Meet Trixie, the feisty heroine of Sayara St.Clair’s newest release, Master Me
Monday, January 29th, 2018




(Dante’s Purgatory, Book 3)

By Sayara St. Clair

Trixie Meier, a club submissive who’s tired of being pushed around, has decided she’d rather be on the other end of the whip. She’s set her sights on Xavier Adams—the most enigmatic and unapproachable man in the club. Xavier’s a regular Mr. Darcy. If Mr. Darcy was covered in tattoos, wore black leather, and was built like a Sherman tank.

Xavier has skeletons in his closet. He’s done bad, bad things. And though Trixie might be feisty and off-the-wall, she’s way too sweet for the likes of him. That’s what he tells himself just before he starts stalking her.

When Xavier finds out Trixie doesn’t want to submit to him, but wants to master him instead, he thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. Because a big, scary guy like him, submitting to that tiny, crazy-ass woman is just ludicrous. Right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Conversing with Xavier Adams is as about as effective as talking to a brick wall. A sexy wall, that smells really good and makes you want to rub yourself up against in a completely inappropriate and pervy manner.

Not that there are many ways to rub yourself against a wall that aren’t inappropriate and pervy.”

—Trixie Meier


“Trixie Meier is a kind, generous soul. She helps people, is a vegetarian because she can’t stand the thought of animals being hurt, and she hugs puppies in her spare time. She’s as sweet as they come—way too good for a guy like me.”

—Xavier Adams


“I love rock climbing, skydiving and anything that gives me an adrenaline rush. Now I want to dominate Xavier. Wonder if I’m taking this “I love a challenge” attitude a little too far.”

—Trixie Meier


“Trixie wants to dominate me?

She’s the craziest bloody woman on the face of this earth!”

—Xavier Adams





W.T.F?! “X-X-Xavier?”


Trixie let out an explosive breath, like a sigh being shot out of a canon. “Motherhumping shit-biscuits, you scared the crap out of me!” She clutched her chest and doubled over, feeling as though her heart was going to explode.

Then Xavier was right beside her, one big hand on her shoulder, the other rubbing her back, and he was saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

They stayed that way for quite a while, with him rubbing her back in comforting circles and telling her that everything was okay in his deep, rumbly voice.

When her heart rate calmed and the adrenaline wore off a bit, though, Trixie started shivering again.

“Hey, you’re freezing.” Xavier stood and pulled her to her feet. He rubbed up and down her arms vigorously to generate heat, then wrapped his arms around her and hugged.

Trixie was still for a moment, just absorbing the feeling. Xavier was so ridiculously huge, she felt smaller than she ever had before. But instead of it being threatening, she felt safe in there, all wrapped up in him.

There was a question that needed to be asked, but not wanting to ruin the unexpected Xavier-hug moment, she burrowed her nose into his chest and breathed him in. He didn’t smell of cologne, just natural man scent that screamed big alpha male. And sex. It definitely screamed sex.

But while Trixie was contemplating generating more heat by rubbing up against his thick, hard…thigh, he disengaged.

Damn it all.

He bent down and pulled a stupendously large anorak from a duffel bag at their feet. Then he put her in it, dressing her as though she were a doll. And she didn’t give a shit because it was Xavier, and he was interacting. Plus, she wanted to know what he was going to do next. The whole situation was intriguing. Apart from the screaming bit at the beginning, because holy exploding inflatable butt plugs, that had been frightening to almost soil-your-pants proportions.

What he did next was turn on a camping lantern, and then he started building a fire where Trixie had built one the previous night.

He was deft at fire building, that was for sure, and Trixie realized just how attractive that trait was. Her inner cavegirl was obviously rising to the surface. Next, he’d be hunting and bringing her a dead animal to eat, and she’d be all, “Oooh, ah, you’re my hero.” Even though she didn’t eat meat. Perhaps he’d kill her a “tofudebeest,” like the one in her favorite Gary Larson comic.

She chuckled at the mental image of the three pissed-off lionesses when they realized they’d killed one of the Serengeti’s “obnoxious health antelopes.”

“What are you laughing about?” asked Xavier over his shoulder.

“Ah, just pondering a tofudebeest, actually,” she answered, getting ready to explain the concept.

“By Larson?”

“Oh my God, yeah, that one. You like his stuff?”


“I have a book of his comics that I used to read when I was a kid. Still do sometimes, when I need a laugh.”

“Me too,” he said, and started pulling food out of his duffel bag.

What the dickens was happening here? They were…bonding…over shared experiences? Humorous comic books, no less. Plus, Xavier was preparing food. And talking.

Speaking of talking—there was a matter of the question that needed asking.

“Xavier, what are you doing here?”

He stilled in the act of opening a can of baked beans. She watched his very broad back and waited for an answer.

“I’m making dinner.”

Trixie huffed. “Obviously. But why are you out here at this particular spot, at this particular time? Are you stalking me or something?”

Xavier got to his feet and slowly turned to face her. He fixed her with one of his stares. There was something going on behind those eyes, but it was nothing she could interpret. Because she didn’t speak Xavier stare.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

Trixie raised a brow. “I go camping all by myself quite often, thanks.”

Xavier didn’t respond.

“No, seriously. I do it all the time.” She stood up straighter in his anorak, which probably made her look like an upright infant wearing a one-person tent. “I like being alone out here. I don’t need anyone to come save me.”

“You were lying out in the open, in the dark, fast asleep and freezing.”

“That’s only because I felt as if someone,” she didn’t say the word, but the “you” was loud and clear, “was watching me. So I came outside to make sure they couldn’t take me by surprise in the tent.”

“And you fell asleep.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was tired, okay?” She was pretty embarrassed about that, and the pitch of her voice edged toward whiny-ness.

Xavier walked over and stopped right in front of her. As he studied her, she wondered why that light-blue gaze of his didn’t seem so icy all of a sudden?

“I know,” he said in a quiet voice. “Things have been a bit rough for you recently.” And then he palmed the side of her face and rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb along her cheek with gentle strokes, over and over.

Her insides did a few backflips, her nipples stood up and cheered, and she held her breath, waiting for the fireworks to start shooting out of her pants. Holy pyrotechnic punani protectors! He just had to rub her face a little, and she turned into a one-woman Fourth of July parade.

Trixie had no idea what the hell was going on. Color her confused.

Yup, if there was a confused crayon, you could color within her lines and call her done.

Something made a weird squealy noise over by the fire. “I forgot to poke the sausages,” said Xavier as he spun around and went back to his camp-dinner preparations.

He forgot to poke the sausages.

Trixie had obviously entered the twilight zone.

She went over and hunkered down next to him as he stabbed at the hissing meat cylinders. “I can’t eat any of those sausages, but thanks for bringing stuff. I can have the beans…oh, and the bread!” she said excitedly, spying a gorgeous-looking, floury loaf sitting there.

“You can have them. They’re soysages.”

Trixie blinked.

Screw the twilight zone. This was an alternate universe! He’d stalked her and brought her soysages? It was an unusual combination, she had to admit. But Trixie liked unusual, so meh, whatevs.

“Did you hunt the tofudebeest yourself?”

“Maybe,” he answered, keeping his focus firmly on the foodstuffs.

“You’re my hero,” she announced as she gave a clap. Her inner cavegirl was silent, too busy picking out fur area rugs for the cave they were gonna be moving into together.

Trixie thought she saw the side of Xavier’s mouth curve ever so slightly, but it was more likely the flickering light of the fire playing on his face.

Then, just like a regular pair of domestic prehistoric partners, they finished preparing the dinner in silence, each mulling over their own thoughts.

Trixie had another burning question she wanted to ask, though. And knowing Xavier wouldn’t answer it directly if he could avoid doing so, she went about it all stealthy-like. As he handed her a plate piled with food, she accepted it with thanks, but followed up with, “I’m not really that hungry, you know.”

Sitting down beside her, he said, “You should be starving by now.”

“No, I’m quite full, actually.”

“How can you be?”

“I ate a lot today. Three squares.”

“No, you didn’t. You only ate a granola b—” He stopped himself, looking extremely annoyed at his slip-up.

Gotcha! Plus…holy crap! He was stalkier than she’d first imagined. “How long you been spying on me, Mr. Adams?”

He speared a soysage. Put it in his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed.

Trixie waited. She was used to waiting for Xavier to speak, but now—for a change—she was expecting him to eventually answer.

“A while.”

He was talking, but she shouldn’t be expecting miracles.

“Where exactly were you last night, Xavier?”

A hunk of bread, torn with his teeth. Chew, chew. Swallow. “Over there,” came the eventual answer, with a chin tip in the general direction.

Okaaaay. “And how’d you find me?”

“Your aunt Rozlyn.”

Trixie was going to ask more about that, but made the quick decision to quiz Aunt Roz when she saw her instead. Because in the forthcoming stakes, Aunt Roz would beat Xavier by a country mile.

She ate quietly for a while, letting Xavier recover from the last three questions. She felt that she should treat him carefully, like a wild animal she wanted to pet, but knew would get freaked out and run away with too much forced contact. She had more questions, though, for later. Many more. What in the devil’s digs is happening here, being the most pressing one.

Usually, Xavier’s aversion to chatting irritated the heck out of her. But at that particular moment, she didn’t mind the silence.

She, herself, was a total chatterbox. Aunt Roz could talk the hind legs, ears and tail off a donkey. The Doms at the club were constantly blabbing at her, “Do this, do that, and now the other thing.”

Her family talked. Every one of them. All the time. Mostly it was creative ways of tooting their own horns. Blah blah, I’m so damn impressive. All in code, of course, so as not to be blatantly obvious. But the message was always received loud and clear. She seemed to constantly be surrounded by people who kept missing good opportunities to shut the hell up.

But Xavier was a quiet and somehow soothing presence. It was actually nice.

After dinner was finished and everything had been washed in a bucket of water, dried and put away, Xavier produced a packet of marshmallows. He got a couple of long sticks, poked a marshmallow on the end of each and handed one to her.

She opened her mouth to say she’d toast it for him, not wanting any for herself because of the animal products they contained, when Xavier said, “They’re vegan ones; no gelatin.”

Trixie’s heart did a crazy little twirl.

Usually when it came to Xavier, it was Trixie’s loins and panties that were affected. This behavior, however, was hitting her somewhere else altogether.

A man could buy flowers and chocolates for any woman—every woman—but Xavier’s offerings of soysages and gelatin-free marshmallows showed specific thought for Trixie. Beneath Xavier’s tough, indifferent shell, there was quite a measure of caring and thoughtfulness hidden.

She wanted to delve into him and discover more, but the thought of her heart getting involved was a tad unnerving.

Her inner cavegirl, though? She gave no shits. That little ho just wanted to lift up her… Wait, what would a vegan cavegirl even be wearing? Not an animal skin. Maybe something with leaves. Whatever.

Anyway, Caveslut was falling onto her back and throwing her legs wide open.

Trixie watched Xavier out of the corner of her eye while she held her stick over the flames. He was staring at his marshmallow and…was there a slight curve to his lips? Must be the flickering light again, playing tricks on her. But when she turned to face him fully, it was definitely there. This guy who never smiled was getting amusement out of a heated marshmallow. Honestly, he was like the world’s biggest conundrum.

Which bizarrely made him even more attractive.

“How do you like yours?” asked Xavier.


“Your marshmallows—how do you like them?”

“Oh…a bit charred on the outside.”

He blew on his and then held it out for her to nibble off his stick. Trixie hid a grin of her own at the nibbling-off-his-stick thoughts. However, her humor evaporated as she watched him watching her, while she ate what she was fed.

In response to both his proximity and his interest, she was being all sexy—until a gob of melted stuff plopped onto her chin. She made a move to swipe it off with a finger, but Xavier grabbed her hand.

No,” he said, his voice commanding, almost vehement.

He rose to his knees and leaned over her, bracing his hands on the ground to either side of her hips. And then he swiped his tongue ever so slowly up over her chin, licking the melted treat from her skin.

He stared at her, his irises like blue fire—an unearthly flame that she knew, without doubt, was going to burn her into freaking oblivion.



SPECIAL DEAL ALERT: To celebrate the release of Master Me, the e-book version of the first in the series (Hurt Me, Heal Me) will be reduced to only $0.99 from the 23rd until the 29th of January!

Get it here: Hurt Me, Heal Me Kindle Countdown Deal.



What people are saying about the Dante’s Purgatory Series:


“St. Clair writes in a way that is deeply alluring and keeps her audience thoroughly engaged and anticipating what could come next. I highly recommend this story and author to not only readers of erotica but all lovers of drama, and impeccably written stories. This was an easy five stars. A brilliantly crafted story!” –Author Angel Strong


“While I imagine many will read the book for the sex scenes, it’s the emotional aspects that hook me (and the prose. Ms St. Clair knows how to write—and write well).” – Author Anna Belfrage


“It’s the kind of story-telling that marks a first-rate writer. I can say with absolute certainty that it made me a fan of Sayara St. Clair.” –Author Ken Stark


“A dazzling story of love and desire.” –Author David Lucero


“It’s breathtaking and heartbreaking. It’s all-consuming. It’s everything any one of us could ask for in a novel, and so much more.” —Bloggers From Down Under



About The Author

If someone told a young Sayara St. Clair that one day she would be an erotic/paranormal-romance-writing Aussie expat living in Thailand, she would have snort laughed and yelled, “You. Be. Crazy!”

If someone told her the same thing now, she would not yell, only nod solemnly. Because that actually happened.


Sayara has a science degree, with majors in both microbiology and biochemistry. Working in the fields of serology and tissue banking, she got to do lots of cool and sometimes slightly weird stuff. She was employed as the manager/buyer for furniture retail stores, where she had a chance to unleash her inner interior decorator. (Interior design is one of her great passions.) And for a time, she taught English to students in Asia. (Hanging about in a roomful of extremely loud, pint-sized humans is not one of her great passions.) She has written: ads for TV, print and radio; real estate brochures; website copy; and a screenplay. Now she’s writing fiction and has discovered it’s her favorite thing to do. She’s also learned that writing sultry romances is so much more fun than writing dry old scientific journal articles. No one has sex in scientific journal articles. Not the ones she wrote anyway.


When not writing, she may be most commonly found in a horizontal position reading, in the kitchen baking, in the garden planting, or somewhere else singing at the top of her lungs. She loves music and is prone to spontaneous bouts of dancing.


With regards to vampires and chocolate: she bites one on a daily basis and has had a lifelong obsession with the other. And she’s not telling which one’s which.



Note from the author: I laughed like a loon while writing this book. I also cried. And fell a little in love with the characters. I really hope you enjoy reading Trixie and Xavier’s story.

x Sayara





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Last chance for a 99 cent shopping spree!
Saturday, January 27th, 2018

Books #1-4 of The Phoenix Agency series are still on sale for 99 cents, but time is running out.

Only 4 more days, including today, to sweep them up.

Just who is The Phoenix Agency?

They served their country in every branch of the military—army Delta Force, SEALs, air force, marines. They are pilots, snipers, medics—whatever the job calls for. And now as civilians they serve in other capacities, as private consultants training security for defense contractors, as black-ops combatants eradicating drug dealers, as trained operatives ferreting out traitors. With the women in their lives, each of whom have a unique psychic ability, they are a force to be reckoned with. Risen from the ashes of war, they continue to fight the battle on all fronts.

They are Phoenix.


Jungle Inferno

For Faith and Mark, the telepathic connection they’d shared for years was nothing compared to the scorching physical connection they realized as adults. From the first moment they came together, erotic was too pale a word to describe their relationship. Together they explored each other’s deepest, darkest desires. But now Mark, survivor of an ambush to his Delta Force team, is a prisoner of a terrorist group in the Peruvian jungle, and his telepathic communication with Faith is his only contact with the world. While she searches for help to save him, they survive on dreams that took them beyond all sexual boundaries. Can she persuade the men of Phoenix to undertake a treacherous rescue and bring Mark back to her arms?




Mia Fleming’s precognitive visions about Carpenter Techtronics are so vivid, she resorts to sending anonymous emails to the company. She’s also having visions of a gorgeous man who arouses her to the point she’s satisfying herself just to get some relief. She’s shocked when the man shows up in her office, demanding to know what she knows about Carpenter.

Dan Romeo is just helping his friend track down the person threatening his company when he meets Mia. One look at her and he has a hard time thinking about anything but indulging in off-the-charts sex with the intriguing woman—until bodies begin falling. As Mia’s visions escalate, so does the explosive sex between her and Dan, as well as an unexpected emotional connection. When Mia is almost killed, Dan and his team must race to find the culprits before they can strike again—or put Mia down for good.



Scent of Danger

Kelly Monroe was shocked when her dog, Xena, a Caucasian Ovcharka seemed to bond at once with Rick Latrobe, a partner in the high profile Phoenix Agency. Ovcharkas are known for linking with only their owners. But Xena is picking up Rick’s wave length, very much aware when an attempt is made on Rick’s life, and driving Kelly crazy with signals of danger regarding Rick’s current project, ferrying a shipment of arms to a private security cadre in Iraq. Rick is nearly killed when the shipment is stolen by terrorists who are hot in his trail. Only Kelly and Xena, coached by members of The Lotus Circle to expand the psychic link between the three of them—can keep him safe. As Rick scrambles to learn who’s behind the whole mess, the relationship he and Kelly have deepens. But Xena is the real star, not only signaling when danger is at hand but “sniffing” out the killers.



Freeze Frame

Katherine “Kat” Culhane was a highly sought after remote viewer, but her gift was beginning to splinter, and just at a time when she needed it the most. Her sister Mari, along with Mari’s employer and his family, have been kidnapped. But Mike D’Antoni, a partner in the shadowy Phoenix Agency, is suddenly back in her life and could be the only person to help find the hostages. The chemistry between them is just as hot as it ever was, but they parted on very bad terms. Can they put the past behind them as they race to find and rescue the hostages? And what will happen when it’s time to say goodbye again?


Join The Phoenix Agency Reader Group and download the graphic to become a Special Agent. And meet the authors creating wonderful new stories.


Once upon a time
Tuesday, January 23rd, 2018

Want to be on Cupid’s Team?

Read everything below and then check out what you need to do.

First, the story

A freezing winter’s night, a hot stranger and a sexy female with erotic plans. One hot Valentine’s Day coming right up.

When Jessie Rawlins’ boyfriend dumps her just before Valentine’s Day, she ends up by herself at her isolated cabin in Maine with all the trappings for the holiday—including a bag of kinky toys—and no one to celebrate with. Then a snow storm dumps gorgeous Riley Malone on her front porch. Running from a broken relationship himself as well as a business partnership gone bad, Riley thought his good luck had run out. Until fate—and Cupid—strands him at Jessie’s cabin.

What woman hasn’t fantasized about having a sexy, handsome stranger come out of nowhere and rock her world? When Riley shows up on her doorstep, frozen half to death, Jessie knows exactly how to warm him up. But will Riley want to play along with the games she’d planned for her Valentine’s celebration? A night of hot, erotic, sizzling sex answers that question. But what will happen when the day for lovers is over, the storm is gone and it’s time for him to be on his way? Will he take a piece of Jessie’s heart with him, or will Cupid’s arrow strike them both?

Now the history and the campaign

I think everyone who is my Friend on Facebook knows a bout nay. battle with Amazon to remove an outdated one-star review that didn’t even discuss the story. So let me give you some background.,

Once upon a time…….

2006 was a memorable year for me. Although I did not go to the RWA conference that year, serve of my RWA chapter friends had gone and were talking about Ellora’s Cave call for open submissions for Valentine-themed Quickies. (No, not what you think! That’s what they called novellas under 15K!) . At the time EC was the top of the ladder for erotic romance and did not have open submissions. I asked one of my friends to email me the specifics so I could look at them. My late  husband was still with me then and was reading over my shoulder.

Him: “Are you goin g to try to write for that?”

Me: “I don’t know. I’ve never written anything that spicy or explicit.”

Him: “You can write anything you want. You should try for it.”

(Has there ever been a man who believed in his wife so strongly? I still feel his presence.)

Me: “I’m  not sure I know where to begin.”

Him: “Just buy two or three, read them, and you’ll figure it out.”

And that’s what I did. I submitted Cupid’s Shaft in September then sat back and waited. And waited. And waited. Actually it was only five weeks but to me it seemed like five years. But then, hurrah! Joyous excitement! I got the email offering me a contract for Cupid’s Shaft. The story released February 14, 2007 and was an instant hit.And Ellora’s Cave asked for another for a wedding-themed series. Desiree Holt’. career as an erotic author was born.


Fast forward to 2014. Cupid’s shaft was among the first group of titles I received the reversion of rights to from EC. But I say with it, deciding what to do. Other things came into my life and it continued to sit. Then EC closed its doors forever and I had avenues to release those old titles. Totally bound (love you guys) contacted several of them, including Cupid’s Shaft.

February 13, just in the for Valentine’s Day 2018.

However….isn’t there always a however?

Amazon in its wisdom migrated JUST ONE of the many reviews from the older edition. And damn! It’s a on e-star, that slammed the return process, not the book. So we need to get the word out. Here’s is what yup can do:

I am looking for 12 Cupid’s Arrows! yes, arrows who will point at the reading audience.

I have 12 ARCs to give to the first 12 people who reply. In return, all I ask is that you post an honest review on release day (Feb rural 13). But it must go up release day.If you are Goodreads, I ask that you post it there.

And everyone who responds to this will et a copy of Quarterback Sneak, and read about a s sexy quarterback and how he made Valentine’s Day work for him.

Oh, and be sure to leave your email in your comment.

Ready? Set? Go!

Hot new paranormal to warm your nights
Thursday, January 18th, 2018

Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge

Will Daphne heal the man who ruined her life?

Release date: January 18



After a year of unemployment, Daphne Wells comes to Wiccan Haus to learn hydrotherapy for a new career as a healer. When her assigned patient turns out to be the sexy ex-boss who laid her off, resentment gets in the way of healing.

Giovanni Denaro arrives at Wiccan Haus, desperate to find a cure for the debilitating tension that threatens his high-level financial career. But after some intimate healing sessions, everything loses value except his need for Daphne’s forgiveness.

When a mermaid, filled with her own bitterness, offers Daphne a chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her life, will she dare to turn the tide?



“What happened to you?” she asked.

“I had Myron give me a reading about the stock market. Apparently, it fell a lot today.”

“Hello? It’s been doing that for years.” She raised an eyebrow. “It always rallies, doesn’t it? Are you sure nothing else is bothering you?”

Nothing but the truth. The ugly reality that would turn her gentle eyes into hard pools of hatred. He couldn’t help crying out as the biggest cramp yet squeezed his body. She crouched over him on the stone bench, one leg on either side of him.

After crying out, too, she collapsed on top of him and laid her damp cheek against his. “Tell me what to do for you,” she said in a strangled whisper. “Or I’m calling the guys.”

Having her weight on him made breathing even harder, but feeling her soft skin was worth it.

“Kiss me,” he whispered back.

Her mouth covered his so fast it stole what little breath he’d managed to draw. Her lips were salty with tears. Nothing had ever tasted so good. He drank from her—her love, her healing, her very essence.

She shifted her pelvis, sliding it over his hardening cock. When the indentation in her blue terry cloth shorts contacted the head, he pushed, needing to enter her more than breath.

“I need—” he gasped.

“What?” When she dragged her torso across his chest, he felt her erect nipples through both their shirts. “Anything, Giovanni. I’ll do anything for you.”

Instead of replying with words, he forced his hand down the back of her shorts and gripped the sweet curve of her buttocks. The scent of her arousal mingled with the misty air, impossible to ignore.

“Yes,” she cried, swinging a knee to one side of him and tugging down her shorts.

His groin clenched at the sight of her wet panties. Knowing he’d aroused her so much gave him ten times more power than running a high-level board meeting. With one hand, he pulled up her white tank top so it rested above her breasts. With the other, he helped her out of her shorts and panties.

He’d never grow tired of gazing at the thatch of neatly shaved hair between her legs. It looked as businesslike as the suits she used to wear to work. How often had he fantasized about undressing her when he was her boss? Now he knew how those tantalizing dark hairs felt and tasted slipping across his tongue.

One by one, his muscles eased their tension from pain to anticipation. His cock was so wet with pre-cum when she grasped it, her palm slid to his balls in a single stroke. Although his neck still hurt, he lifted his head to gaze at her rosy nipples and the puckered skin around them. Droplets of mist from the hot water spring jet on their side of the pool dotted her smooth skin, making her resemble a goddess.

“Protection,” he muttered, letting his head drop back to the hard bench with a smack. “We don’t have any.”

“Yes, we do.” With a hand still on his cock, she rummaged in the nearby towel cabinet with the other. “They’re hidden in here.”

She wouldn’t have known exactly where they were unless she’d considered using them with him. More pre-cum pooled on the head of his erection. Finally having her, after years of lusting for her, was more than a fair exchange for missing critical time from work.

To hell with the truth. He’d tell her afterward.


Intrigue! Hot bodyguards! Danger! Check it out and win a book!
Monday, January 15th, 2018

Win a copy of Raw Edge of Fear, Book #1 in my Omega Team series. Print copies US and Canada only. Digital copies will contain instructions to get a digital author signing.

Do you know there are under the radar companies in the United States (probably everywhere) that provide security not only for private citizens and corporations but for the government as well? Think about it. There are things the government cannot do that nevertheless are a danger to this country if left untended. oft en security is needed or dangerous missions are required that must be off the books for the Central Intelligence Agency or the State Department. Who do they contact? Companies like Vigilance, a private agency located in the sleepy Florida beach town of Arrowhead Bay. All its agents are former military and are well-trained in everything it takes to be a Vigilance agent.

Why did I name the agency Vigilance? Because vigilance is defined as the action or state of keeping careful watch for possible danger or difficulties.

In March Book 2 in the Vigilance series, Without Warning, will release but it is already up for preorder. Grab a copy of Book #1, Hide and Seek, and preorder the next one.


Anything can happen when you let your guard down . . .

After receiving a violent threat on the heels of her father’s disappearance from the town of Arrowhead Bay, Devon Cole fears for her life—until Vigilance, a local private security agency, steps in to shield her from danger. Although she isn’t usually quick to surrender her freedom, she has no problem stripping her defenses for her new sexy bodyguard . . .

Tortured by the painful memory of lost love, Logan Malik is determined not to fall for a client again. So when he’s tasked with watching over Devon day and night, he’s focused on doing his job. Day is no problem, but as tensions rise at night, nothing can protect them from giving in to unbridled passion . . .







Avery gave her a studied look. “I think if we get some coffee into you it might settle your nerves. Although I have to say, you’ve done a damn good job of not showing them.”

Coffee. That sounded wonderful. She would kill for a cup right about now.

Clanking sounds echoed in the air and when she looked over she saw the driver hooking up her vehicle. She’d have to make some kind of arrangements for a rental to use until it was fixed. She’d ask the March sisters who in town handled that. Someone would have to give her a ride back to the house, too, but right now Logan and the sisters were huddled in discussion. She wondered what on earth that was all about.

More clanging and grinding from the tow truck got everyone’s attention.

“I’ve got ‘er all hooked up,” the driver called out, “and I’m ready to leave. I’ve got your cell number, Miss Cole. I’ll call you when the mechanic assesses the damage.”

“Thank you. Listen, where can I rent a car in this town?”

She couldn’t be without wheels. Right now she’d get one of them to give her a ride back to the house, and she’d make a call and take care of it. She pushed herself out of the truck, then had to lean against the open door, surprised to find she was lightheaded and unsteady on her feet.

Avery was next to her in a hurry, reaching out to steady her. “You’re okay. Take a breath. Delayed shock, and probably adrenaline crash.”

“That’s what Logan said before. Holy Hannah!” She put a hand to her forehead.

Avery looked her over to make sure she was steady on her feet. “What’s up?”

“I need a ride back to the house.”

“Devyn, you can’t go back to that house alone.” Avery looked at her sister. “Right, Sheri?”

“Absolutely. Until we know what the hell is going on with your father, it isn’t safe for you to be there alone. Those guys from today aren’t finished with you.”

She’d been afraid of that. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“I’ll stay with her.” Logan’s deep voice startled her.

Devyn stared at him. “What?”

He grinned. “Looks like you need a bodyguard. That’s part of my job.”

“B-But I can’t pay you,” Devyn protested.

“Did I say anything about money?” He glanced over at Avery. “I just finished a job and I have nothing up on the books right now. This okay with you?”

Avery shrugged. “Hey, it’s your time. And I agree she needs protection. God knows who else is out there waiting for her. And let’s not forget the reporters hanging around.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Devyn was independent but she wasn’t stupid.

Logan’s mouth curved in that killer smile again. “Say ‘Thank you, Logan. I’d love to have you stay at my house with me.’”

A little shiver of anticipation raced along her spine, making her wonder if she’d truly lost her mind. She needed to focus on something besides how sexy her new bodyguard was. But then she thought about what had brought her to this point. The chill that raced over her had nothing to do with sexual awareness and everything to do with fear.