Catching Up

Well, I've survived the holidays...so far anyway. We still have holiday party number six to attend on Saturday. Yep...that's one work party and five family Christmases. My family is indeed insane, but I adore their crazyasses anyway.

Other than writing like a madwoman and listening to the gleeful sounds of the boys playing Modern Warfare 2 and Halo ODST (all hail the x-box) I haven't been doing much.

But, I do have new cover art to share! Just Right will be releasing from Resplendence Publishing on January 19th as part of the Not Quite Wicked series with three of my fantabulous friends - Brynn Paulin, Mia Watts and Dakota Rebel.

As you might have guessed from the title (thank you Jennifer Armintrout) Just Right is a naughty version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. All the naked on the cover probably gives it away, too. :)

This is pretty much how I've spent my break so far. Trying to write while Herne sleeps on me. It's a pretty comfortable arrangement, unless of course I need a drink or have to pee. Then, there's kitty angst.

Well, back to it - I've got deadlines to meet and cats to appease.

I'd like to introduce...Charlotte Stein!

I'd like to introduce you all to an amazing writer I recently met...well, 'internet met', anyway. :) She's smart, hilarious and she writes a really hot book. I had the extreme pleasure of reading an advance copy of Waiting in Vain (out today from TEB) and I freaking LOVED it. I laughed my ass off all the way through it and was left with a happy sigh when it ended.

I can't tell you how excited I am that Charlotte has joined the TEB family. Please read more about this amazing writer and say hi. Also, I highly recommend that you scamper off to TEB and get your copy of Waiting in Vain!

Tell us about a typical day (and night) in the life of Charlotte Stein.
Weird. Very weird. When I tell people what I did yesterday, their eyebrows always disappear into their hair. Mainly because I’m nocturnal- I sleep all day until about 2pm, then I teach creative writing until about 9pm. Then I play a bazillion games of poker on my DS, or watch something rubbish, like Masterchef, or read, or eat. Then I write from around midnight, to about 6am. This is a very bad routine on the days when I have to get up at 9am.
How did your writing path evolve?

I don’t know, really. I just remember that when I was about ten, I copied the entirety of the story Sleeping Beauty out, into an exercise book. Word for word copy, not a story of my own. When I look back on it now it seems almost like a practice, before the big game that has consumed my whole life. Like I somehow knew that I was supposed to be doing something with a pen, and this was it. By the time I got to thirteen, I’d written an entire and very, very crappy novel about a vampire and his immortal beloved. Because I was so cool, and original. And then I just couldn’t stop.
What type of research do you do for your books?

I have a terrible, awful “fill in the blanks” kind of approach. Instead of the make of gun and how it works, for example, I’ll say this in my story: “She picked up the macguffin and macguffined the macguffin”. And then once done, google that mofo like whoa.

I know. Very, very unprofessional.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

Hot men and my favourite films. No word of a lie. I know some people like to say “the face of my newborn” or “the works of Vladimir Nabokov”. But that’s not me. Whatever man I’m crushing on at that moment- he will inspire me to write a story all about him. And my love of film - Aliens, Return To Oz, Twelve Monkeys, Terminator - fuels the rest. Different images in all of them- things I’ve remembered from childhood. One of the most potent images that has stayed with me for years and years – and that I thought I had imagined – was in the awful eighties nightmare film, My Demon Lover. The guy turns into a demon as the girl runs a hand up his bare back, and as she does, little ridges pop out along his spine.

I’ve never forgotten that image, and what it meant. That a guy was so hot for his girl, he turned into a demon.

I sound like an idiot, don’t I.
Tell us about your upcoming releases?

Well, my Total–E-Bound release, Waiting In Vain, of course! It’s out 28th December and it’s about a girl who gets persuaded to be very kinky and naughty one Christmas eve night, while surrounded by most of her family.

And I have a book from Xcite coming out in Autumn of next year (hopefully! I’m terrified of jinxing myself), called Control. That’s about a girl who can’t decide between a dominant, and a submissive. And all the fun they have together!


What are you working on at the moment?

The aforementioned Control, and something for TEB. Oh, and about a million shorts and novellas for various calls.
What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

There is nothing I like the least. Nothing. This is what I’ve wanted all my life- for sixteen years of writing and never daring to send anything off. Rejections and publishers closing suck, but without them there wouldn’t be the glorious highs.

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

I would likely lecture full time- besides being a writer, I also teach creative writing at a local college.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

Hanging out with my best friend- my husband. Reading, watching movies, watching TV. Playing my DS. I’m not a big party girl by any stretch of the imagination.
Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favourite and why?

Charlotte Stein. Ha! That’s weird, huh? I picked my pen name based on one of the first characters I ever created, and over time she evolved into this weird, cowardly, neurotic, witty little creature, who lives in a permanent eighties B-movie inside my head. So she’s my fave. Her novel is written, but it can never see the light of day.

And then there’s Jake Baum. Because he’s hot.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Keep? Are my love scenes fresh and interesting at all? I don’t even know! But I don’t find it hard to write different takes on love scenes, because for me it’s less about “oh, here’s ménage scene number 186” and more about how did this ménage come about. I want the approach and tension to be there, so that when the sex hits, the freshness will come not from using dick instead of cock, but because the characters have never been to this place before.
What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

Ones about modern day cowboys. I’ll never say that there’s a genre that cannot be written well- Emma Holly’s The Top of Her Game has what I would call a modern day cowboy and it’s awesome. But you’ve got to write as well as Holly for me to pick a book with a cowboy in it.

I do not know why. Just my v. obnoxious pet peeve, I guess. Some sort of irrational hatred of cowboys.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

I always, always listen to music. Music on, muted TV playing something with a hot dude in it, then work. I make playlists on my itunes for every story I write, but I have the worst musical taste in the world. Sugababes, Beyonce, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga. Some good stuff- La Roux, Joni Mitchell, Tori Amos.
What makes a man sexy?

Black hair, side parted. Glasses. Big nose. Sweater vest with shirt and tie underneath. Basically Clark Kent.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

Everyone – even my Gran – knows. Some of them can’t quite bring themselves to read my work, considering that doing so is almost like incest, but they are so massively proud of me. They always knew I’d be a writer, and it’s only me that’s doubted.
What’s your favourite food?

Oh God…seafood paella. Chicken satays with peanut sauce. Red Lobster’s cheese biscuits. Baskin and Robbins’ watermelon sorbet (they haven’t done it for years, but I can still taste it). Rare tuna. Fizzy worms. Chocolate raisins. Cherry liqueurs.

I could go on.
Do you have any bad habits?

See above. Stuffing my face with crap. Oh, and worrying in a paranoid way about everything. She hasn’t emailed me- she doesn’t like me! The website is down- my publisher has folded! My finger hurts- it must be my heart!

Etc. If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

My husband. My laptop with unlimited battery power. A Chinese restaurant that only sells chicken satays with peanut sauce. My film library. A shower.

Hey- you didn’t say it had to be a reasonable list!
Do you have any pet peeves?

Just people being arseholes for no apparent reason.
What do you like about where you live?
Everything. It’s the best home anyone could have.
If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

Can I travel to the future? You know, the one where we’ve all forgotten what sex is, and I have to teach some really, really hot dudes how it’s done?

Yeah, I’ll take that. Especially if they’re wearing sweater vests.

Please visit Charlotte at her blog to learn more about this fanfreakingtastic writer! I heart me some Charlotte!

I did it!

I finally finished my nephew Nolen's stocking. It took forever and my wrist hurts, but it's done and Santa can fill it tonight. For some reason, my sister-in-law wanted the Grateful Dead bears on the stocking. I was puzzled since neither she nor nor my brother are fans, but I have to admit, it did turn out pretty darn cute! The other stocking is Nolen's big sister, Madelynn's stocking that I made two years ago.



I also made 50 cut out cookies and 256 crescent roll cookies. Why so many, you might ask? Because I'm mathematically inept. I thought I was doubling the batch and instead, I quadrupled it. Yes...I am just that clever. Sigh.

I still have to wrap presents. Guh. I'd better get to it - Santa comes early around here!

Riding In Cars With Boys...The Next Installment

So, I'm picking up Killian, Justin and Mitchell last week and they all throw themselves in the car because it's freezing out and Mitchell is singing along with his iTouch. Badly.

Justin: Mitchell! Are you freaking singing an Owl City song?!

Mitchell: (sheepishly) Yeah

Justin: Seriously dude, you're only supposed to put them on your iPod so chicks think you're sensitive. You're not supposed to like that shit!

Mitchell: I can't help it. It's catchy.

me: Wait, so you guys put music you hate on your mp3 players so that girls, on the off chance that they're scrolling through your playlist, will think you're sensitive?

Justin: Yes Mrs. Killian's Mommy, it's girl shorthand for "do we have anything in common?" Why do you think I have Paramore on there?"

me: Not because you like them, I'm guessing.

Justin: See, girls always want to see what kind of music you like, so I quick scroll past Children of Bodem, Devildriver, Job for a Cowboy and all of the rest of the death metal before I hand them my mp3 player. Then they say stuff like "OMG! You like Paramore?" And I say, "It's on my playlist, isn't it?" You gotta say it like that, 'cause it's not cool to lie to the ladies.

me: Wow...you've really thought this out. Hey Killian, do you have music you hate on your zune to pickup girls?

Killian: No. The right girl will have good taste in music.

At this point, I'm cracking up and Justin is playing air guitar to some Devildriver song.

Mitchell: Dude, you're playing your guitar wrong. You're not gonna get the right notes that way.

A sudden silence descends over the car. After a long pause, Justin speaks.

Justin: I'm not going to get the notes right...on my air guitar,

Mitchell: Yeah. Your hand is too far up the neck and you're getting the chords all wrong.

Justin: I'm getting the chords all wrong. On my air guitar.

Mitchell: Yeah, dude.

Justin: Mitchell...is your air guitar real?

Mitchell: Yeah. it says 'Les Paul 1968' on it.

Justin: Mine says 'I-ma-gin-ar-y' on it...for that is what it is.

me: I'm totally blogging about this.

Justin: (nodding sagely) I am indeed blogworthy.

At this point I have to pull over because I'm laughing so hard. Later we drop off Justin who's still shaking his head at Mitchell and Killian takes Justin's place in the front seat. Mitchell leans forward and starts playing with Killian's hair.

Mitchell: Dude...do you use product in your hair?

Killian: No. Quit touching my hair, Mitchell

Mitchel: Do you blow dry your hair?

Killian: No. Quit touching my hair, Mitchell.

Mitchell: You should blow dry and use products. Chicks dig good hair. I have awesome hair. Don't you think I have awesome hair?

Killian: No. Quit touching my hair, Mitchell.

me: You do have great hair, Mitchell.

Mitchell: I know, right? But seriously, dude - product and blow dryer.

Killian: No. And oh my God, Mitchell, quit touching my freaking hair!!!

I'm actually going to miss driving these dorks to and from school for the next couple weeks. If you missed the first installment, you can see it here.

Check it out!

I've been interviewed by the wonderful Blackraven over at The Blackraven's Erotic Cafe and I would absolutely love it if you dropped by and said hi.


Also, there's a contest. :D It closes at 12 Noon CST, tomorrow December 18th. The prize is any two books from my backlist - that's 12 to choose from!

Snow Day...day three

I don't think it's stopped snowing for more than a few hours since Wednesday afternoon - not that I'm complaining that much. We've been lucky and school's been canceled for the last three days. The snow is beautiful, but I hate driving in it.


This is all the snow on my roof - taken from an upstairs window. I'm not going out unless I have to!



This is a view of my backyard - the little gray building is my garage and the other thing is the swingset my husband built about twelve years ago. The boys are so big, it doesn't get a lot of use anymore.



The last picture is taken from my front door. We planted that tree almost twelve years ago when it was only about eight inches tall.

I'm a bad, bad blogger

So, I've been a little distracted by the day job, being sick, writing a book and naughty, naughty kittens...oh yeah...and trying to make Christmas presents. Needless to say, this is gong to be a very short blog, but on the plus side, it'll include cute pictures of naughty kittens. Not sure if that really balances out, but I'm hoping so. :)

Also, we've been blogging over at Writer's Evolution this week about Holiday Traditions, and I'd love it if you came over to take a peek.

For now I leave you with the cuteness/naughtiness at my house. Willow and Morrighan think the Christmas tree is the best toy we've ever given them. There's a reason our tree is tied to the ceiling...

Crawling Out from Under the Plague Rock

Yes, for those of you keeping score at home, I'm sick again. I find it grossly unfair that I'm allergic to all flu and pneumonia vaccines. Even more unfair is the fact that Starbucks doesn't deliver.

I want a Bat Signal, only instead of Batman's bat, I want it to show a venti cinnamon dolce latte in the sky, and then I want one of those super nice Starbuck's employees to deliver it to me. I'd tip, for God's sake. And I'd promise only to use it in times of great need. Like today. Sigh...I want some damn coffee.



In other news, Mist and Stone was released today from TEB as a single title - yay! And tomorrow...or maybe it's Wednesday...I dunno (lack of decent coffee does that to me) it comes out in audio book!

Here's an excerpt:

“Touch her, and I will geld you before you take your next breath.” Rage filling her vision, Willow stepped in front of the young priestess at her side and blocked the advances of the man before them.

His thin lips peeled away from his teeth in a poor facsimile of a smile. “Mayhap, I will touch you instead.”

As he reached for her breast, she drew her dagger from the sheath attached to her kirtle and pressed the blade against the man’s groin. Unprepared for her bold move, he gasped and froze in place. She did not bother hiding her smile as she pushed the blade upwards bringing him to his toes.

Hooves clattered over the courtyard’s stones and a rider dismounted, but she refused to look away from the man in front of her.

The rider moved beside her and locked a warm hand around her wrist.

She turned to glare at the second man. “Have you come to protect your brother in arms from my blade?”

Recognition hit her low in the gut as familiar eyes, blue as a bright autumn day, crinkled with poorly concealed amusement. Gareth.

A crooked smile quirked his lips as he ignored her question as well as her barb. “While I am tempted to allow you to make good on your threat, I do not think the King would appreciate you spilling the blood of one of his knights.” He paused and eyed the man at the end of her dagger. “No matter how much he likely deserves it.”

“Release me,” she demanded. She refused to allow either man to think she was a helpless child.

In response, Gareth grabbed the other man’s tunic and gently, but firmly, pulled her weapon from its intended target. “The priestess is none of your concern, Maleagant. You will give her a wide berth or Arthur will hear of this.”

The other man narrowed his eyes, rage bright in the icy depths. “They are pagan whores.” Yanking free of Gareth’s grasp, he stumbled backwards. “God does not care for them. Why should Arthur?”

Willow shook with anger as he disappeared from view. She turned her scowl on the man who still held her wrist, caressing the underside with a callused thumb. A shiver worked down her spine as he continued to stroke the sensitive skin.

“Ever the protector of the weak, Sir Gareth the Brave,” she scoffed as she shook her hair from her face, taking care not to reveal how his slightest touch affected her. Though she had taken pains to pretend otherwise, her childhood infatuation had never truly gone away. If anything, it was worse than ever. However, it was difficult to rectify the noble knight before her with the boy who had pushed her into mud puddles and put frogs in her hair.

Gangly, red-haired Gareth had become a knight to be envied. Gone were the knobby knees and clumsy feet of a boy. In his place stood a man, tall and broad shouldered. If the heavy mail covering his body was any indication, he was also thickly muscled—he would have to be to support the weight of the metal as if it were no more cumbersome than his tunic. His hair had darkened to a russet brown, and his voice had deepened, though it still held the rich accent of the Orkney Isles. Only his eyes remained unchanged and right now they bored into hers.

She attempted to tug her arm free of his grasp, but he held firm, pulling her closer until she needed to tilt her head to meet his gaze. The heat of his body surrounded her, chasing away the chill of the spring morning.

“You have made a fierce enemy in Malaegant,” he growled.

She shrugged. “I do not fear him.”

“You should.” He tightened his grip on her wrist. Plucking her dagger from her fingers, he slipped it into his belt.

How dare he appropriate her weapon as though she was a child who could not be trusted to handle sharp objects? Her irritation deepened.

“You have humiliated him, and he will not soon forget it. If ever.” Lifting her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You must take heed, Willow—especially while you are at Camelot. He is a dangerous man.”

She leaned closer and gently lifted his hair from his forehead, enjoying the sensation of his silky locks sliding through her fingers. Squinting, she peered intently at him as if searching for hidden secrets.

Frowning, he caught her wandering hand and pressed it to his chest. “What do you play at, woman?”

“I play at nothing. I am simply searching for hoof prints.”

His brow furrowed and confusion spread across his features. “Hoof prints?”

She bit her lip, stifling the smile that threatened. “Your solicitous behaviour is so unlike your usual treatment of me, I can only assume your mount has kicked you in the head recently.”

His firm lips twitched, but whether in amusement or annoyance, she was unable to tell. She fought the urge to smooth her fingertips across them.

He leaned towards her, bringing his face so close she could feel the warm flutter of his breath upon her skin. Was he going to kiss her?

Holding her gaze, Gareth slowly raised her palm to his lips and brushed a kiss across the centre. Nervous excitement trembled through her middle as he raised his head slightly. “Have a care, Willow, lest I feel the need to remind you that Malaegant is not the only dangerous man nearby.”

Riding in Cars with Boys

I think some of you know that I am the carpool mom extraordinaire. Not because I'm a great driver, just because I'm super tolerant of teenage boyness.

In the afternoon, I pick up my son, Killian, and his friends Justin and Mitchell from school. They're tall and gangly with long hair and loud voices. They laugh too loudly and have wicked senses of humor. They're jaw-droppingly wise and ridiculously stupid all at the same time. In short, they're teenage boys, and I adore them.

A week or so ago, they were talking about annoying preppy girls.

Me: So what makes them annoying?
Justin: Seriously. Have you ever heard one talk?
Me: Not recently...no. What's the prob.
Killian: Everything's a question.
Me: What do you mean?
Justin: It's the upward inflection at the end of every single freaking sentence.
Mitchell: What's an upward inflection?
Killian: You know, the last word in every sentence goes up like they're asking questions even when they aren't.
Mitchell: Whaaaat?
Justin: (speaking in a high girly voice) I'm gonna go to my locker. It's lunchtime.
Killian: (also using a falsetto voice) I have gym class now. My name's Brittany.
Mitchell: Can I copy your homework?
Killian and Justin: That is a question, Mitchell.
Me: (muffled laughter)
Mitchell: Oh...right.
Justin: It's just so annoying.
Killian: Totally.
Mitchell: Huh...I just thought they were all really dumb.

Then there was today's conversation.

Mitchell: There's something wrong with a bunch of the dudes in my gym class.
Me: Oh?
Mitchell: Yeah. They run around the locker room all naked and stuff.
Me: Well, it is a locker room. I assume they're either changing or showering.
Mitchell: Well, yeah. But it's just not right, man. I mean, I shouldn't hafta see another dude's junk. It's not right at all.
Me: Maybe they're just comfortable with their bodies.
Mitchell: Maybe they're just freaks.
Justin: Maybe they're nudists.
Mitchell: Maybe, but they gotta keep their junk at home then. Duuuude...what would happen if you went to your friend's house and they were all naked?
All three boys: collective groan
Justin: I wouldn't sit down, that's for sure.
Killian: Unless there was plastic on the furniture...maybe then.
Justin: Yeah. Plastic. Lots of plastic. Everything else is lava!

Then totally out of the blue, Mitchell who happened to be sitting in the front seat, turned to me and said, "So, my friend came out to me today."

Me: Came out-came out?
Mitchell: Yeah. He said he was gay.
Me: What did you say?
Mitchell: I said, I did not expect that, but that's cool.
Me: I think that's great. A lot of guys wouldn't have been very comfortable hearing that from a friend.
Justin: Was it in gym class?
Killian, Mitchell and me: Shut up, Justin.
Mitchell: No in the hallway. Some asshole was picking on him and calling him gay, and he said, I am.
Me: (fearing the worst) What did the other guy say?
Mitchell: He looked surprised for a minute and said. Really? Oh...okay. I guess I won't pick on you then. You have enough to deal with. And then he just walked away.

I couldn't have been more shocked. I know sometimes teenagers are a pain in the ass, but they're all finding their way in the world. I have to say, they're doing a great job. If a boy had come out like that when I was in high school, he would have likely gotten the crap kicked out of him and he'd have been run out of the school. I love progress and I love these boys. These are the ones I get to spend time with, and I couldn't be happier. Being the carpool mom sucks because I really do hate to drive, but days like today make it all worthwhile.

Writer's High

This week on the Writer's Evolution blog, we're talking about the writer's high and what it means for us. If you get a chance, please stop by and let us know what it means to you!

I Has a Happy

Matt, my husband, has been working in Russia for the last two weeks, and he's finally coming home today!!! Several of my friends have husbands that go away for up to a month at a time, so I know I'm really lucky - two weeks isn't all that long. But, it is the longest we've been apart since college, and I can't wait to see him!!!

Orb-tacular Spectacular

On Halloween, I friend and I decided to visit some local graveyards to see if we could photograph any orbs that might be hanging around. Halloween, or Samhain, is the time of the year when the veil separating the dead and the undead (seen and unseen, the various planes - however you want to look at it) is the thinnest. I'm here to say, it was pretty thin last weekend. Look what we found!

The pictures were taken at St. Mary's in New Salem, MI, Visitation in North Dorr, MI, St. Sebastian's in Bryon Center, MI and at an abdondoned, one room schoolhouse, also in Bryon Center, MI. This is the school where my Dad and my uncles attended first through eighth grade many, many years ago.

You may want to click on the pictures to enlarge them so you can see all of the orb-y goodness. There are no orbs that I can find in the last picture, I just thought it looked kinda cool...and also really creepy!

Cool Stuff

I have to tell you about my very dear friend, Margaret. We've known each other forever...seriously...since we were fifteen or sixteen. I'm so excited for her. She recently won the Ann Arbor Book Festival's Short Story Contest!!!! YAY MARGARET!!!! Here's a link to her wonderful, winning story, Entertaining Guests. If you get a chance, I hope you'll pop over and read it. It's great!!!

In other news, Valerie, from Manic Readers 20 Questions Blog, interviewed me! It's here. If you get a chance, we'd love it if you came over and left a comment!

Cuffed and Dangerous is Out Today!

Well, my first menage releases today from Resplendence Publishing and I'm pretty excited - and of course, a little nervous!

After the blurb and excerpt, I've posted what Gideon and Jude look like in my head. :)

When a bounty claim becomes a fight of five against one, Jude Caulfield and Gideon Wells step in to help hunter, Wrenn Saunders, before she’s mortally injured. Wrenn soon learns that three is a good number whether in a fight or in the bedroom. Especially in the bedroom—and that’s just where Jude and Gideon want to keep her.

She might be fooling some of the regulars at the Jack Pine tavern, but she sure as shit wasn’t fooling him. Gideon Wells eyed the blonde as she nursed her drink like a broken heart. Her depressed demeanor was Oscar-worthy, but this girl was hunting. He’d bet his right ball her prey would walk through the door any minute.

He leaned back in his chair and observed her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Short, honey-blonde hair framed her face, stopping just past her chin. She had pale, almost translucent skin that reminded him of an angel’s or a vampire’s—but he knew she was neither. His gaze rose to her full lips. God damn if she didn’t have a mouth made for sin. His cock stirred behind the fly of his jeans, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

He watched her scan the room in the mirror, stopping when she met his gaze. Huge eyes the color of melted dark-chocolate glared at him, and he couldn’t help but smile. She was a bounty hunter. He’d never seen her, but he’d heard plenty about her over the last three years. While most members of the shifter community might not be best buddies, they kept each other apprised of shared dangers—like bounty hunters with hard-ons for feline shape shifters.

Her short, snug skirt rode up her legs, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs. It was impossible not to imagine how the creamy flesh would taste as he lapped at her. As if she knew his thoughts, her frown deepened and she looked away. He took that opportunity to continue his perusal of her gentle curves, following the delicately muscled line of her leg downward. Her feet were encased in impossibly high heels and thin bands of leather wrapped around her ankles. The sharp contrast of the black leather against her porcelain skin hardened his cock further as he imagined her bound to his bed, wide leather cuffs securing her hands and ankles, her body open and weeping for him.

Her foot tapped in an agitated rhythm against the metal rung of the bar stool and he dragged his attention upward. Her full lips were pursed in annoyance as she stared at him. Raising his bottle, he saluted her, barely stifling a laugh when she flipped him off.

The door of the bar swung open and her eyes darted almost imperceptibly toward the doorway. He followed her gaze and nearly groaned aloud as he saw his best friend zero in on the woman at the bar. This wouldn’t end well.

With an easy grin, Jude Caulfield approached the blonde and leaned on the bar while he ordered a beer. His smile faded as he crossed the room and sank into an empty chair next to Gideon. After a nearly draining the bottle, he set it on the table and sighed.

“The Montgomery build is on hold and I’m laid off indefinitely, the bar’s out of Killian’s Red, and I just got shot down by the hottest woman I’ve seen in months.”

Gideon grinned. “So you’re writing country songs now?”

“Fuck you.” Jude nodded toward the bar. “Who is she?”

“If I’m not mistaken, that’s Wrenn Saunders.”

“The bounty hunter?”

Before Gideon could respond, a triangle of dull light slid across the floor as the door opened, and Spencer Dane entered. Besides being a werelion and an all around dick, he was also the head of the local lion pride. While Spencer might masquerade as a reputable businessman, he was nothing more than a drug dealer using his import company as a front and the members of his pride to distribute his product. The tiny hairs stood up on the back of Gideon’s neck and the need to shift burned through his veins. It was more than cats not playing nicely with those outside their own genus. He hated this guy.

“Easy there,” Jude murmured. “The last thing I need today is for you to go panther on him. I can’t afford to bail your ass out of jail.”

Nodding, Gideon took another swig of beer, attempting to swallow his dislike with the cool liquid and watched as the creep made his way toward the blonde at the bar. His beast rose in his chest at the sight of Spencer’s hand stroking her forearm, his meaty paws caressing her bare skin.

Gideon’s fingers clenched around his bottle as she leaned toward Spencer, giving him a clear view of her ample cleavage. Forcing his grip to relax, he drained the last of his beer. What did it matter that she was flirting with a lowlife like Spencer? Gideon would love to think that she was in the Jack Pine to haul the bastard in, but so far, the other man had managed to keep his illegal dealings unproven, letting his pride members take the fall for him.

The bounty hunter swiveled on her stool. Buttons near to popping, her tight blouse left very little to the imagination, including the hint of black lace that cupped the full mounds of her breasts.

“Holy Mother of God,” Jude breathed.

“Yeah.” It was the only word he could choke out.

Equally enamored, Spencer laid his hand on her bare thigh as she giggled, peering at him through her lashes. In a move so fast, it must have taken years of practice, she pulled a pair of handcuffs from her waistband and snapped one of the bracelets around his wrist.

Spencer stared at his hand, dumfounded. “What the fuck?”

Hopping off the bar stool, she dragged his hand behind his back as she shoved his torso toward the bar top and wrestled the cuff around his other wrist.

“You’re under arrest, asshole,” she said.

“I think I’m in love,” Jude breathed.

Spencer pushed himself back to an upright position. Straining his muscles, he fought against the restraints. “You’ve got nothing on me, bitch.”

She grabbed the cuffs and pulled them upward, twisting his arms in his sockets. “Don’t bother—they’re silver. And actually, I do. There’s a bench warrant from a judge in Detroit for your arrest. You’re more than two years behind on child support.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s life.”

“Look, I can triple whatever your bounty is. Just unlock the cuffs and the money’s yours.”
With her free hand, she removed a colt from her purse and pressed the muzzle into his back. “I’ve got a full cylinder. The rounds aren’t silver, so you’ll heal, but I can make sure it hurts like hell before you do.”

“Yep,” Jude nodded. “Definitely in love.”

“Whore,” Spencer growled.

“Helplessness is a bitch, huh?” Keeping a tight grip on the chain connecting the cuffs and the gun pressed against his spine, she shoved him toward the door.

Meet Jude and Gideon.

(Okay...in real life, they're really Jensen Ackles and Keith Hamilton Cobb...but in my head, this is who I see when I think of these two.)