Who doesn’t like a good Bedtime Story?

PreOrder Now Available at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SYX5Y7F

 

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This story’s about how Sam saved Troll’s Blog by coming up with one of the coolest ideas ever. Bedtime Stories Publishing…

Shelby Morgen — Troll’s Blog: Perfect skin, dusted a light powder blue. Bright burgundy Mohawk. 6’4”. Dark blue uniform. Big shiny gun. Yeah. I’m the Troll under the bridge. But if you’re reading my blog, you know that. That’s why I call it Troll’s Blog. Duh. But I digress. This story isn’t about me. Not exactly. It’s about my blog. And Sam. And another one of Sam’s great ideas. You’re gonna love it. Really.

Lena Austin — Ugly Duckling: Jean-Paul, incubus editor for Bedtime Stories Press has been assigned a new author. Dominick may be a fantastic author, but when he gets aroused, the situation gets ugly. Literally. Jean-Paul is sure he can handle Dom. Maybe…

Anne Kane — Pixie’s Playmates: “While the story had an engaging quality, I feel that the flavor of the sex was too vanilla for Bedtime Stories Press.” When Bedtime Stories Press review coordinator Pixie calls the reviewer into the office she finds out “B.J. Smith” is really two very drool-worthy males who want to demonstrate their toys. What’s a pixie to do?

Marteeka Karland — Shut Up! As official kitty of the Bar and Grille for the Bedtime Stories readers and authors, Callie has the last say in everything she does and with everyone in her vicinity. Then Troll makes a proclamation that could very well get someone killed. Anyone who can get the last word in on Callie gets to have his way with her in bed. It’s a proposition Eli can’t refuse. Callie’s about to get all the loving from Eli she can stand. If she can just shut up.

Note: Bedtime Stories in no way represents any actual publishing company. Any resemblance to the staff and authors of Changeling Press is purely coincidental.

That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.

PreOrder from any of these links HERE

My Lawnmower saga

I know, this is supposed to be a blog about my writing and all the things that make up an author’s life. And it is. Sort of. You see, even us authors have to cut the lawn.

I’ve never been a fan of cutting gras1909013s. Over the years, as I’ve battled one badly behaved lawn cutting instrument after another, I’ve learned to hate the fact that grass, well, it GROWS! I’ve tried various ploys to avoid this hated chore. I made the kids do it, but they grew up and left home and seem to feel it is not their job to come back every week (or less) and trim the green stuff back down to a manageable height. 

I’ve tried the environmentally friendly options ie letting the neighbors cows munch on the lush greenery, and then shooing them back into their own field once they complete their task. In my defense, they escaped their pasture themselves. Even a cow can tell when the grass on the other side of the fence is greener. I’ve also tethered the kid’s pony around the yard to graze but alas, the kids got bigger than the pony and she went off to live out her retirement on a farm with a few elderly buddies of the equine variety.

Enter, the lawnmower from hell. In order to avoid a lawsuit from an enraged lawnmower manufacturer I won’t tell you the make and model of this particular medieval torture tool. And, I will admit a fair number of people gush over it’s ability to cut and mulch and mow lawns brilliantly. Mine didn’t do any of those things without an all out battle that I only occasionally won.

Personally, I think my particular lawnmower was possessed by evil spirits. It hiccuped. It balked at cutting the grass. It threw things at me. It damn near yanked my arm out its socket when I tried to start it. It just plain HATED me! And it knew how to drive me insane. This spring, after the first bout of grass cutting torture, I seriously considered getting rid of the darn thing and buying something that actually worked for me.

BUT

Lawnmowers are expensive. I’m a single working gal with a limited income. I just payed for a snowblower last fall so my outdoor equipment budget is kind of shot for a little while. I gave myself a stern talking to. Suck it up, I told myself. You can do this. It’s just a little machine. It’s not capable of hating you or doing things to annoy (or terrify) you. You’re just being silly.

Bolstered by this pep talk I headed out to trim the green stuff Saturday afternoon.  I prepared as best I could. I put high grade gas in the mower. I added fuel stabilizer (per mechanic’s suggestion) I pulled and pulled and finally got the darling little thing started. I cut a few swaths of grass without incident. I started to feel a little sheepish about my whining. I am a grown woman after all. But then…

KABOOM!

The oil cap blew off, sending hot oil spurting all over the place, including on me.  And where it landed on the hot motor, it caught on fire. Thick black smoke billowed up, with the odd flame showing through the dark cloud. Keep in mind, I just filled this thing with gas! I panicked. I pushed it onto the cement parking pad and ran for the house where I watched from relative safety of the house as it burned rather impressively. ,

Mindful of my earlier self lecture, I got in my car and drove as fast as I could to the nearest Home Depot. I now own a nice battery operated lawn mower with no oil, not gas and no chance of exploding on me (I hope)

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….and I’m back!

Wow! I can’t believe it’s been almost 2 months since I posted anything on this blog! Actually I can, if only because it feels like forever. My mundane you-need-to-make-a-living-and-pay-the mortgage life took over entirely, and I have to tell you that is not the best part of my existence. After two months of no writing I think I’m going crazy. Really. Completely. So, here my promise to myself. I will write each and every day. It may only be ten or twenty minutes but I will do it. My sanity depends on it! Also, the dog is annoyed because he likes my writing space much better than my serious accountant space. The writing space has cushy furniture and a bigger window.

In case you need something to tide you over while waiting for my next new release, how about a collection of older stories from Changeling Press featuring on of my earler shifter stories? If you live anywhere near the flatlands, you know about prairie dogs. Cute, quick to jump down a hole in the ground, and very prolific. Very VERY prolific. They live in “towns”  populated by dozens and dozens of the little rascals in one location. Now what if that praire dog town was actually a town full of shifters?

Author: Anne Kane, Camille Anthony, Carlanime Bligh, Dawn Montgomery, Lena Austin, Marteeka Karland, Mary Winter, Tuesday Richards

Cover Art: Renee’ George

BIN: 06932-02234

Genres: Box Sets, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Wildest West

Themes: Bisexual and More, MC Romance, Multiple Partners, Second Editions, Shapeshifters

Series: Dawg Town Multi-Author (#1)

Book Length: Box Set

Page Count: 172

One very special town. A whole lot of very bad — and very hot — Dawgs. Prairie Dawgs, that is…

Anne Kane — Hustle: A game of pool turns into a sexy seduction, Prairie Dawg style.

Lena Austin — Bad Dawg: One OTR trucker. One leather-clad biker. One very special town.

Marteeka Karland — Hot Dawg: Selene’s hot pink Harley is pointed straight to adventure, Dawg Town style.

Mary Winter: Chip & Dale: Usually a prairie dog colony is one male, several females. Tusa wants it the other way around.

Dawn Montgomery — Playing for Keeps: Riley holds all the cards, but Tara’s playing for keeps.

Camille Anthony — Puppy Dawg: It’ll take both hell and high water to set two stumbling lovers on the path to each other.

Tuesday Richards — Mad Dawg: Bryce’s bad started when he dodged a prairie dog and laid down his prized motorcycle… Can the day get any worse?

Carlanime Bligh — Prairie Rose: There’s a hunky new librarian in town, the moon is full, and Rose is in heat!

 

Trials and tribulations of a writer’s life. (Or why my manuscript isn’t finished yet)

21151378_10213695198592440_2925865773603312114_nIt seems the PTB (Powers that Be, whatever you might believe them to manifest as) have conspired to make my writing life as difficult as possible. Now, I’m not sure if they are mad at me, or annoyed that my characters all get to live happily ever after, or if they are bored and just like to watch me squirm.

Late last year I came down with the first actual case of Writer’s Block in my life. I had a story about half written, and I just couldn’t seem to get any further on it. I’d open the computer and stare at the page. Write a sentence or two. Erase them. Do it again. And again. And again. You get the picture. (BTW, that one’s on the back burner for now, but at some point in the future, you’re going to hear about a feisty female who decides to seduce a cyborg so she can kidnap him and force him to help her escape.)

I confessed to my editor and my publisher that I wasn’t going to make the publishing deadline and they were very understanding. The publisher suggested I give it a break and write a short story for the ezine she manages. Great idea! Writer’s Block banished! New storyline emerged. The short story reads like the prequel to a whole new cyborg novella. I’m going to post it up on the free reads of my website later so you can go read it if you want.

So, I had a new story and it was going great for over a week until a company I won’t name decided that it was time to update their software. Read that to say update the operating system for my laptop. Not sure why. It worked just fine before the update. Afterward, not so much. I now needed a new laptop. **headdesk**

For those of you who are going to say use a pencil and paper – No. I don’t do that. I get cramps in my hands after the first hour or so and that HURTS! I’m allergic to pain.

I’ve had good luck with Dell laptops so I went online and ordered a fancy new laptop with all the bells and whistles and sat back to wait for it to arrive in 10 days. You’d think that would be the end of it, right? Wrong! Nine days later, I got a call from a very nice man in Toronto who identified himself as a Dell representative. Seems there had been a problem in the production of my laptop. They tried to install two operating systems and that didn’t work so they pulled it from the production floor and canceled the order. (Can you hear the PTB laughing their damn fool head s off??) He offered to give me nice credit if I would reorder the same machine. Of course, it would take a few more weeks since they’d have to start from scratch but hey, it’s what I wanted so I said sure. Go ahead. I can wait.  I gave him all the information again and he put in the order. I got a confirmation email and everything. Now I can rest easy and wait.

Or can I? Yesterday I get the news that this order too has been canceled.  It snowed here on Friday. I think that moisture was actually the physical manifestation of the PTB laughing so hard they cried. And at -20 degrees, it doesn’t rain, it snows.

I didn’t want to keep going in that endless circle so I give up on Dell online orders. I decided what I needed to do was go to a brick and mortar store and purchase a laptop over the counter. Sounded like an amazingly simple plan.

Hah!

My friend and I drove to the closest town with a store that sells computers. My town doesn’t have one, we barely have a supermarket.  My friend and I  browsed. We wandered. We compared prices, and specs and pros and cons. We finally decided on a nice HP laptop with a 17inch screen. We loved the specs, the price, the looks….  We cornered a sales rep and indicated we had cash and were willing to spend it. She was thrilled. (I think they work on commission) She went to get it from the back room since we’d been looking at the floor model.

(At this point, the PTB were giggling like a bunch of teenagers watching a very explicit  chick flick.)

She came back empty handed. Seems the inventory count was off. They didn’t have that model in stock, but she was determined. She called seven (yeah, the PTB are now rolling on the floor laughing their heads off)  of the affiliate stores across the province and managed to locate one for me. It’s being shipped down her store and should be here Tuesday. Only three days! I can hardly wait!

Of course, the route my shiny new laptop needs to traverse in order to be united with me,  is through an area known as Three Valley Gap. I’m not sure how many times that road has been closed for avalanche control, or because of an avalanche this winter alone. I can safely say more than once. Or twice. What do you suppose the chances are of my new laptop being delayed due to a natural disaster are?

Do you think the PTB might just move on to torment someone else one of these days? Like maybe an innocent guy trying to catch a fish? Or a lawyer with a shifty client? Anyone but me!

Come back next week and see if I’ve possted a picture of my new laptop, or if I’ve decided to stock up on aspirin and tylenol and go the pen and paper route. Till , then…

 

Happy Reading!

Anne Kane

www.AnneKane.com

ThrowBack Thursday! Changeling for all Seasons #3

Price: $5.99   $4.79

Eleven tales of Christmas Magic from your favorite Changeling authors!

Fire and Ice by Lacey Savage: When Elle’s best friend asks for a favor on Christmas Eve,she learns there’s more than frozen yogurt in the walk-in freezer.

Frost Bite by Tuesday Morrigan: The Fates give Julian three days with Jacklyn. Three days to change the course of history.

Sophie’s Present by Anne Kane: Dandy knows just what to do to make Sophie’s Christmas the merriest ever.

Canine Cop by B.J. McCall: Ranger Cooper Holt makes a Christmas wish. Sometimes you get what you wish for…

Christmas of the Damned by Marie Treanor: When Sol rescues a wounded wolf, their meeting is only one of the miracles of Christmas.

Summoning by Leila Brown: Johnathan’s crazy college roommate sends him a Christmas present with a set of instructions…

Canine Call by B.J. McCall: A rescue mission brings Attus and Jynx together on a full moon Christmas…

Suspicious Surprises by Camille Anthony: Only true love will guide two lovers through this Christmas minefield of suspicious surprises.

His Guardian Angel by Kate Hill: Angel is the only one who can tame Gannon’s beast, giving him the greatest Christmas gift of his life.

Satisfaction Guaranteed by Kira Stone: Ambrose, a Changeling, is eager to help Thomas with his quality control problem…

Haulin’ Hawg by Lena Austin: BD has plans that involve bungee cords and a motorcycle to prove his love.

Publisher’s Note: The novellas in A Changeling For All Seasons 3 (Box Set) have been previously published.

BUY IT HERE!

#Throw Back Thursday – Yule Ties: Oops! A humorous Christmas short story

1Author: Anne Kane

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

BIN: 07866-02538

Genres: Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)ParanormalRomanceRomantic Comedy

Themes: Christmas

Series: Yule Tied (#1)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 36

Stephanie, Jackie and Caroline. The three women have been friends for years, and they’ve built themselves a nice bed and breakfast /ranch operation. But with less than a fortnight to Christmas, a ruthless banker has swindled them out of their beloved home. What will they do?

Well, kidnapping him and holding him hostage until he decides to do the right thing sounds like a good plan. Unfortunately, it all goes hilariously wrong when they discover they’ve kidnapped the wrong man. Bondage, obedience classes and more are needed to make sure there’s a Merry Christmas this year!

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2016 Anne Kane

“Help me get these hobbles on him.” Caroline motioned Stephanie to hold the man’s legs while she twisted a length of rope around them, leaving just enough slack for him to hobble slowly. “I don’t aim to carry the no-good critter into the cabin.”

Jackie pulled the van up to the front of the cabin and killed the engine. “And we’re home!”

A very loud expletive emanated from under the blanket as Caroline pulled the hobbles a tad tighter than necessary.

Jackie turned in her seat and slapped the side of his legs by way of acknowledgement, secretly glad of an excuse to hit him. After what this guy had done, none of them felt any sympathy. Hell, if they could have gotten away with it, they would have tied him to the roof of the van for the trip to the cabin.

“On your feet, Mr. Smartass.” Caroline pushed the carpet-wrapped banker toward the side door as Stephanie slid it open.

Jackie helped her to tip the guy upright, and between the three of them they pushed and pulled the reluctant package into the cabin, ushering him into the extra bedroom just off the Great Room.

“Should we untie him now?” Jackie felt an unwelcome qualm of guilt as the man coughed hoarsely through his gunnysack hood. What if he had asthma? Or allergies? She wasn’t the kind of woman to actually want to hurt a person. At least not too badly.

“Hang on a second. Need to set the scene for him first.” Caroline’s Texas drawl thickened noticeably, a sign she was anticipating some fun. Pivoting on one foot, she disappeared into the back of the cabin, returning with a rifle slung carelessly over one shoulder.

“You can undo him now.” Pulling a fully loaded magazine out of her pocket she slapped it into the .22. “With any luck he’ll give me a chance to use this.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything as she glanced over at Jackie. They both knew Caroline wouldn’t hurt a flea if it was biting her on the ass. She did look intimidating though, and that’s what they were counting on. The plan was to scare this son of a bitch into giving them back their ranch.

Jackie loosened the rope and pulled the blanket off Mr. Smithers’ head. Good thing he had one of those short military haircuts, nothing long enough to catch in the rough fabric as it pulled away from his head.

The way he glared at her once his head was free had her tempted to put the blanket right back on again. The man looked dangerous!

Actually, he looked a lot younger than Jackie had expected. She’d pictured him as a middle-aged, white-haired slightly balding banker type, but he was anything but. He looked like he could model for one of those military places, or maybe do a recruitment poster for the Navy SEALs. Bankers weren’t supposed to have all those hard angles and bulging muscles.

As if to prove her point, the man brought his hands up, snapping the rope off them with a quick movement of his hands, before he paused and took a good look around. “What the hell? A bunch of women? What is going on?”

Jackie scrambled backward out of arm’s reach. Maybe they should have thought this through a little better. She didn’t know about Steph or Caroline but the thought of their quarry fighting back hadn’t even entered her mind.

“Go ahead, Mr. Smartass. Make my day.” Caroline brought the gun up to her shoulder, sighting down the long barrel as she drawled out the famous phrase.

“Seriously?” The man shook his head, obviously not impressed. “That’s a .22, not a real gun.”

Caroline moved the barrel slightly to the side and pulled the trigger, sending a shot into the chinking between the logs.

“Hey, be careful!” Their captive looked a little less amused. “Those things can ricochet, you know!”

“I am very much aware of what this little baby can do. Now strip before I decide to see if there’s real blood running through those veins of yours, or just ice water.”

 

Buy it HERE

Throwback Thursday! Christmas is coming and so are the Tinsel Wars…

1A little early, I know, but it’s kind of dull and grey and COLD up here in my world. Nothing like a little magic and the promise of a shiny holiday to cheer me up! I’ve written a lot of Christmas stories over the years, and this is one of my favorites.

Happy Reading!

Anne Kane

 

Blurb:

Misty knows if Braedon finds out about her parents, he’ll never want to see her again. She can’t face loving him just to have him turn on her when he discovers the truth, so she pushes him away — far away, to the ends of the world they both know.

Braedon knows what he wants, and he won’t be easily discouraged. The annual Reindeer games are coming, and he has a plan that will throw Misty right into his arms. He intends to win the final skirmish in the Tinsel Wars!

Excerpt:

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2015 Anne Kane

“Seriously?” Misty stared at the brightly colored ornaments dripping from every branch of the giant Christmas tree in the ballroom. Braedon stood to one side, admiring his handiwork. “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit?”

Braedon gave a negative shake of his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a satisfied smile. “Not at all. The Reindeer Games are all about Christmas, and Christmas isn’t about holding back. It’s about magic and brilliantly shiny decorations and getting your heart’s desire.”

Was she imagining that simmering spark in the depths of his eyes? It had been over two years since the infamous Tinsel Wars had ended their ill-advised affair and sent them fleeing to opposite ends of the North Pole.

Santa wasn’t big on dissention in the ranks.

A gorgeous hunk of Elf like Braedon must have had dozens of brainless little Elf twits throwing themselves at him every day. Once he got over the shock of her deliberately ruining their relationship, he probably hadn’t given her another thought. She shouldn’t have overreacted earlier.

So Braedon was here at the Reindeer Games. Big deal. It had been two years. He’d probably settled down with a nice Elf and maybe even had a few little ones by now. Only, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him because she couldn’t imagine how she’d react if he confirmed it.

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean you need to get tacky. Here.” She pretended she didn’t see his brows rise toward the ceiling as she stepped up to the tree and began to systematically strip two-thirds of the decorations from the branches. “Less is sometimes more.” She paused a moment, tilting her head to study the denuded fir, then quickly rearranged a series of shiny red bells to fill in some of the now glaring bare spots.

Ever since he’d arrived at the Reindeer Farms, Braedon had been acting like there was nothing wrong between them. After the tinsel fiasco at Christmas Central, she’d expected him to be mad, or upset or something. Anything. Their budding relationship aside, she’d damned near derailed his career prospects. He had to know she’d done it deliberately. This calm facade of his was driving her insane!

She imagined she could feel his gaze boring a hole in her back. She really needed to work on her overactive imagination. It was just possible that she’d meant that little to him.

Taking a deep breath she silently recited her new mantra. I am me, not a reflection of my family.

Okay, that wasn’t helping. Maybe she just needed a drink. Or two. Or a case of one hundred proof mistletoe juice. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until after they finished decorating the tree for tomorrow night’s opening ball of the Reindeer Games.

“You do know I have a degree in artistic tree arrangements, right?” Braedon carefully replaced each of the removed ornaments back on the tree, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Laughter? Seriously?

“Really? I hadn’t heard. You think you’d be better at it, then.” Misty stepped to the far side of the tree and began to remove items again. She hated how catty she sounded, but his attitude was starting to piss her off.

“Can’t see how. Did I mention that I won the Decorator’s Choice award last year for my work on the sixty-foot tree outside the Christmas Central depot?” Stepping to her side, Braedon carefully took her hand in his, stopping her from reaching for any more of the unfortunate decorations.

Up close, the tangy smell of his cologne sent the blood racing through her veins. Damn. She’d thought she could handle a few days in his presence, but now she wasn’t so sure.

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Throwback Thursday: Big Blue

 

1

BIN: 04156-01331

Genres: ParanormalRomanceUrban Fantasy

Themes: Elves, Dragons & Magical CreaturesSecond Editions

Series: DragonKin Multi Author (#5)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 42

After years of playing the field, Haydn has finally found his soul mate. Problem is, the well-endowed Cassie thinks all dragons are trouble and she has no intention of letting Hayden anywhere near her. He’s going to have to do some fast talking to convince her he’s the dragon of her dreams.

BUY LINKS: https://www.changelingpress.com/captive-heart-dragonkin-multi-author-5-b-1331

EXCERPT: 

Copyright ©2018 Anne Kane

Haydn laughed and draped his arm around Jackson’s shoulders. “I don’t think your fire companion is going to be too happy when you tell her about the dent you put in her new car!”

Jackson grinned, unrepentant. “Not to worry. I’ll just give her a little of my special brand of loving and she’ll forget to be mad at me.” He pointed to a table at the far side of the packed barroom. “Looks like we’re late. The guys already have a table.”

They shouldered their way through the Friday night crowd at the Pagan’s Corner, jostling good-naturedly with the other residents of Utopia Bay. Shifters, paranormals and humans all came to the local pub to have a good time, and the bouncers made sure racial tensions didn’t get out of hand.

Haydn grabbed a chair and straddled it backward, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “So what’s the plan for the night? It’s been a bitch of a week at work and I’m raring for some action.”

“May I take your orders, sirs?”

Haydn turned at the sound of that soft voice, and stared right into the prettiest pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen. Framed by soft brown skin and close clipped dark curls, those eyes bored a hole right to his heart. Unprecedented need exploded in his gut. His mated friends had always told him it would happen one day when he least expected it. He realized he was looking at his souler.

He let his gaze roam the rest of her ample charms while an appreciative smile crossed his lips. The quip rose to his tongue with the ease of years spent pursuing every female he could find. “Darling, I’d love to have you take my orders.”

She didn’t even blink, just raised one of those perfectly sculpted eyebrows and stared at him. He swore the temperature in the bar dropped ten degrees.

A couple of the guys whistled, and Jackson had the nerve to laugh out loud. “That one’s not going to fall for any of your pat lines, Haydn, so you might as well order a drink. Cassie doesn’t do dragons.”

“A mug of whatever’s on tap.” Haydn kept his eyes lowered, struggling to keep the redness from creeping up his neck. He had a reputation as a player, and it had been a long time since a woman had stonewalled him quite that thoroughly.

“Same for me.” Jackson tossed some money on the table.

Haydn watched her scribble the order down before she turned back to the bar. She held herself straight and proud, her wide hips sashaying beneath a calf-length denim skirt. He felt his cock jerk to attention at the thought of all that soft, warm flesh beneath him. Damn! He turned to Jackson. “What do you mean, she doesn’t do dragons?”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” Jackson held his hand up in mock fear. “She’s one of the humans that Egan’s group, Bound for Freedom, managed to save. To say she’s terrified of dragons would be putting it mildly. Can’t say I blame her, those rogues are a mean bunch.”

“Damn, that sucks.” Haydn watched her load drinks onto the tray and head back toward their table. “I’ll have to be real gentle with her.”

Jackson stared at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “Are you crazy? That girl is never going to go out with you. What part of ‘terrified of dragons’ did you not get?”

Haydn smiled gently. “She’s my fire companion. Of course she’ll go out with me. She just needs to get used to the idea.”

Across the table, another of his other friends shook his head in sympathy. “You think Cassandra is your fire companion? You’ve got your work cut out for you, man. I’ve heard some of Egan’s stories, and they aren’t pretty. You’ll be lucky if she lets you get within ten feet of her front door.”

Haydn watched the woman’s ample bosoms sway enticingly while she wound her way back to their table. “You said her name is Cassie, Jackson. What else do you know about her?”

Jackson shook his head. “Not much. Her full name is Cassandra, but everyone calls her Cassie. Egan’s group, Bound for Freedom, rescued her and she decided to stay here instead of returning to her home, wherever that was. She got this job right after her rescue, and cleaned out one of the cabins at the edge of town to live in.” He paused, his brow furrowing with concentration. “I don’t think she’s dated anyone since Egan freed her, certainly not a dragon.”

Haydn felt a knot he didn’t even know he had relax in his gut. She didn’t date. That was a good sign. It meant she was waiting for him, whether she knew it or not.

He smiled up at her when she reached their table. “Sorry for my rudeness earlier. You’re just so pretty my brain didn’t kick into gear.” So far so good. She hadn’t dumped the beer over his head yet. “Maybe when you get off shift, we could go grab a bite to eat?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackson roll his eyes. He obviously thought Haydn was nuts, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was his fire companion. She hesitated for a split second, and his heart leapt with hope.

“I don’t think that would be wise, sir.” Her voice had a musical lilt to it that resonated to the very center of his being. Her dark lashes swept down over her eyes, hiding her expression. She set the drinks down and turned to leave. He lifted his hand, intending to stop her, but let it fall.

She had the look of a rabbit just before his dragon snatched it from the ground, and he didn’t want her to think of him as a monster. He’d find another way to approach her.

FIND YOUR FAVORITE BOOKSELLER HERE

 

Release Day for Ride ’em Cowboy!

ANK_Roosters-RideEmCowboy_bryan

 

The wait is over! Ride ’em Cowboy is now available everywhere.

Buy it from the Publisher here

Buy it from Amazon.com

Buy it from Amazon.ca

Buy it from Amazon.co.uk

Buy it from Amazon.co.au

Buy it from Barnes and Noble

Buy it from ibooks

 

 

Blurb:

Fiona really wasn’t in the market for a lover or a partner or some guy to give her a sappy sweet happily ever after. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. She just wanted a nice one-night stand. She planned to be long gone come breakfast time.

When she saw that gorgeous cowboy ride up on his Harley, she figured it was her lucky day. Bikers don’t do forever, right? Her perfect match! They could tell each other a few lies, scratch each other’s itches and then go their separate ways. The last thing she needed was to hook up with some guy she’d smack headlong into at church the next day.

Simple, right? So how did it all go so very wrong?

.EXCERPT

Wyatt tossed her into the middle of the king-size bed and started to peel off his clothing. Damn. His cock was already hard and ready for her. Either she was the sexiest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, or his newfound freedom was having a very pleasurable effect on his libido. He skimmed his jeans down over his hips and tossed them aside.

It had been less than an hour since their little tryst in the parking lot. Maybe he should pace himself a bit. He’d never failed to finish the deed, and he had no intention of starting at this late date. Then again, he felt like a million bucks and his cock had definitely risen to the occasion.

He pulled a package of condoms out of his suitcase and placed them within easy reach on the bedside table before he pounced onto the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Fiona melted against him like a knife into butter, a perfect fit. He cradled the back of her head in one hand and took her lips in a kiss that sent a shiver of lust sizzling through his body. Her skin felt incredibly smooth beneath his hands as he impatiently pushed her shirt up and cupped her breasts.

High and firm, the plump globes fit perfectly into his palms. His cock twitched, feeling almost painfully hard, and he struggled to keep himself in control. It didn’t help that her nipples puckered into tight little buds under his hands.

Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this horny.

Fiona broke off the kiss and sat up on the bed. She pulled off those sexy cowboy boots of hers and began to shrug out of her clothing. Peeking out at him from beneath her lashes, she proceeded to toss it aside one item at a time. Kind of like an impromptu striptease with more stripping and less teasing involved.

Watching her deliciously rounded body emerge from the layers of cloth, Wyatt sucked in a deep breath. The parking lot had been dark, and he’d been too busy getting laid to really look at her. The woman was gorgeous. What the hell was she doing cruising dives like that bar for a quick fuck? Then again, who was he to question the ways of a woman? For all he knew, she could have a husband and six kids somewhere waiting for her to finish getting her rocks off.

“Let me help you with that.” His voice was thick with lust as he pushed her hands aside and deftly undid the stubborn zipper on her jeans. She grinned at him as she balanced on her haunches and pushed the denim down over her ankles.

Fully naked now, Fiona licked her lips, focusing her attention on his thick shaft. “Should have guessed you’d be going commando.”

He shrugged. “One less thing to worry about.” He grabbed one of the little foil pouches and sheathed himself. Ready for action.

Fiona reached out and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, and a jolt of erotic heat sizzled through him. Letting out a low growl, he pushed her back onto the bed and fastened his mouth on hers.

Damn, she tasted amazing. Like sunlight and laughter and sex all rolled into one. For a moment, he hesitated. She was incredible, a real beauty. He had no idea why she’d decide she wanted him, but deep down inside, he knew she deserved better. Then again, maybe he deserved a night with no regrets.

He nipped at her full bottom lip, then set about exploring her mouth with his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of her, running his hands over her silken skin, and mapping every delightful curve of her ample figure. This time he wanted to do it right and that meant foreplay, making sure she was ready for him before he just rammed himself home. He was lucky she hadn’t taken off after he’d been crass enough to fuck her in the parking lot of a bar.

Fiona shifted restlessly beneath him, and he gave his head a mental shake. She was here, and she obviously wanted him. No point in questioning his luck, just be thankful she’d picked tonight to go cruising.

Lifting his head, he flared his nostrils and took her scent deep inside himself before flicking his tongue across one tightly pebbled nipple. Her shiver of pleasure urged him on, and he settled in to lick and suck at the generous mounds. He could spend the rest of his life worshipping her perfect breasts.

“Wyatt…”

“Mmm?”

“Quit fooling around. I need to feel you inside me.”

He lifted his head to stare down into her eyes. “Are you sure? I’m trying to be a gentleman here, build a mood, work my way up gradually, you know, and it’s not easy.”

She giggled. “I don’t want a gentleman, I want the cowboy I saw riding that mechanical bull, and I want him to fuck me. Now.”

If you love this book, check out the rest of the series at Changeling Press!

Roosters - from www.ChangelingPress.com

Flash Fiction (100 words or less)

Came across this on my hard drive. It’s from a Flash Fiction challenge at Changeling Press about a decade ago but I thought it was worth reposting.

Plot Bunnies!

He felt the blood rushing to his loins as the woman bent over to whisper something in her girlfriend’s ear. The low neck of her tee shirt dipped even lower, exposing the sweet curves of her breasts. He flexed his hands, aching to slide them inside the material and cup the mounds of soft flesh. Time to make his move.

He slid off his barstool and strode across the room. What the hell? His foot slipped as something crashed into the back of his leg. A lot of somethings! Hundreds of rabbits of every shape, size, and color hopped across the floor of the bar, heading for his intended prey. Plot bunnies!

Could it be true? Had he really been drawn in by one of those? The delectable woman with the sultry dark eyes was an author!

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Happy Reading

Anne Kane

http://www.AnneKane.com