My twisted tale of Eros & Psyche proves that what happens in the darkness doesn’t always stay in the darkness.
Go find your bliss!
BLISS
Love’s Immortal: Pantheon, Vol. 3
By Cat Johnson
GENRE: Ancient History, Paranormal/Horror
Get the eBook at ARe
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bliss-401249-157.html?oid=8
BLURB
Psyche, Adelfa, and Bliss. Three beautiful sisters. One timid, one selfish, and one caring; but all three hungry for the pleasures of the flesh.
Upon gazing at her beauty, Eros, the god of love, demands the virginal Psyche be brought to his bed. Never mind that this is in direct defiance of the all-powerful goddess Aphrodite, who loathes her earthly rival.
Psyche has her own feelings about whose bed she’d rather be brought to, and it’s not that of the mysterious being who summons her. Led by Bliss, the three sisters hatch a surprising deception of their own that will hopefully satisfy all their needs.
Lust. Jealousy. Betrayal. Sex. Lies. Love. The truth will be revealed in the end, but will they all survive it?
EXCERPT (rated G)
Prologue
The soft swish of the door opening told Eros he was no longer alone. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, he let his annoyance be clearly heard by whoever had disturbed him.
“Sigh all you want, Eros, but I’m not leaving. You’ve kept your own council to the exclusion of all others for far too long already.”
In no mood to be social, Eros didn’t bother to turn to face his friend. “I simply find my own council superior to that of any other. That’s all, Erato. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Sorry, but no.” Erato moved further into the room and sat in the chair directly in front of Eros’ chaise, thereby blocking his view of the hills beyond his window. This was the vista he’d spent he didn’t know how many hours staring at of late.
Another sigh emanated from the deep sorrow within him.
“If you insist on being here, at least make yourself useful.” Eros thrust his empty cup forward. When Erato made no move, Eros nodded toward the flagon of wine on the table between them. “Pour one for yourself as well, my friend. It’s from Dionysus. Ever since I ‘befriended’ his maenads they’ve been most generous with his private stock. It does incredible things to a body.”
Erato raised a brow. “I know exactly what Dionysus’ private stock can do, thank you. I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself.” Eros shrugged. He rose and splashed the deep claret liquid into his cup since it had become more than obvious that Erato wasn’t going to. “Though I must warn you that after drinking a bit more of this, I’ll most likely be summoning a few of the serving girls. Given that you don’t partake of orgies any longer since you’ve found your one true love in Acantha, you would do best to leave.”
“I’m not leaving and you’re not drinking any more of that.” Erato rose and grabbed the cup from his hand, sending scattered droplets into the air.
Brushing spilt wine from his hand, Eros frowned. “Why, my friend, would you take your life in your hands and do something so foolish?”
“I’m the only true friend you have. You’d never harm me, and you know it.” Erato scowled, and after placing the cup on a table out of Eros’ reach, sat again.
“Don’t be so sure.” For the first time since the unwelcome intrusion, Eros noticed Erato held a bound ream of paper in his hand. “Is there a purpose to your visit? Or are you here simply to annoy me?”
“Oh, there is a purpose.”
The book in Erato’s hand landed heavily on the end of Eros’ chaise. He barely gave it a glance, instead focusing on Erato. “You are the man of words, oh great muse of poetry. Not I.”
“Read it, Eros.”
He snorted in disgust. “I don’t read.”
Shaking his head, Erato grabbed the item back. “Then I shall read it to you.”
Couldn’t a man be left to wallow in sorrow and loneliness in peace? Eros leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “If you must. Forgive me if I take a nap while you do. I’m suddenly very weary.”
He heard Erato rifling through the pages. The man was actually going to read to him. What lunacy had gotten into his friend? Against his wishes, Eros found himself suddenly curious.
Erato cleared his throat. “My name is not important, but the story I tell is—“
“Not exactly Shakespeare, is it?” Eros cracked open one eye. “Why am I being forced to listen to this?”
“You’ll see.” Erato turned his gaze back to the age-yellowed parchment he held. “I am an old woman now. I feel my death upon me. Almost all whom I know and care for are dead. That is the reason I dare defy the gods and tell the truth which has never been told before. Not another living mortal knows what I do, until now. My tale begins in my youth, when I was a girl of seventeen—”
Eros sighed loudly. “Wonderful. How old is she at the time of the writing? How many years worth of this drivel must I suffer through the telling of?”
Ignoring him completely, Erato continued with the reading. “—working in the palace of the King and Queen of Miletis as a handmaiden caring for their three daughters, Bliss, Adelfa and Psyche—“
His attention captured now, Eros sat up, eyes wide open, his heart pounding. “Where did you find these writings?”
“In Sicily. I was conducting an inventory of the contents of the palace library. I found this hidden behind the books. It appears to have been there for quite some time.”
He eyed the book that most likely held the truth he’d long ago seen buried. The past he’d hoped would stay buried. The memories of which snuck up on him a few times a century and kept him secluded and morose until he could force back the darkness with enough wine and women. “Have you read it?”
“Oh, yes. Every word and I must say for the first time in our long friendship I actually feel as if I understand you, Eros. Now I see why the god of love hates love so passionately.”
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Author site
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Something to warm you on a cold winter day…
A lonely writer, a snow storm and a sexy man with amnesia…all the makings for one hot Christmas Eve! Can Ginny find the inspiration she needs to get her career, and love life, out of the cold?
EXCERPT (G)
When she turned around again, she found him already bundled in the blanket, which was good since she saw his boxer shorts as well as his jeans on the floor. Yup, he was naked under there, all right. Alone, in the middle of the night, with a naked stranger. She should probably be nervous. Ginny’s heart was beating faster, but not with nerves.
Trying her best to ignore the boxer shorts, she retrieved the sopping wet jeans from the floor and hung them from an old nail stuck in the mantle. The family who owned this house probably hung their Christmas stockings there. Ginny hadn’t bothered to hang her stocking this year, but the naked and shivering Christmas gift she’d found in the snow qualified as the best thing she could imagine filling her stockings anyway.
Sitting down next to him, she found the couch literally vibrated with his shivering. “How do you feel now?”
“Cold.”
Short and to the point. She wondered if he was always a man of so few words or if hypothermia caused it. Oh, well. She considered herself a flexible kind of girl. She could deal with either a talker or a quiet man. Besides, verbal ability in a male was overrated, anyway.
“I think your core body temperature dropped too low. You must have been out there for quite a while before I found you. We have to warm you up somehow.” The stove in the kitchen operated on electricity so she couldn’t make him hot tea. Her fire looked pathetic, so she couldn’t even warm the kettle in the hearth like some pre-electricity pioneer woman. That left only one thing for her to do.
“The boiler in the basement won’t work until the electricity comes back on so I guess we’re going to have to share body heat.” Still clutching the blanket for dear life and shaking, he watched her wide eyed as she stood and stripped out of her own jacket and began to unbutton her pajama top. She paused. “Close your eyes.”
He half laughed, half chattered. “You’re going to crawl under this blanket with me naked to warm me up but I can’t watch you undress?”
“That’s correct.”
Download the eBook at
Unridden Excerpt 3
UNRIDDEN
eBOOK AVAILABLE MAY 26th from Linden Bay and MBaM
Excerpt PG17
“You wanna go over the notes we made in your book some more?”
“No,” she answered Mustang simply, noticing Slade’s eyes rarely left her.
Mustang ran a hand down her arm. “Why not? Because of what I said? I told you I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about when it comes to romance novels. Don’t listen to me.”
She scowled. “No, you’re right. It stinks.”
“It doesn’t stink. It just…”
Jenna interrupted Mustang. “It doesn’t matter because even if I can come up with a better story idea and get it written before the deadline, you still said the sex sucks.”
“You said the sex sucks?” Slade accused Mustang.
Looking uncomfortable, Mustang turned to Slade. “I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s what you meant.” Jenna pouted.
“No, it wasn’t.” He shook his head.
“It’s okay, Mustang, it’s true.” Jenna sighed again. “My sex scenes are boring.”
“I wouldn’t say boring…” Mustang began.
“No, it’s fine. That is exactly what one reviewer wrote. Boring.” Jenna snorted out a bitter laugh.
Mustang ran a finger up and down her arm until she looked at him again. “Not boring. Just…two-dimensional. The mechanics are there but all the other stuff is missing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What other stuff?”
He grinned. “All the good stuff.”
“I need a little more than that, Mustang.” Jenna scowled. She felt more frustrated than she’d been in a long time. In so many ways.
“Come here.” Mustang held both of his hands out to her. She hesitated, then stepped forward, into his arms. He pulled her closer and said, “Good. Now, close your eyes.”
Jenna swallowed hard and did as she was told.
She sensed Mustang moving even closer. When he spoke he was near enough to her face she could smell the beer he’d drank at the bar. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Nervous. Horny. All things she felt but wasn’t willing to admit aloud. Maybe that wasn’t what he meant. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okay, I’ll go first, then it will be your turn.” Mustang took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I can smell your shampoo. It’s something fruity but nice, light. I can see the pulse pounding in your throat. Fast. Mmm. I like I make your pulse race, darlin’.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she managed to say.
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t. Okay, what else? I can feel you shaking a little bit—I like that too. And your lip gloss…” His tongue tickled her lips and her eyes flew open at the contact. He pulled back just enough to say, “It tastes like berries. See, darlin’? Smell, sight, touch, taste. That’s what is missing in your book. Sex is more than just body parts.”
Oh my God. Jenna felt her lower parts heat. She was so aroused at this point if he even touched her she would come right there on the spot. This cowboy ten years her junior, most likely a player who had a different girl in his bed each night, knew more about not just sex but sensuality than she did.
She glanced over to where Slade still silently watched them, glass in hand, a tempting erection clearly outlined in his jeans. Jenna swallowed hard and looked back at Mustang as he spoke to her again.
“Now your turn, darlin’. Close your eyes.”
Jenna frowned. “You were allowed to keep your eyes open.”
Mustang grinned down at her from so close his impressive erection pressed into her hip. Judging by the physical evidence, it seemed the arousal was equally spread all around among the three of them.
As she fought the urge to reach down and touch Mustang and feel what had inspired his name for herself, he nodded his head. “Yes, I did keep my eyes open, but I’m better at this than you are. You need all the help you can get. You can skip the sight part and just do the other senses. Now, eyes closed.”
With a scowl, Jenna let her lids shut. Mustang’s hand moved from her arm for a moment, then returned, right before a second hard body pressed close against her back and another pair of arms slid around to envelop her from behind.
Slade. He laid two large hands firmly upon her body, pressing one very low over her quivering stomach, and the other slightly higher, just below her breast.
“What do you feel, darlin’?” Mustang whispered, his breath warming her throat where it touched even as a shiver ran through her.
Heart pounding, Jenna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can feel your breath, warm against my skin, tickling my throat.”
Jenna sensed Mustang smile. “Good. What else?”
“I can feel Slade’s heart beating against my back. He smells like a mix of whisky and something else, something fresh and clean. It’s either soap or deodorant, maybe, but it’s nice. And I feel him…his…you know…pressing into me.”
Slade drew in a sharp breath. She’d give anything to reach back and touch him. All of him. Jenna satisfied herself with laying her one hand over his and, making the boldest move she’d ever taken, guided it up and over her breast. He released a shaky burst of air, then Mustang’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“What else, darlin’?” Mustang continued.
This is it. Now or never. Jenna took the plunge and let one hand stray down between them, pausing in the vicinity of his erection.
“I can feel you against my hip. You’re hard…” she swallowed, then continued, “and big.” Not circus freak big, which is kind of what she had been afraid of when contemplating this threesome, but definitely bigger than the average man.
Mustang’s deep laugh vibrated through her, as did his voice, low and husky as his mouth hovered near her face. “Ah, darlin’, you are right about that. I am both. Very. You think you can handle it?”
“Please. I’m not one of your eighteen-year-olds. I’ve got toys under my bed bigger than you.” Jenna put on an exaggerated scowl, playing with him.
Mustang’s deep chuckle reverberated through them both. “Good to hear, darlin’.”
UNRIDDEN EXCERPT #2
UNRIDDEN
Studs in Spurs Book 1
By Cat Johnson
A contemporary cowboy ménage
eBook available May 26th
When country boys meet a city girl, everyone is in for a wild ride.
Studs in Spurs, Book 1
Slade Bower and Mustang Jackson are living the high life on the professional bull-riding circuit. The prize money is big, the bulls are rank, and the women are willing. But something is missing.
For Slade, waking up in a different city with a different woman each morning is holding less and less appeal. Even Mustang’s creative attempts to shake things up don’t help. Then along comes a big-city author who’s like nothing they’ve ever encountered. Something about her makes Slade sit up and take notice—and Mustang is always up for anything.
Romance writer Jenna Block has a problem: her agent thinks a cowboy book will jump start her career. A born New Yorker, Jenna doesn’t do cowboys, not on paper, and definitely not in real life. Luckily for her there are two cowboys ready, willing and able to take her out of her comfort zone in every way that counts…and some ways she hadn’t counted on.
Warning: This story contains two hot cowboys, one very lucky woman, hot ménage sex, and lots of bull.
Excerpt (PG 13)
“So we have to formulate a plan,” Mustang began.
“For what?”
“To reel in that woman I told you about.”
“Just do whatever it is you usually do.”
Mustang shook his head. “The usual bullshit isn’t going to work on her.”
Slade sighed. “Where did you say she’s sitting?”
Ha! Slade had given in and was actually showing some interest. Smiling, Mustang narrowed his eyes and easily found her again in the stands. She was writing feverishly, while trying to watch the rider in the arena at the same time. He tilted his head toward the section directly behind them. “Far end of the fourth row.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Slade frowned as he watched her.
“Hell if I know, but I think she’s taking notes. See what I mean? This woman is special. She isn’t going to just fall into our bed.”
Her hair wasn’t huge, she wasn’t made up like a showgirl, and her clothes showed curves, but not an inch of skin. She was different, which was what drew Mustang’s attention to her in the first place.
Since Slade had been in his strange funk lately, Mustang figured he’d try something unusual. Hell, even the two eighteen-year-olds going at each other in front of them barely got a rise out of Slade. Mustang was running out of ideas, but this woman…she was pretty much the opposite of their usual conquest and that might be exactly what they needed. It was worth a shot to cheer Slade up. Besides, never opposed to trying new things, Mustang could use a bit of a change himself once in a while.
“Mustang, she’s probably a damned reporter. That’s all I need, to be featured in some exposé. I can see the headline now. Slade Bower, third ranking bull rider in the world, propositions reporter for a threesome with former Rookie of the Year, Mustang Jackson. That will go over real well with the fans in the Bible Belt.” Slade scowled at Mustang. “Pick someone else, man. How about the one bouncing up and down over there? She’s about to pop right out of that top. You might want to keep an eye on her.”
Mustang glanced her way. “Yeah, I saw her already. I’m set on the other one.”
Laughing, Slade shook his head. “Good luck ‘cause I can just about see the stick up her ass from here. That one is wound tight, but you go for it, man, and I’ll enjoy watching you get shot down.”
Mustang raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, my friend?”
Slade let out a short laugh. “No, it’s the truth.”
“Well, I think you’re wrong. Sometimes it’s the quiet ones that are the wildest once you get them naked.”
“And you think you can get her naked?”
Mustang nodded. “Yup. I do.”
“Well, I’d like to see that.”
Grinning, Mustang slapped his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. You’ll be there too.”
Slade shook his head. “Maybe, and that is a big maybe, you might be able to get that woman naked, with enough alcohol and bullshit, but no frigging way will she agree to both of us. Never in a million years.”
Feeling cocky and never one to resist a challenge, Mustang said, “We’ll see. You willing to make a bet on that?”
Slade crossed his arms across his chest. “Yes, we will see and, yes, I am. What do you want to bet?”
Mustang grinned. Slade was showing more interest in their extra-curricular activities than he had in weeks. Maybe Slade had really just been bored like he said. Perhaps what they both needed was a good challenge. Mustang knew to his core this woman would provide at least that, but more than likely, so much more.
Now, for this bet… “How about loser has to buy the winner a new pair of chaps?”
Slade grinned. “I could use me a new pair of chaps, so you’re on.”
Glancing back at the stands to search again for the object of their discussion, Mustang frowned. Where the hell was she? “She’s gone! Shit! Where did she…”
Mustang spun back to Slade and found guess who standing right there.
“Excuse me. I was wondering if I could ask you two a few questions.”
UNRIDDEN EXCERPT #1
UNRIDDEN
Studs in Spurs, Book 1
Excerpt (G)
“So? What did you think?”
Much like an accused man watches the faces of the jury returning with a verdict, Jenna Block held her breath as she studied her literary agent’s expression and tried to determine the answer to her question.
Marge Collins of the Collins Agency had a reputation for not pulling any punches. Swallowing hard, Jenna guessed Marge’s tightly pursed lips and hesitation were not good signs. She had a feeling her delicate writer’s ego was about to get a lesson in humility.
The manuscript sat on the desk between them like an eight-hundred-pound gorilla. Her agent sighed. Another bad sign.
Suddenly feeling like a child seated in front of the wide desk, Jenna straightened her spine. Was her chair lower than Marge’s? That sneaky, power-grabbing ploy on the part of her agent wouldn’t surprise Jenna one little bit.
Marge peered over top of her reading glasses. “Jenna, there’s really no market for straight contemporaries right now.”
Jenna frowned, confused. She’d assumed the sale of this book would be a slam dunk.
“There was a market last year when you sold my last straight contemporary. In fact, you had no trouble selling my last three novels.”
Marge nodded. “You’re right, but the trend in the industry has shifted.”
“In under a year?”
“That’s why it’s called a trend, I guess.” She shrugged.
Biting her lower lip, Jenna tried to digest the idea of totally scrapping the novel she’d spent a considerable portion of the last year writing and starting fresh with a new one. In a different genre, no less. The thought had her stomach twisting with dread. How in the world was she going to write a new book and get it sold before this apparently fickle and ever-changing romance market shifted yet again?
Hesitantly, Jenna asked, “So, what is the new trend?” Please don’t say historical romance. She absolutely loathed research; one reason why she wrote only contemporaries.
Marge leaned back and steepled her fingers. “The publishers want cross-genre, out of the box stories.”
What the hell did that mean? Panicked, Jenna did her best to keep her expression neutral. “Okay, like what for example?”
“Well, I just sold an erotic, multi-partner, paranormal romance with elements of bondage about pirate vampires in space.” Marge waited expectantly, as if Jenna would leap up and say that she had written a book just like that and had it stashed under her bed.
Jenna sat perfectly still, hoping her face didn’t show her horror. Bondage issue aside—how did one research that subject—her brain stalled on visions of her brother hiding the remote control and making her watch agonizing hours of the SciFi Channel on television when they were kids.
Science fiction. Ugh. Was she destined to now spend her days penning tales of horny vampire space pirates?
Jenna swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat. “Um, anything else selling?”
Marge shuffled a few pages on the desk. “There is a publisher who put out an open call for submissions for their new cowboy line of romances.”
Cowboys. Okay, she could do cowboys.
“Space pirate cowboys?” Jenna probably asked that last question with a bit more attitude than was wise considering her writing career and the fate of her future manuscripts were in this woman’s hands.
Eyes narrowed, Marge pursed her lips but answered her anyway. “No. Regular cowboys.”
“Contemporary or historical?” Jenna could fake knowing about cowboys. She’d just have them wear jeans and boots and chew on a piece of hay or spit tobacco or something. However, writing about the old west would require actual research. Even if Jenna had the desire, she didn’t have the time for that. A writer was only as good as her most recent book and too much time had already passed since her last release.
Marge finally ended Jenna’s suspense. “Any genre is fine, so long as it has a cowboy theme.”
That was good news at least. Still overwhelmed by the idea of starting over from scratch, Jenna let out a sigh. “When’s the deadline for submissions?”
Marge glanced down at the paper in her hand and cringed. “A month and a half from now.”
“A month and a half!”
“Can you do that?” Marge raised one eyebrow dubiously.
With a romance convention coming up out west, book signings scheduled, on top of radio interviews and a virtual tour online to various chats and blogs, Jenna had countless other things to do over the next few weeks besides plotting out and completing this new book. She wasn’t a slow writer, but she wasn’t super fast by any means. “What length are they looking for?”
Again, Marge consulted the paper that had delivered more bad than good news so far.
“They want between fifty and sixty thousand words. And they’re looking for stories that are fun and light in tone.”
Jenna snorted out a laugh. “Fifty thousand words in a month and a half on top of everything else I have going on? It’s going to be light. Don’t worry about that.” She sure as hell didn’t have time to do heavy, though she doubted anything about this would be fun.
Rising from her seat, Jenna let out an overly loud breath. “I guess I better go home and get started.”
There went her plans for some retail therapy in the stores while she was in the city for the day. She would have to hop right on the next train and get back to her laptop at her condo in the suburbs.
Marge pushed Jenna’s manuscript across the desk. “Don’t forget this.”
Jenna eyed the sheaf of papers with sudden, undeserved hatred. “Don’t you want to keep it, just in case?”
“I guess I could try to dump it on one of the smaller, indie e-publishers. Most of them don’t pay advances, but it’s better than nothing. Send me the electronic file when you get home and I’ll see what I can do.”
Dump it. Great.
Jenna forced a tight, and far from sincere, smile. “Thanks, Marge. You’re a sweetheart.”
“No problem, Jen. See you in six weeks.”
Marge slid her glasses back up her nose and turned her attention to the next stack of papers on her cluttered desk. Apparently Jenna had been dismissed. Stifling a groan, she mumbled a goodbye and gladly retreated from the office.
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