Teaser Tuesday: Sam & Gibson from BREAK ME DOWN

 


It's Teaser Tuesday time! How about a new snippet of Sam and Gibson from BREAK ME DOWN, the novella coming out in October?

Sam set the beer in front of Tessa and then finally turned to Gibson. She kept her smile poised, but it took everything she had to keep her composure when Gib looked up. He’d let his jaw go a little scruffy, and the dark shadow of a beard only made him more edible. But the look in his eyes was what sucked the air right out of her. So this was what a gazelle must feel like when a starved lion caught site of her. Hunger had flared in that deep blue gaze—open, naked, and without apology.

God. A jolt of desire went straight downward, like a rope being tugged. Hello. Lady parts officially engaged.

 She must’ve reacted, showed some chink in her expression. Because as soon as that look was there, he shuttered it, glancing away and offering a flat, “Hey, Sam.”

Everything inside her deflated—the pin of reality popping the balloon of hope. Ugh. Stupid, stupid man. She wanted to grab that thick dark hair and make him hold the gaze, force him to show her the truth. To be real with her. But of course, she couldn’t touch him anymore. And well, that would look a little weird in the bar. Sexually frustrated manager grabs customer by the hair, makes demands. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, completely forgetting her plan to look seductive and so over him. “Crown and water.” 

She plunked the glass on the table without grace, causing some of it to slosh over the top.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. 

Silence ensued and Tessa cleared her throat. “Um, do y’all still have those potato things with the bacon? I’m starving.”

Sam snapped out of her daze and turned to Tessa. “Potato skins. You bet. I’ll tell Angie to put in an order. She’ll be handling your table. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

Gibson took a long gulp from his glass and then brushed a hand over his wavy hair, trying to smooth the unsmoothable. A move she’d learned was his sign of discomfort. God, this was so ridiculous. 

And she was done with it. So things had gotten a little out of hand during that last training session. He’d been helping her out, bottoming for her so she could learn how to use a whip. They’d been through a few weeks of lessons and everything had gone well. All had been done under the assumption that he was a fellow dominant who would be guiding her from the bottom—a friendly exchange. He wasn’t supposed to get hard when she whipped him. And she wasn’t supposed to get so turned on at the sight of him. And they weren’t supposed to kiss. And she definitely wasn’t supposed to let him push her against a wall and put his hand beneath her skirt to get her off.

But all that had happened, and when she’d tried to wrest control back and take him to bed as her submissive, everything had exploded in her face. He’d snapped out of whatever spell he’d been in from the whipping and had told her that nothing could happen between them because they were both dominants. That he had a masochistic streak not a submissive one. The training had ended right there. And she might’ve been able to let it go, to buy that he was just a dominant with a taste for pain, but her instincts were telling her it was far more than that. Not that it mattered what she thought. For whatever reason, he wasn’t going to take the submissive role. Period. End of sentence.

She wasn’t worth the risk to him.

Fine.

“Is there anything else I can get y’all for now?” she asked, her voice coming out a little too bright, too twangy. Damn, she was going Dolly Parton on their asses. Usually that only happened when customers pushed her to her politeness breaking point. Of course I’ll get your hamburger recooked a third time, sugar. I should’ve known when you said medium you meant fossilized.

Tessa’s brow went up, seeing right through Sam’s act.

“No, I think we’re good, Sam.” Kate cut an annoyed look his brother’s way.

Sam hustled back to the safety of the bar, cringing at how easily she’d gotten knocked off her plan. Damn that man.

 

 

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Hope you enjoyed it! Have a great Tuesday! I'll be starting chapter one, page one, word one of a new book today. Always terrifying. :)

 

 

Teaser Tuesday: Meet Dr. Donovan West of OFF THE CLOCK

 

I'm back from the RWA confernece in NYC and it's Teaser Tuesday time! How about a sneak peek of Dr. Donovan West from OFF THE CLOCK?

This one is out in January and the start of my new Pleasure Principle series!

From OFF THE CLOCK:

Donovan stared out the window at the grounds and tucked his hands in his pockets, centering himself and bringing the focus back to the task at hand. “I want you to succeed here, Marin. Don’t doubt that. I’m going to train you to the best of my ability, and I have full confidence that you’ll catch on quickly. As for our past, I think we’re both grown-ups and can leave that where it is.” He paused, trying to let go of his dour thoughts and channel some levity. He smiled at his reflection in the window. “Unless you need to profess some undying love that’s been burning for me since you let me divest of your virginity?”

*

Marin’s whirling work-related thoughts skidded to a halt, all of them falling off the edge at Donovan’s comment. Her lips parted.

But Donovan spun around, a devilish smile on his handsome face and his hands still tucked in his pockets. “That’s how it’s supposed to go, right? The guy who takes the V-card always has a special place. Research has proven it.” He put his hand on his chest. “Come on, did you write my name in your notebooks with a heart around it? You can tell me. I’m a doctor.”

A choked laugh escaped her. “Research doesn’t say any such thing. Plus, your name would be too long to fit in a heart. And if you recall, I walked away from you that night, doctor. So you were probably the one pining over your misguided night with a teenager.”

He chuckled, the sound as rich and warm as she remembered. It softened some of those hard edges he’d acquired in the years since she’d known him, gentled the icy blue in his eyes. “Of course I was. There was bad poetry written. Sad songs played. I went through this weird emo/goth phase. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I’m sure,” she said dryly. But let out an internal sigh of relief at his shift in mood. This was the Donovan she remembered. He was still in there somewhere. She could work with that guy. She wasn’t so sure about the other.

He grinned, unrepentant. “See. You’re going to do just fine. There are two important requirements to work in this field: shamelessness and a sense of humor.” He raised a finger. “Oh, and the ability to keep a straight face no matter what.”

He gave her a super-serious therapist face.

She tried to give her own back to him, but she lost the staring contest and laughed.

He pointed at her. “All right. Elephants slain?”

He still hadn’t told her what he’d been doing in the parking lot in that half-dressed state, but it really wasn’t any of her business. “Sure. Bleeding on the floor.”

“Aw, poor elephants.”

He slipped off his suit jacket, hooked it around the back of his chair, and sat behind his desk in one gracefully executed maneuver—all confidence and swagger. The accomplished doctor. The ridiculously beautiful man. Donovan West was pure impact.

She had a feeling he was probably loved or hated around here, not much in between. He was a man who inspired reaction. He’d sure as hell always inspired one in her. Just not one that had any place at work.

Stop it. She sat up straighter, studiously ignoring how well his shoulders filled out that dress shirt, how the blue of his tie matched his eyes, and how his dark hair looked thick enough for her fingers to get lost in. Nope. Totally wasn’t going to pay attention to any of that.

 

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Have a great week!

TEASER TUESDAY: A peek at "House Call" the short story

 

 

Today for Teaser Tuesday, I'm giving you a little peek at "House Call" -- this is the bonus short story in the back of the paperback version of CALL ON ME. For those of you who read the series, this is Dr. Theo Montgomery's story, the smug but submissive doc who shows up in FALL INTO YOU and NOTHING BETWEEN US. Enjoy!

 

From "House Call" short story in CALL ON ME (paperback edition):

There was a flicker in his gaze—worry. It looked out of place on him. “Mistress, please make an exception.”

“Why?”

He looked away, jaw tightening. 

She took a few steps forward until she was right in front of him and snapped her fingers, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. “If you expect me to consider it, you will look at me and tell me why.”


He turned his head toward her—the fight within him visible in the tense lines of his face. He was a proud man, one who was used to everyone deferring to him, but his submissive streak ran deep. He wanted to fight. He wanted to please. “I had a bad day at work and could use a distraction.”

She kept her expression smooth even though a little surge of victory went through her that he’d actually given her an answer. “Tell me why it was so bad.”

His jaw twitched. The request was razor close to the one that had made him use his safe word last time. She braced herself for him to bail. Instead he said, “Tell me why you stopped taking clients.”

Her lips curved. “You’re not the one who gets to make the commands in here, Theodore. But maybe if you comply with mine, I’ll consider answering.”

He sent her a steely look—one that she’d normally happily punish him for—but she hadn’t agreed to play with him, so she couldn’t go there. Their gazes held for a long moment, a silent war, but finally, he said, “A patient died on my operating table tonight. I had to tell her husband and daughter.”

Maggie’s lungs squeezed tight, all the breath whooshing out of her. “That’s awful, Theo. I’m sorry.”

He shifted, obviously uncomfortable with her sympathy. “Part of the job, Mistress. We all have our own ways of dealing with it.”

And his was getting the hell beat out of him by her. She didn’t blame him. If she had to face that kind of thing every day, she may need those memories beaten out of her, too. But that didn’t mean she could do this. 

She grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it over so she could sit in front of him instead of looming over him. What she was going to say wasn’t coming from Maggie the domme but Maggie the woman. “Thank you for telling me. I stopped taking clients because a guy got angry one night when I wouldn’t perform according to his wishes, and he backhanded me, split my lip.”

Theo’s attention snapped upward, fire in his eyes. “Someone hurt you? Who the f**k was he?”

The fierceness in the words took her breath for a second—the cool doctor looking like he could turn violent offender on her behalf if he got the guy’s name. She wet her lips. “Who it was doesn’t matter. The staff jumped in immediately. I wasn’t hurt badly, just a little shaken. And a lot pissed. The guy was banned from the premises. But after that, I decided I didn’t want to take money for this anymore. I never did this to be a performer in someone’s play. And it was beginning to feel like that’s what it had become. So now I know that when I scene, I’m doing it for me and the person I’m with. It’s real.” The last part slipped out and she winced inwardly. “Not that what we did together wasn’t real—“

He lifted a hand. “I’m well aware I was paying you for a service, Mistress. I didn’t assume it was anything more than that.”

No, apparently it was her job to weave fantasies that their business arrangement was more. She blew out a breath, unsure what to say. 

Theo put his hands to his knees and nodded. “All right. I understand. I appreciate you telling me. Though, these are the times I wish I were one of the doms. I could order you to change your mind.”

She laughed. “You realize that would so not work on me, right? I’d tell that dom to take his riding crop and shove it in his special place. You’d have a much better chance of persuading me than they would.”

Theo lifted his head, and the little quirk of his lips could’ve been mistaken for a smile. 

The sight nearly knocked her out of her chair. Goddamn. He was dangerously good-looking on any day. Broody and smug worked for him. But hell if that little hint of humor in his blue eyes didn’t take the wind right out of her.

“Thanks for that, Mistress.” He stood. “I hope you have a good new year.”

“I—“ Seeing him head toward the door sent a sharp dart of panic through her. She’d been enjoying this—a taste of a real conversation with him. And she had a feeling if he walked out, he would never be back to see her. “Wait. I didn’t say you could leave yet.”

He turned, one eyebrow lifted. “I apologize. May I leave, Mistress?”

She stood, trying to gather her courage. She’d put this man on her knees, had put her hands on him, but doing this was giving her heart palpitations. She cleared her throat. “We’ve both had long days. I’m really ready to get out of here. But what if…well, there’s a little diner up the road from here. They serve great pie. We could, you know, go have some pie together.”

God. Her inner cringe was absolute. Badass domme, step side, awkward teenager is here to humiliate you and undermine all street cred you’ve built with this man.

Theo looked stricken for a second then his expression closed down. He tucked his hands in his pockets. “That’s generous, Mistress. But I don’t…have pie with people.”

She frowned and put a hand to her hip, considering him. “You realize the pie wasn’t a euphemism, right? There will be actual pie involved.”

That half-smile appeared again but with a somber edge to it. “I don’t date.”

Her lips parted for a second at that bomb. “Like ever?”

“Ever. Goodnight, Margaret.”

Her given name on his lips sent a warm curl of awareness up the back of his neck. He’d never called her anything but mistress. She hadn’t even been sure he knew her name. But before she could respond, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door.


She stared at the empty doorway for a long minute. If she walked out to the main floor, would Theo be setting up an appointment with another domme? Would he let someone else exorcise his bad day? The thought sent a wash of hot jealousy through her.

She sighed and leaned against the wall. “Give it up, girl. You asked him out and he shut you down. You were just the hired whip. Let it go.”

Great. Now she was talking to herself. 

She massaged her brow with her fingertips, exhaustion settling in like a wet coat. She needed to get home and get to bed. 

And she definitely needed to forget about the doctor with the ridiculously hot body and the haunted eyes.

Wrong tree. No barking allowed.

 

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Have a happy Tuesday!

 

 

 

Teaser Tuesday: CALL ON ME is only a week away!

 

 

Guess who's only a week away? Pike! So today I thought I'd give you a peek at Pike playing drum, the heroine Oakley, and for those who've read YOURS ALL ALONG, a little cameo by Devon.

 

Excerpt:

“So,” Devon said, obviously searching for a change in topic, “you know a guy in the next band?”

“The drummer. He’s the one helping out with that music project at Bluebonnet. He gave us tickets, thought Reagan might have fun.”

Dev’s eyebrow arched. “Right. Because he thought your kid might have fun.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Guitar chords blasted through the speaker for a moment as the crew on stage did the sound check. Oakley turned her head as the big screens on the side of the stage lit up with a publicity photo for Darkfall—the wind making the screens ripple and the bodies in the picture come to life. The crowd cheered.

“Look, mom!” Reagan shouted back at her. “It’s Mr. Pike!”

“I see, baby.” Boy, did she. The larger than life image had Pike staring down the camera with his bandmates. Badass. Tough. Beautiful.

“Which one is he?” Devon asked, following her gaze.

“The blond.”

“Whoa,” he said low enough for the kids not to hear. “You had that guy over for pizza and managed keep your clothes on? You have more restraint than I do.”

He had no idea. “I have no interest in being a groupie.”

“Can I be one?”

She shoved his shoulder. “You’re such a tramp. I’m so telling Hunter when he gets back in town.”

“Tell him. He’d agree. But seriously, is the guy a jerk? He looks like he has high potential to be an egomaniac. I don’t want that kind of guy around my baby sister and niece.”

She frowned and dragged her eyes away from the picture. “Oh, he’s got an ego, all right. He’s entirely inappropriate most of the time and a shameless flirt. But I wouldn’t say he’s a jerk. He’s kind of, I don’t know, weird and manic and…funny.”

Devon tipped up the bill of his hat, eyeing her with a sly smile. “Oh, so we have a mad crush then?”

“What? No.”

“Oak, you’re here in the Texas heat at a hard rock festival. You don’t even know these bands. And a few weeks ago, when I asked if you wanted to take Reagan to see that 80s cover band, you told me she was too young for concerts.”

Oakley crossed her arms. “Rae has since proven her maturity.”

He smirked. “Bull. Shit. You’ve got the hots for this guy.”

“He’s not my type.”

Dev shook his head and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so the kids couldn’t hear. “Come on, don’t freak out about it. You work too hard and spend too much time alone. This could be good for you.”

“An ill-advised hookup with a drummer who will drop me as soon as he gets bored could be good for me?”

“Exactly. Look, I know I’m your brother and shouldn’t be saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with a finding yourself a hot, temporary fuck buddy.”

“Dev!”

He laughed. “Oh, don’t be such a prude. I mean, yes, you’re right. The guy’s probably not boyfriend material. But you’re a grown woman and deserve some fun. You know we’re always happy to have Rae over if you need a date night.”

“I think you just flunked big brother school.”

He gave her shoulder a pat. “Okay, fine, want responsible brotherly advice? Use a condom. And don’t let him take video.”

She poked him in the ribs. But before she could respond to his comment, the lights on stage began to flash and the crowd surged forward, excitement like a contagion moving through them.

“Come on, mom! Let’s get closer.” Reagan grabbed her hand and dragged her with the flow of the crowd.

They’d already been pretty close to the stage, thanks to the special passes Pike had sent, but now they were only a ten or twelve rows of people back on the far left side of the stage. Bodies pressed close to them and she couldn’t help but get caught up in the fervor of the crowd.

She pushed onto her toes, knowing the drummer was almost always the first one to come out.

“Is that him?” Dev asked.

“Where?”

Devon pointed to the other end of the stage, and Oakley froze up the moment her eyes landed on Pike. Tight gray jeans, combat boots, and a black sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his ink. All swagger and sex and guyliner. Pike waltzed onto the stage like it’d been built just for him. He lifted his hand in greeting, earning screams from the audience, then hopped behind his drum kit. He put in his earpiece, raised his drumstick, and leaned over to his mic with a cocky smile. “Y’all ready for us, Dallas?”

The crowd erupted. Sound exploded from his drums.

And Oakley forgot to breathe.

Good. God.

The rest of the band ran onto the stage, adding guitars and vocals to Pike’s heavy rhythm, but Oakley barely heard the words.

All she could do was stare. Pike took command of the drums like he had a personal vendetta against them, banging hard and violent but with a sharp-edged grace that made it look like moving art. Every part of his body worked in perfect rhythm—muscles flexing, tattoos dancing, sweat flying—and the expression on his face wasn’t far from what she’d imagined he looked like in the throes of sex. He was taking the songs in his fists and making them his with every swing of his drumsticks.

Oakley swayed on her feet, the pounding beat taking on an erotic edge, vibrating though her and invading her like a drug.

He looked possessed.

He sounded amazing.

And she was toast.

She felt the urge ride up her throat and she couldn’t stop it. Her hands went up with the rest of the crowd and she screamed Pike’s name like a goddamned groupie.

Fucking. Toast.

***

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Teaser Tuesday: Pike from CALL ON ME in all his cocky glory

 

Pike is here in only two weeks!!! Are you ready? Here's a snippet from the king of cockiness...

 

From CALL ON ME:

She startled and stiffened, instantly yanked out of her less than PG thoughts. “What?”

He leaned back in his chair, vague confusion on his face. “I asked if wanted to keep working in that back room? We could rehearse at the studio once they’re close to being ready to record. But until then, it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth to cart everyone over there. It’s not that big of a place.”

“Rehearse in the back room?” she repeated, running the words back in her head to make sense of them. “Oh, right, yes, that’s fine. I’m sorry. I thought you said something else.” 

She eyed the small bellini she’d ordered with her meal. Maybe that had been a bad idea. She was hearing things now.

Screw in the bathroom? How the hell had she gotten that out of what he’d said? Of course, now all she could think of was him doing just that—taking her by the elbow and leading her to that dark alcove at the back of the restaurant, pushing her up against that wall with the faded Italian flag on it and putting his hands all over her. She licked her top lip, tasting the sweet remnants of her drink. Pull it together, woman.

Apparently, once her libido had been brave enough to peep its head out, it had decided it was Groundhog Day and needed to run around, declaring spring was coming early. She hated to break the news, but nothing and no one was coming anytime soon.

“What did you think I said?” Pike took a long sip from his drink, his snake charmer eyes never leaving hers.

She followed suit, hoping the fruity drink would cool off more than her throat. “Doesn’t matter.”

His lips twitched. “You’re all red.”

“I think it’s the bellini. I don’t drink very often.”

“No way.” His expression turned smug. “You thought I said something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” She smoothed her napkin in her lap, trying to loosen the tightness in her voice. “No. Why would I think that? You’ve been very professional since we got here—which I appreciate by the way.”

His gaze slid lazily down her body, like butter melting over toast, and goddamn it all to hell, she could feel her nipples go hard and obvious beneath her bra. No wonder he’d figured it out. Her body was waving all kinds of flags in his face. Hey! Over here! Horny girl, booth eight!

“I am capable of being professional, you know,” he said, but his tone was all sex and sin. “I’m also more than happy to turn that off when the occasion calls for it. So why don’t you tell me what you thought you heard and why it’s gotten you all flushed and nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.”

He grinned.

Dammit. She schooled her face into a stoic expression. “The music is too loud in here. I thought you propositioned me to defile the restroom.”

Hie eyebrow ring twitched. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on with those big, stiff words of yours.”

All she heard was big and stiff at first, but she managed to rein in her temporary insanity. “We’re so not going to do this.”

“Well, probably not here, you’re right. I saw those bathrooms. But—“

“No, I mean, any of this. Flirting. Teasing. Whatever this is.”

He leaned onto his forearms, looking all too pleased that he’d gotten a confession out of her. “You got a guy?”

“No,” she said before she could get wise and fib.

“Then why can’t we do this?”

“Because I’m not interested.”

“Liar.”

She huffed. “Are you always this cocky?”

“No, it’s dialed down right now. I can get way worse.”

She stirred her drink. “Not. Possible.”

His lips spread into a menacing smile. “Challenge accepted.”

***

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**Note: The paperback version will contain an addtional short story that will feature Dr. Theo Montgomery who has show up in previous books.