Sarah's Surrender: 

John Garrett is a cynical multi-millionaire who is rarely denied anything he wants, until the day he meets Sarah McAlister. Sarah's been hurt in the past and everything about the brooding rancher sends her defenses on high alert. She tries her best to stay out of his path, but his relentless pursuit makes him all but impossible to resist. 

The Mistress Mistake: 

Can love come from a sinful beginning? 

Jessica Conway is at the end of her rope. She desperately needs a few things that her moral values can't buy: food, shelter, a chance for a better life. 

Connor Montgomery is tortured with guilt from the past and wants only one thing from Jessica, something he's very willing to pay her for. Setting her up as his mistress seems like the perfect idea. But how long can a situation continue that was a mistake from the very beginning?

Under the Cowboy's Control: 

Selena Taylor is an American citizen determined to find her grandparents after she loses her family to the violence of the drug cartel in Mexico. Crossing the border into Texas turns out to be the easy part. 

Virtually penniless and enticingly innocent, she soon finds herself at the mercy of Travis Blake. Travis is a hard-working, self-made rancher who has never known love or softness of any kind. His only use for women is sexual, and Selena is caught on his ranch with no way out. 

While Selena plots her escape from his control, Travis ruthlessly and methodically tightens his possession and makes it impossible for her to leave. 
The struggle that follows is a clash of wills that pits purity against passion, virtue against vice and love against lust.

Jake Cooper manages to ignore his pretty, little orphaned housekeeper for three long years. But when she begins a subtle metamorphosis from girl to woman, he can’t control his consuming need for her any longer. It has been his job to protect the town all these years, but who will protect her from him? 

Virtually penniless and enticingly innocent, she soon finds herself at the mercy of Travis Blake. Travis is a hard-working, self-made rancher that has never known love or softness of any kind. His only use for women is sexual, and Selena is caught on his ranch with no way out. 

While Selena plots her escape from his control, Travis ruthlessly and methodically tightens his possession and makes it impossible for her to leave. 

The struggle that follows is a clash of wills that pits purity against passion, virtue against vice and love against lust. 

Blurb: Damian Rule is an ultra-staid businessman who likes his life just so. He wears his hair cut short; he demands his business affairs be organized, and he insists that his women be impeccably groomed and conservative in both speech and appearance. When he meets Angie Ross for the first time, he sees a hot, beautiful, gothic mess. With her fishnet stockings and spiked leather cuffs, she's wildly inappropriate for his long term needs. But for the short term? She'll do just fine.

 Excerpt: Angie followed Damian's secretary across what seemed like miles of plush carpet and walked into the office when indicated. She was still in a state of shock; she'd found out in the reception area that he didn't merely work in the downtown high-rise, he owned the building.

She heard the door snap closed behind her, and with her heart catching, she faltered just inside the large room. Her gaze was caught and held by dark eyes as Damian leaned against a desk of solid mahogany while standing completely still, obviously awaiting her arrival. His eyes were both sharp and hooded, his body held in a pose of relaxation that seemed inconsistent with the almost tangible electricity that radiated from him in waves.

Her pulse pounding, her footsteps stalled completely. Before she could get a word out, he pushed off the desk and began to track her across the office, his muscles corded and his eyes reflecting a sheen of purpose. The space between them narrowed rapidly as his eyes fell to her throat and then scanned her body quickly before lifting to her face again.

Any semblance of a smile dissolved as his expression hardened imperceptibly; a raw sizzle filled the air as his brooding features reflected a harsh, atavistic hunger that almost brought Angie to her knees as he stood not six inches away in all his tall, masculine glory.

He stood almost indolently for the beat of three seconds before reaching out and seizing her with a dominant force that gave her not an ounce of choice in the matter.

Contemporary Romance: Book Two of the Louisiana Liaisons series

Baton Rouge police officer Jake Fontenot has wanted Amy for months. Under the impression she’s married, he silently agonizes over the woman he can’t have. –Divorced mom and teacher Amy Sanford refuses to get involved with a police officer. Through a combination of white lies and evasive maneuvers, she purposely stays out of the handsome lieutenant’s reach. Jake finds out the truth one dark night when Amy is stranded and scared on the side of the interstate. Using blackmail and intimidation to get what he wants, he soon has her under his control and embroiled in a game of ruthless seduction and sensual persuasion. 

A fateful trip into the city delivers unsuspecting single mom Jenny Babin into the hands of ruthless Richard Bergeron. 

Richard lives in a dark underworld where money is won and lost with a roll of the dice. 

Jenny is drawn into an erotic relationship filled with passion, dominance and dark persuasion. Can she escape Richard's control before it's too late?

Jessica Conway is at the end of her rope. She desperately needs a few things that her moral values can't buy: food, shelter, a chance for a better life. 

Connor Montgomery is tortured with guilt from the past and wants only one thing from Jessica, something he's very willing to pay her for. Setting her up as his mistress seems like the perfect idea. But how long can a situation continue that was a mistake from the very beginning? 

When Logan Crenshaw gets home from a business trip and finds his wife compromising her safety, a flip switches within and his temper goes off the Richter scale.

Excerpt: With the contractor gone from his house, Logan turned back to Lauren, who was avoiding eye contact with him as she wiped the dust from her hands onto the back of her blue jean shorts. Shorts, for god’s sake . . . which she’d probably put on that morning, not giving a single thought to the strange man she was about to let enter the house. This just kept getting worse and worse; he felt his temperature kick up another notch as disbelief at her actions held him in its grip.

It didn’t once occur to him that she’d cheat on him, or even flirt with another man; he believed in her fidelity that much. But Jesus Christ, did she have to have such a trusting nature? Would she never learn? Did she think the world was one huge, safe playground? Somewhere in the furthest recesses of his mind, the knowledge that he wasn't giving her enough credit entered his head; his wife was incredibly brilliant and capable, but he refused to allow the thought to soothe him. He was angry, probably more angry than he’d ever been in his life, and the reason he was so angry was because she had scared him half-to-death, and that was the only thing he could concentrate on at the moment.
While he held himself still, trying to breathe evenly, trying to get his raging emotions under control, he ran his gaze over her, up and down, just to make sure she was all in one piece.
Her tongue shot out to lick her lips and despite his anger, he felt a bolt of white-hot arousal pierce his guts. He could clearly see that she knew he was angry; her lips quivered before she spoke. “Hi, babe . . . you’re home early.”
Ahhh…so his little wife was feeling a bit apprehensive at this point and well she should be. His lips flattened as he took a single step toward her. “Sure am. What ‘ya doing, hon?” he spoke the words way too innocuously, allowing his tone to ring with sarcasm.
“N-nothing.”
He took another two steps forward and she quickly stepped back, bumping the back of her head on the slanted beam behind her. He winced for her and came to a halt; no matter how furious he was, he didn’t want her to hurt herself. “It didn’t look like ‘nothing’, babe,” he replied slowly.
“No, it’s just the . . . just the—” her words trailed off as she motioned behind her toward where she’d been on the floor of the attic only moments ago.
Logan didn’t take his eyes from her to see what she might be indicating. “Just the what?”
She shook her head, as if she had no idea what to say.
He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Lauren. Come here.”
She glanced away before looking back at him. “No, I’m good.”
At her denial, he felt his insides electrify with aggression, but he attempted to keep a cool head, even as the heated blood roaring through his veins reminded him he was on a short leash. “Come here, baby.”
She licked her lips. “Are you mad?”
He took another slow, deep breath. Oh, yeah, he was mad. “Why would I be mad?” he asked a little too sarcastically as he placed his hands on the rafter above his head, feeling his biceps bulge against his short-sleeve t-shirt.

Blurb: When Courtney Powell is orphaned at seventeen, she loses everything and goes to live with her widowed godmother in St. Louis. From the beginning, the woman's grown children accept her into their family. . . but there's something about the middle brother that causes an inexplicable wariness within her. When she finally emerges from her grief several years later, it becomes apparent that somewhere along the way, without her input and much to her anxiety, she's become Nick Rule's exclusive property. 

Excerpt: Nick crossed his arms over his chest. "What are your plans? You're coming home, right?"

"Yeah, probably," she answered, uncertain.

 His jaw clenched. "Probably? What does that mean?"

At his tone, her spine stiffened. "I need to find a job. If possible, I want to be in a place that's familiar to me. That's either Florida or Missouri."

"St. Louis," he narrowed it down emphatically.

She nodded her head, but negated that with, "Maybe."

With her answer, he pushed off the wall and began to head toward her. Her stomach clenched with hot anticipation. His footsteps stalled when he was less than two feet away and he seemed to shake himself. His features became strained as he held himself in suspended motion. "You promised me you'd come back to St. Louis."

"I know," she agreed softly.

"You need to make good on that. Your promise was the only reason I let you leave in the first place."

At the look in his eyes, she felt like she had to settle something with him. "Nick," she began slowly, "You didn't let me leave. I wasn't yours to control." She studied him, noting the anger that slowly spread across his face at her words. She continued, trying to show a bit of independence, that truthfully, she couldn't care less about. "I want to go back to St. Louis. If I don't get a job here, then after graduation, I'll--"

He cut her off when he stepped into her personal space with a glare. "Not mine?" She backed up a step and he followed her until she bumped into the back of the sofa. He didn't touch her but the threat was there. When she came to a halt, he repeated incredulously, "Not mine?" and reached down and fingered the necklace that she always wore. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as he gripped the charm that dangled from it. His eyes narrowed and he asked for the third time with a ferocity that couldn't be ignored, "Not mine?"

The oxygen stuck in her throat and she shook her head, as she remained trapped by his gaze.

He tilted his head as if in sarcastic thought. "If you don't belong to me, who the hell do you think you belong to?" he asked in a far-too soft voice that didn't reflect any gentleness at all.

When she remained mute, he continued, "I don't see anybody else taking care of you. I don't see anybody else flying halfway across the country to make sure you're all right and that there's nobody trying to take advantage of you." He sucked in oxygen and continued, "And who, exactly, do you think pays your bills?"

She swallowed and leaned away from him, feeling the pull from the chain around her throat, but he didn't let go. She glanced down at the tendons corded in his neck and then back up to the fire in his eyes as he continued, "Who do you think paid for these useless little pajamas you're wearing? Who do you think pays for all your clothes, the food you eat, the allowance you get?" His eyes held hers with ruthless intent. "Who do you think paid for that pretty little car you drive?"

Guilt running through her from all the things his family had supplied over the years, she licked her lips and whispered, "The corporation."

He began shaking his head as if she had it all wrong and a new agitation took hold of her senses. "Not the corporation?" she asked quietly.

"Nope. Not the corporation." His eyes blistered into hers. "Me. Just me."  Rule's Property. Key words: contemporary romance, alpha-male, House of Rule, series romance

Blurb: First Crush . . . First Kiss . . . Only Love. Hannah McIntyre has been infatuated with Josh Turner . . . well, forever. But he's older than she is, quiet and intense and . . . way out of her league. An Alpha-Male in the making. Josh Turner wants Hannah more than life itself. She's perfect, shiny and new . . . but she's a McIntyre. She's from the richest family in the county, and he's a Turner, from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks. And to make matters worse, there's no love lost between their families. So what do you do when someone else is going to step in and take the girl you'll die if you can't have? There's only one thing you can do. . . you reach out and take her.

Excerpt: Hannah attempted to stay away from the small strip of fencing that separated the border between the McIntyre and Turner lands. But almost every afternoon, when the weather allowed, she climbed on one of the four-wheelers and drove the fence line until she ended up at the place that overlooked Turner property. She did this for weeks and never saw anyone.

And then one day, she hit pay dirt.

Josh was working on the old well house that stood twenty or so feet over the fence line.

She saw him glance up when he heard the hum of the engine and nerves tightened in her stomach as he stood to his full height and turned toward where she approached the fence. She’d been waiting for this, no matter how much she lied to herself, and when he began wiping his forehead on his shirtsleeve and walking over to the fence, she let the engine idle and waited.

She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that said it wasn’t good.

He came directly in front of her, and stood on the opposite side of the barbed-wire fence, his brilliant green eyes running over her. She stayed silent and concentrated on the tic in his cheek, and tried to calm her raging heartbeat.

His words when he spoke were low, controlled, and as smooth as whiskey. “I’m thinking this can’t be a coincidence, princess.”

Embarrassed by the truth, Hannah immediately thought to deny it, but she didn’t want to lie. She remained silent as she tried to think of a response that wouldn’t completely humiliate her.

She waited too long and he began to remonstrate, “I kind of had the idea I’d already made myself plain. Maybe you didn’t understand?” His words were low and heated and even though she heard the controlled anger, his voice washed through her like cold water on a hot summer day.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to softly apologize.

Josh continued to stare at her without speaking, and then in a rush of movement, his booted foot stepped on the second rung of barbed-wire and forced it down as his gloved hand simultaneously pulled up the third rung, and that easily, in a move that ranchers had been using for decades, he bent down and slid unscathed through the treacherous wire and stood in front of her.

He pulled the leather work gloves off one at a time and stuffed them in his back pocket. Then he reached out and cut the engine with a twist of the key.

He stood over her where she sat on the cracked vinyl seat of the four-wheeler, her body turned slightly to his. He was so close she could see the beads of perspiration on his face and smell the heady, delicious aroma from the sweat that drenched his t-shirt. The masculine combination was almost more than she could stand.

Her eyes started to slip closed in a sharp, shocking, agony of arousal.

They flew open again when she felt his rough fingers on her chin.

His eyes glittered down at her, his nostrils flaring. “Hannah baby, we have to get this straight between us. Maybe I should have spelled it out better. Do you know anything about the deadbeat who calls himself my father?  He’s always drunk. He’s in and out of jail--all the time. The sheriff watches me like a hawk because he thinks I’m just like him. He expects me to cause trouble one way or the other.” His thumb caressed her chin gently in direct opposition to the fierceness of his voice. “Now what do you think the sheriff would do if I suddenly took up with the fifteen-year-old town princess?” His eyes glittered down at her, giving her a moment to digest his words before his hand tightened on her jaw once again and he continued, “You need to stay away from me. Don’t make this harder on me than it already is. You don’t know what it’s doing to my insides--knowing I can have you, but I can’t.” His fingers unclenched from around her jaw and then became caressing once again. “You understand?”

Hannah tried to answer. She licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak but the words stalled again as Josh’s eyes fell to her mouth and his fingers tightened on her face. Her throat closed up and no words came.

His eyes tangled with hers and seconds slipped by until an agonized, ferocious look crossed his features and he bit out, “Repeat after me, princess. Josh wants me.”

Shock and heat hit her system and she gasped.

His fingers shifted, slipped into her hair and his voice hissed out, “I’m serious. Repeat it. Josh wants me.”

“Josh, please—“

“Now!” he barked and she jumped.

“Josh w-wants me,” her voice came out shaky and soft.

“Josh wants me so bad his guts are tied in knots of constant pain,” he pounded the words through his teeth and waited.

His eyes seared into hers and she attempted to answer. “Josh wants me s-so bad—“ she found it impossible to say and her words dwindled off.

He reached up and his fingers twisted through her hair until he was holding her face in both of his strong hands. He continued to punch out his words in third person. “He thinks about me constantly.” As he spoke, his gaze ran over her lips, her nose, and the hair that he held in his hands. “He lives from one hour to the next for the day he can sink into me.”

Hannah’s insides were lacerated by his primal words. It was almost more than her youth and innocence could handle. At the same time, an exquisite pleasure infiltrated her system at what he was telling her. He was telling her the truth. He wanted to be with her just as much as she wanted to be with him. Her body shook as the depth of his need and what he was trying to convey to her sank in.

He continued in a harsh biting tone, “But I don’t want Josh to go to prison.”

She was silent as she trembled in his hold.

“Say it,” he bit out.

A single tear escaped from her eye.

“Say it,” he growled, even as his thumb shot out and wiped away the tear.

Hannah sucked in a shuddering breath. “I d-don’t want Josh to go to p-prison.” Her eyes closed as more tears welled over.

His hands lifted from her and he took a step back.

“Good girl," he praised. "Do us both a favor and remember that the next time you come looking for me. Repeat it to yourself if it helps. I’m dead serious, Hannah. You may feel grown-up, you may even know what you want, but the State of Texas doesn’t agree with you.”

He took another step toward the fence and turned once more to stare into her eyes. His voice softened only slightly. “You have to have mercy on me, princess. There’s only so much I can take before I’ll snap.” Josh and Hannah, Redwood Falls, Book One. Keywords: New Adult, contemporary romance, Bad boy-good girl, alpha-male, virgin, series romance

A short novella by Lynda Chance to get a feel for her alpha-males. Blurb: When Logan Crenshaw comes home from work and discovers his wife is keeping a secret from him, he goes a little crazy. He steals her off to the Caribbean until she confesses what's wrong; but not before he loses it and goes completely territorial.

Excerpt: Logan tightened his hands in Lauren's hair and her eyes flew open. He could see it clearly, her arousal, the almost-drugged look that had always fascinated him so much. He encircled her wrist in his hand and locked it behind her back in a swift move that imprisoned her. "You like that, baby?"

"Yes." Her eyelids fluttered; he could tell she was barely able to hold them open.

He rewarded her answer, stroking into her, in and out, and in again. He stayed there, deep within her, and when her eyes closed completely, he dropped his lips to her ear and sank his teeth around her lobe. "You're mine," he said in an uncontrollable hiss. "That hasn't changed." He took another slamming stroke and then stilled again. "That will never change." He bit down on her flesh. "You understand me? Never." --- Keywords: contemporary romance, free, freebie, free read, perma-free, alpha-male 

 Garrett Rule has no room in his life for conniving women. When he finds himself inconveniently obsessed with Maria Alvarez, the most conspiring woman of them all, he doesn’t know which is stronger, his need to punish her or the need he feels to have her under his complete sexual control. Luckily for him, he doesn’t plan on choosing; he’ll take both.

 Excerpt:

As Maria stood in the break room, she heard the click of the door shutting and the lock sliding into place. Without turning and looking, she knew who'd done it; she knew who stood behind her. Her hands shook as she made a fist around the coffee filter she'd just pulled from the box.

"You knew Villareal was coming today, I believe I mentioned that yesterday." Garrett rasped in a low, heated tone.

She had braced herself for a bark, but when he began speaking, that's not what she got. His voice was low and quiet, and the fact that she knew more about his personality wasn't something that was soothing her now. No, it was scaring the crap out of her. Garrett always barked when he was angry. The fact that he felt he had to keep his vocal chords under ruthless control now only proved how furious he really was.

"Turn around," he bit out in a voice that brooked no denial.

She turned slowly and leaned against the counter for support.

"You understand his reputation with women?"

Not fully understanding the question, Maria narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"He’s indiscriminate. He’ll do anything on two legs," he elaborated, gritting the words through his teeth. “I told you that once before—he’s a player.”

She sucked in a breath. "And you think this has something to do with me, how?"

He stared at her for the count of three beats and then pushed off the door. Without hesitation, he advanced on her until he was standing only inches away, invading her personal space. He lifted her chin and his eyes contained a fire that almost scorched her where she stood.

His voice when he spoke reflected only a small slip of control, but Maria knew him well enough to know how affected he truly was. "We have a lot of crap going on between us," he announced as his eyes ran over her face, down her neck and landed on the madly beating pulse in her throat. Sliding his hand from her chin, his thumb landed on the spot that told of her rapidly beating heart. He pressed on it, with just a hint of his strength, and raised his eyes back to hers. "I get that you've made it your mission in life to continue to keep me off-balance.” His thumb slid up and down her throat before pressing into her pulse-point again. "Why you feel the need, I don’t have a clue.” He took in a deep breath. “But this dress . . . " His voice trailed off before he began again. "You, in this dress. You know how good you look in it. You knew I’d remember it. You had to know what I’d be thinking about the second I saw you in it." His eyes turned into gleaming slits of accusation. "And you knew he would be here today, watching you. You did it on purpose."

"No, I--" She began, knowing he spoke the truth, but not about to admit to it. Why had she worn the freaking dress? Why was she playing with fire? Was it because she’d let him have his way in so many areas that she needed some sort of affirmation of her own control?

He interrupted her thoughts and her fiercely beating heart. "You need to be careful with the game you're playing. I’ve been letting you have the upper hand, been letting you win your little game, because it humors me. But be careful, Maria—don’t take it too far." His hand spread out over her neck and his fingers pulsed against her windpipe in a shocking, sexual threat. "Trust me when I tell you that you don't have to go out of your way to provoke my jealousy. I'm already jealous. I already want to kill every man who looks at you. I already want to take you home to St. Louis, tie you to my bed, lock the door and throw away the key." 

Excerpt: Lauren bent and grabbed her purse and Logan stood to his feet, frowning. "You're wearing that?" he asked with a grimace.

Lauren glanced down and looked at herself. She wore a red blouse with the shoulders cut out, black pleated shorts and stilettos. She glanced back up and saw his intent stare and had to smile. "This outfit is conservative. I'll have you know these are lined, linen shorts."

He didn't comment and Lauren received the impression that he couldn't. She almost laughed; she'd never even remotely seen him speechless before.

His eyes continued to run over her and when he didn't speak, she said, "We're going to a dance club. I'm twenty-five years old and you know what they say: you're only young once. I'm going to be among friends and besides, I'm sure you wouldn't let any harm come to me, right?"

His gaze slid back to hers and examined her thoroughly. His look became territorial and Lauren was hit with the same shaky feeling she always got when he was this close to her. Butterflies started fluttering in her stomach and her knees weakened. He walked forward with a purpose and picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger until he stopped at her scalp. She felt the tug on her hair center all the way to the juncture between her thighs. "Did I just hear you correctly?" The words rattled from his throat in a brusque, possessive tone. "Did you just grant me the right to be the man who protects you?"

Lauren's heart began beating viciously in her chest. She heard his question through a roaring in her ears. Her remark had been off-handed. She hadn't really meant anything serious with her question, so why was he taking it so seriously and why did she think this was suddenly a pivotal moment in their relationship? She tried to think, tried to get her brain to function. She licked her lips and tried to put the ball back in his court. "Do you . . . do you want to be that man?"

His answer was a silent one. A glimmer of heat exploded in his eyes and he began nodding his head, slowly, up and down. With one hand wrapped around her hair, his other hand snaked up and wrapped around her cheek and lifted her face to his. He bent down and kissed her, quickly but firmly, before raising his head again. "Okay. It's a done deal."

The intense look in his eyes was scaring her. Scaring her and exciting her all at the same time. Her mother had never told her that there were men like this one living on the planet. Nobody had ever warned her. "Okay, yeah, but--" she began.

He cut her off. "No buts."

Lauren was excited and nervous and panicky. "Yeah, there's a 'but'."

"And what would that be?" he questioned slowly and succinctly, only seeming to be humoring her.

"I guess this means we're . . . exclusive--" she began, but he cut her off again.

"You got that right," he breathed out in a possessive hiss.

"Okay, so it's just you and me, but that doesn't mean . . . "

"Doesn't mean what?" he questioned shortly, obviously wanting no conditions on the relationship whatsoever.

She narrowed her eyes and gathered her nerves together. "It doesn't mean that you make the rules. You need to understand that going in. You're not the boss of me, you don't tell me what to do, what to wear, or what time I have to be home. We're together, but we're not married or anything like that, and I'm all grown-up and have been for some time and I make my own rules."

His eyes impaled hers but Lauren could tell he was listening to her mandate carefully and strategically. Oh, man! She'd been right! It had been a strategy all along! And suddenly she knew that whether she'd given him an opening or not, he'd planned on having a confrontation with her tonight about . . . boundaries. And she'd played into his hands with that statement about him not letting her come to any harm. She really needed to watch what she said around this man.

His hands stayed plastered to her skull, and his body filled with a tension that was palpable. "All right, I agree," he answered in a voice that reflected his mercurial mood. "We're not married and I don't own you. You're a big girl and can live by your own rules, for now. All I'm going to say is one thing: You called it. We're together." His hand left her face and slid down and cupped the heat between her legs firmly and aggressively. "And this is mine." His fingers tightened. "Nobody touches you but me, and if somebody lays so much as a finger on a single strand of your hair, they'll wish they were dead."

Lauren's jaw dropped and she couldn't seem to close her mouth as he stared down at her.

"You got that, babe?" He hissed out while his hand between her legs held her in an unyielding grasp.

Lauren sucked in a ragged breath and nodded her head, too stunned to speak. Oh, dear God. She'd just released the Kraken.   Pursuit: Keywords, contemporary romance, alpha-male romance, steamy romance, Logan and Lauren