Thursday, July 30, 2015

My Version of a Playground!

Copyright: Tessie Bradford, 2011

Vivian Walcourt is completely out of her conservative, sheltered element when she finds herself at an ultra-exclusive adult club. Her free spirited best friend may think she’s in love with one of the owners, but Vivian doesn’t believe in whirlwind courtships.
Paul Landis never imagined the woman who has haunted his dreams for years would walk into his club with his partner’s fiancĂ©. More beautiful than ever, unattached, and worked into a heightened state of horny by the evening’s entertainment, he sweeps her away to experience the very special pleasures found behind the closed doors of Sensations.

“You okay?” he asked, putting a few inches between them so he could gaze down into her passion-dazed face. He didn’t, however, remove his hand.
“That was wonderful,” she replied with a shy smile.
“That was only the beginning, darlin’. I want us horizontal with a whole lot of naked, now.”
“I don’t think I can walk very far.”
“Why, your legs wobbly?”
“No, well yes, but the hand between them is going to slow me down.”
“You’re magnificent,” he laughed, removing his digits and dropping a kiss on the end of her nose. He swept her up into his arms again and headed for the massive bed.
“Um, Paul, exactly where are we?” He watched her eyes widen as she glanced around the room.
“In one of the members only suites,” he said, setting her down on the edge of the mattress. He removed her cardigan and started undoing the buttons of her blouse.
“What was the inspiration, the freakin’ Tower of London?” 
This is what he’d been afraid of. Sensations had a number of highly romantic suites and those that catered to various fetishes. They were in one of the latter. He’d hoped to be able to keep her in enough of an elevated state of horny that she wouldn’t be paying attention to her surroundings.
“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. It’s just you, me, and this big comfy bed.” She helped him remove her shirt while craning to continue looking around.
“That’s a St. Andrew’s cross, isn’t it? Oh, and that’s a spanking bench, right? And, I don’t know what it’s called, but that saddle thing over there, is that the kind where a dildo’s attached and you ride it?” He watched in stunned disbelief as Vivian pointed at the various pieces of equipment. “What’s in the armoire?”
Paul burst out laughing. “I knew it, all conservative on the outside, wild and crazy underneath.” He was surprised when she lowered her eyes, and her cheeks turned pink. He knelt down and took her hands in his. “I meant that as a compliment, Viv.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression, Paul. What just happened is a first for me, not the getting off part, but the speed and sort of uncontrolled part. A big side effect of not being wild and crazy is having a shit ton of alone time. I read a lot, and watch movies. I don’t have a great deal of real world experience, just a really active fantasy world.” He saw in her body language how difficult it was for her to say those words. He gathered her close.

“Darlin’, you’re a dream come true. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me these things. What do you say? Let’s bring some of our fantasies to life.”

Enjoy a wonderful weekend!
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Saturday, July 25, 2015

Happy Saturday!

Excerpt copyright 2015 Fran Lee

He glanced at his watch and slipped off the bed at 5:30 a.m. and got fully dressed, staying quiet so he wouldn’t wake her. Then he packed all his things, and eased out the door to cross the street to the little coffee shop that was just opening. He ordered two breakfasts to go, and headed back across the street just in time to see Curley coming down the outer stairs from the top row of rooms, carrying his jeans and his shirt over his arm, clad in his skivvies and his boots.

Looking like shit warmed over, his friend blinked blearily at him, and glanced down at the sacks of food in his hands. “Ughhh…thanks, but I think I’d puke if I tried to eat…”

“It isn’t for you. And keep it quiet. Put your damn pants on. I have a guest, and I don’t want you scaring the shit out of her.”

Curley ran a hand over his heavy morning beard, and lifted a brow. “Her? You caught yourself a bunny?”

“No…go on and get a shower and I’ll explain later. Just don’t wander out of the bathroom naked, okay?”

 The lump in Curley’s bed was still there, and it rolled over with a little groan. Flint practically shoved Curley into the bathroom and set the bags of food on the night stand. He unloaded the carryout containers of scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, ham and hash browns, and when the smells of the food wafted around him, the lump under the covers shoved up and a bed-wrinkled face poked out, a hand shoving mussed hair back from it.

“Oh, my God…that smells so damn good!”

She shoved the covers off and crawled on all fours to the edge of the bed, sliding curvy bare legs out. The socks had sagged down to her ankles while she slept. He drew a deep breath as she leaned across him to grab one of the steaming containers. “Eggs? Oh, and ham? I think I love you…” Her face was pink as she glanced up at him. “Can I have some?”

Unable to spit out a single word, Flint pulled a paper plate off the little stack the waitress had given him, and started shoveling hot food onto it, adding a fresh hot biscuit and a dollop of country gravy. He watched her scoot right up to the night stand and shovel a huge spoonful into her mouth, making happy, satisfied sounds that made his cock stiffen like there’d be no tomorrow.

He barely heard the shower turn off, and he said in a choked tone, “Curley’s back. We were hoping to haul ass outta here by seven, ‘cuz we still have to pick up supplies. I was thinking…we could stop at a Laundromat and wash and dry your things. How’s that sound? They’re still pretty damp.”

She blinked up at him as she wrapped her lips around a spoonful of scrambled egg, and his gut twisted, wondering what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his painfully stiff cock. “I’ve put you to enough trouble, haven’t I? I really don’t have enough cash to pay for the Laundromat and still buy a bus ticket. I can wear damp clothes. They’ll dry out on the way. You’ve done more to help me than you can ever imagine.”

Curley came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, water from his blond hair dripping down his naked body as he padded out to grab his back pack. Blue eyes the color of a summer sky flicked over their guest, and Flint glared furiously at him as he fished out jeans and a shirt, and padded back into the bathroom, his bare ass disappearing behind the closed door. 

She sat there, chewing on a bite of food, and after a moment she said, “You guys sure as hell don’t worry much about modesty, do you?”

She smiled, gulping down some orange juice and grabbing another biscuit.

Flint watched the little grin curve her lips upward, and he couldn’t help chuckling. “Curly has good reason to believe he’s God’s gift to women, and he doesn’t bother to hide it. Sorry about that.”

“Well, he might think so, but you’ve got him beat all to hell…” her voice was almost too low for him to catch her words.  

Win a copy of Flint!  Comment on this post and tell me which Fran Lee book you liked best. I will drop all comments into a hat and draw a winner on Wednesday July 29th!  Have fun!

Fran Lee

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Looking for a Quickie??

Fulfilling Bess
Copyright: Tessie Bradford, March 2015 


Bess Wilks assumes she is about to be sitting through another monotonous office meeting. Oh well, these gatherings do provide perfect opportunities to test out new recipes for her catering business on her willing coworkers. When Darrin Larabey walks into the conference room, Bess is eternally grateful that the treat table is close enough to use for support. Despite the passing of nine years since they’ve seen each other, her body instantly heats to boiling and all manner of decadent thoughts keep her from concentrating on the business at hand.

As vivid images of making love with Bess in every way imaginable dance in his head, Darrin can barely get through his presentation. The woman who has starred in his dreams for years is sitting within arm’s reach, flushed and fidgeting in her chair. The passage of time has obviously done nothing to diminish their smoking hot chemistry and now he’s not a newbie intern and she’s not his boss. The erotic possibilities are endless. 


 “I’m going to help you out of these wet clothes,” he announced in a soft, sexy voice.

Bess trembled, watching the star of her fantasies brush a feather-light kiss just below her earlobe as he popped open the top button of her shirt. This situation called for one of the hundreds of sultry replies she’d constructed over the years, but she had no time to speak. A loud meow sounded simultaneously as a cat landed with a thud on the tiny table. She barely caught her purse before it went sliding over the edge.

“What the hell?” Darrin asked, taking a step back.

“This would be Rex.” She sighed, scratching the now-purring animal on the top of his head. “He gets excited when I come home.” The cat stood up on his hind legs, rested his front claws on her chest and brushed his face against hers. “And this is Peter.” She glanced down to the other cat that was walking around and between her and Darrin’s feet, rubbing up against them.

“Guys, don’t slow the roll here,” Darrin said, looking at the animals. “My excitement trumps yours on every level there is.”

Bess quickly picked Rex off the table and set him on the floor. “Shoo, both of you,” she said, adding hand waves for emphasis. They reluctantly sauntered away.

Darrin grasped her hips and gently pulled her to him. For a moment, they silently gazed into each other’s eyes. Bess hoped her desire was as evident as his. The first, light brush of his lips to hers was a surprise that sent her pulse skyrocketing. Once, twice, three times he chastely kissed her while repositioning to fully enfold her in his strong embrace. Bess wrapped her arms around his waist.

He lifted his head slightly and flashed a devilish grin. “I’ve wanted you for so god damned long.”

Darrin claimed her mouth with wild, unbridled lust. The intensity was exactly what she craved. He teased her mercilessly by sliding his tongue along hers in time with his thrusting hips. Bess held on for dear life while meeting him in kind. She yanked his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and moaned loudly when her palms met bare skin. She pressed her abdomen against his erection and ground scandalously. Her pussy drenched her panties, and her clit throbbed for attention. He nipped her bottom lip then broke their kiss.

“Where’s the nearest bed?” he asked, breathing heavily while making short work of the rest of her blouse buttons.
“Down the hall over there,” she answered with a tilt of her head to the left.

“Too far.” Darrin kept a tight hold on her as he quickly scanned the room. “Couch,” he announced, moving them in that direction.

Have a wonderful weekend!
Facebook: tessie.bradford.1

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Another excerpt?

excerpt copyright 2015 Fran Lee

 Oh. My. God.
Shutting off the faltering motor, she tossed her designer sunglasses onto the passenger seat and slid out of the car to stare in dismay at the sight of the log cabin standing before her.

What have I done?
Had she truly thought this would be a restful, wonderful rustic vacation in the desert? Her eyes slid over the old-fashioned hand-pump that stood in front of the cabin next to an ancient bathtub with claw feet. This must be the full bath. At least in New York she’d had running water. And a toilet. The outhouse she could just see to the far left of the area was the last frigging straw.

Oh no, no, no!
With a fastidious shudder, she decided that she would much rather turn right around and drive back to the nearest town. They’d had decent motels, at least. With indoor toilets.

When she saw that old man again, she was gonna give him a piece of her mind. Damn if she hadn’t instantly trusted the guy. He had seemed so honest and so nice. But then, con men came in all shapes and ages. She should have realized when she’d paid him the pittance he’d asked that the place would be a total disaster. You get what you pay for…

But her friggin’ inner voice had told her to trust the old fart.

Deciding that a hasty retreat was far more appealing than staying, she climbed back behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition, resigned to admitting the complete failure of her endeavor. Her heart pounded dully inside her chest as the SUV’s motor started jerkily, then died again, refusing to start a second time.

“No, God…please…don’t let this be happening to me!” she whispered, and tried again. As the motor grumbled and cranked, it began to get less and less noisy, until it was just a series of sharp clicks…then nothing.

She swallowed hard. She knew that sound couldn’t be good. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a mechanic or parts store for at least sixty miles. She had no idea what was under the dust-bathed hood of this huge vehicle. Looking under there would do her no good, because she had no notion of what to look for or how to fix it. And she wasn’t up to a long hike in a hundred-plus-degree heat in freaking designer boots.

Not even in the fancy running shoes she’d packed.

With an angry snarl at her stupidity, she dragged out her phone and climbed up onto the luggage rack of the SUV once more. She twisted from side to side but not one single, tiny bar appeared. She swore loudly and angrily, then turned on the GPS and slowly pressed 9-1-1. Even in areas without a signal, the emergency GPS might allow someone to find her. A passing plane. An alien spaceship. Maybe even a passing eagle?

Damn…I wish.

Climbing back down onto the gravel and dust, she heaved a deep sigh of resignation and trudged over to climb the unpainted wooden steps to the wide porch that spanned the entire front of the place. When she got her hands on that old man, she was going to strangle him. But for now, all she could do was see how bad the situation was and make the best of it. At least until help arrived. If it ever does.

After all, she had dragged along a supply of canned goods and some cases of bottled water, and could manage to make it through a night or two until someone picked up the GPS signal. Hopefully. She wouldn’t starve to death. And she certainly wouldn’t freeze. She irritably ran the back of one hand over her perspiring brow.

The door opened without being obstinate. No rusty hinges here. The expected smells of disuse were absent. She stepped inside the surprisingly tidy cabin and crossed the bare wooden floor. Glancing around, she moved to the only window and tugged aside the sun-faded curtain. The window glass was clean. In fact, everything seemed to be clean. The open door and the window gave the only illumination to the interior of the utilitarian single room. It looked to be about fifteen feet by fifteen feet. She checked the inside edge of the door for a light switch. Nope. Great. Her gaze slid to the vintage sconces on two of the rough log walls.  

Oil lamps? You have got to be shitting me!

But then, there had been no electrical wires or poles anywhere along the rutted road she’d been following. Obtuse, much? Any sane woman would have noticed this fact. But then, shouldn’t there be a generator, at least? This wasn’t exactly the Stone Age…or was it?

She bit her lower lip and turned full circle to survey the cabin she had rented. The floors were swept and canned goods and spices lined the open-fronted shelves along the wall. A pair of free-standing hurricane lanterns stood on one of the heavy shelves. No fridge. Good thing she hadn’t brought perishables. 

She winced at the sight of what passed for a sink, staring disbelievingly at a small hand pump standing over a galvanized bucket that had been counter-sunk into a large wooden cabinet of sorts. An old-fashioned iron wood stove stood in the corner just beyond a small table with two chairs, and on the other wall stood a narrow bed…cot…whatever. The furniture all stood along the walls, leaving the center area—all eight or so feet of it—open.

Well…she had expected rustic.

But I got totally ancient.

Chellie moved methodically around the small space. The stove was cold, but a half-full coffeepot sat on the stove top extension, which was supported by a metal leg of sorts. The coffee smelled strong but not as if it’d been there for months. It looked as if someone had very recently been in the cabin.

Or is living here.

Oh shit!

Was there another cabin out here besides the one she’d rented? Obviously this one was already occupied.

Her heart tripped nervously. She swallowed the tightness in her throat as she moved across the room to the old chest of drawers that stood against the far wall, a foot or so from the tiny “bed”. Tugging open one of the drawers, she groaned at the sight of men’s jeans, a couple of folded flannel shirts, a couple of T-shirts, socks and underwear. She lifted a pair of soft, well-worn cotton boxer briefs between thumb and forefinger and fought not to throw a tantrum. This place was most definitely occupied. “I fucking don’t believe this! What more can possibly go wrong today?” she said to no one in particular.

A tingling sensation ran along her spine.

A low chuckle behind her made her stiffen.

“Usually complete strangers don’t just walk in and start checking out my skivvies…but you, I don’t mind.” The rough, deep voice came from the direction of the open door at her back and she jerked around with a startled cry to face the intruder.

Skinwalker's Woman is available at Ellora's Cave. Click the link embedded in the title above. 

Friday, July 17, 2015

Louisa Bacio's Claiming the She Wolf!

Black Hills Wolves
Claiming the She-Wolf
by Louisa Bacio
When her older brother leaves the Black Hills to go to college, Tala Graystone stays behind, determined to restore their dilapidated home into a B&B for the pack. As more people return to the area, the need for temporary housing increases. Now, if only she can find someone to help with the heavy lifting.

Yas Collins fled Los Lobos as a child with his mother. As he struggles with his wolf and overpowering shifts, a desire for nature and the forest strikes hard. Black Hills, South Dakota, beckons him. With a background in construction, he easily finds work at Tala’s dilapidated B&B, but not everyone in town greets him with open arms.

As the remodel gets underway, Tala and Yas fight their growing attraction. Yas doesn’t trust his wolf urges around beautiful B&B owner. The she-wolf, however, has other plans.

Claiming the She-Wolf
Black Hills Wolves

On sale: July 17, 2015

Available for pre-order via Amazon.

Advanced reviews: “Scorching hot romance can only win your heart and leave you looking for more of this series!” – Roxie Ferguson, Goodreads

About the Author:
A Southern California native, Louisa Bacio can’t imagine living far away from the ocean. The multi-published author of erotic romance enjoys writing within all realms – from short stories to full-length novels.

Bacio shares her household with a supportive husband, two daughters growing “too fast,” and a multitude pet craziness: Two dogs, five fish tanks, an aviary, hamsters, rabbits and hermit crabs. In her other life, she teaches college classes in English, journalism and popular culture.

Contact Details:

Enjoy the following excerpt for Claiming the She-Wolf:

A growl from low in his throat threatened to escape. The rumble started in his chest, and he fought to keep it down.
She turned, looking down at him. “Did you say something?”
“Umm, no. Just clearing my throat.”
He needed to get his base instincts under control. Recent research showed that wolves in the wild killed in order to protect their domains and to get more space. He didn’t want to be ruled by his wolf. He’d grown up in the city, with humans, not out in the forest. His mom had tried to talk to him about shifting, but as a woman, she didn’t have the same experience.
He couldn’t go to a shifters anonymous group for help with his sexual urges. Maybe he needed to start his own support group. He snorted at the idea. At the top of the landing, Tala turned to the right, and he followed.
They entered what had to be the master bedroom suite. It was painted a vibrant lavender color, and the bed had a green floral comforter with an abundance of fluffy throw pillows. White dollies rested on the two nightstands, and a vase of wildflowers called for attention. The feminine room seemed in sharp contrast to his host. She didn’t look frilly.
“This will be your quarters.” Her lips pursed, and she blinked a few times.
The idea shocked him. “What? I’m sorry, but it looks like your room.”
“Well, it has been. But it’s the nicest room in the house, and as a guest, figure you should have it to be comfortable. I’ll move my things into another one.”
He waved his hands in front of him, as if shooing away something physically bad. “No way. No can do. Give me the second best, then. My first job can be fixing it up.”
She smiled. “Well, second best would be my brother’s room, and even though he’s on a trip right now, I don’t feel comfortable moving his stuff. So third best, and we work today to make it more, um, livable?”
Her choice of words made him pause. “Deal.”

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Come and Get Your Love!!

Congratulations on your new release, Tina!!

Buy Link:


Their desire wasn’t supposed to be real…

With millions willed to her in an incentive trust, Lissa can get the dough to start her own country music label when she meets one of the no-contest clauses. Namely, reach middle age in twenty years, work in the hated family business for a decade, or marry someone not in the music biz.

Marriage it is, at least for a year to satisfy her greedy brother who wants the inheritance.

Enter Cass, a hot Texas rancher who dampens Lissa’s panties. With a pile of medical bills from his brother’s accident, Cass agrees to wed Lissa. She’s sweet to look at, surprisingly pleasant for an Atlanta debutante, and makes his jeans feel tight as hell despite their no-sex contract.

Uh-huh. The devil’s in the details. Longing gazes turn to tender intimacy and wild nights with pretend feeling all too real.

Damn shame it may be too late with her brother gunning for them both.


“Neck hurt?” he asked.
She stopped kneading her aching muscles, but couldn’t lie. “A little.”
He put down his drink without tasting it. “Lie down. I’ll massage it.” He went to the bed and pulled away the down comforter.
She regarded the white satin sheets. “Wonder where they get linens to fit that thing.”
Cass smiled. “Beats me. I’d say the bed’s more for contortionists than regular people.”
Lissa snickered, grateful they’d broken the tension. “No kidding.” She padded to the bed. “Should I lie on my belly?”
“Depends where you hurt.” He eased his hand between her hair and the robe, gently touching her neck with his fingertips. “Here?”
Her legs went watery at the gently pressure of his hand. “Uh-uh.”
Damn. Her shoulder shot up with the pain.
“On your belly,” he said.
Lissa knelt on the bed and fell forward.
“Jesus Christ,” he blurted. “Didn’t that hurt?”
“It’s worse if I bend anything.”
“Does that mean you’re going to have trouble getting back up?”
Lissa wasn’t certain how to answer that so she hedged. “Why?”
“You might have to take off your robe so I can find your neck.”
Groaning, she rolled over, undid the tie, then rolled back onto her belly. “Can you just pull it off me?”
Cass did, his touch extra gentle, his breathing barely controlled. “Ready?” he rasped.
For just about everything, even as desire and fear continued to war within her. She touched the back of her neck. “Here’s where it hurts worse.”
The mattress jiggled with Cass’ weight, but his touch was exquisitely light as he brushed her hair to the side, then kneaded her muscles.
A sigh spilled past her lips as he eased away the pain, little by little. Minutes later, Lissa was finally relaxed. She stretched her arms over her head, parted her legs widely, and moaned in pleasure.
“Better?” he murmured.
“Good.” He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms until he touched her fingers.
Without thinking, Lissa laced them through his, holding him.
Neither of them moved. Lissa was pretty damn certain they’d both stopped breathing too.
A sound of raw male need finally poured from Cass. He lowered his mouth to her neck, his breath skipping across it, his achingly soft lips pressed to her.
Her toes curled at the hot, wet sweep of his tongue on her skin. She lost what little resistance she’d had, his kiss warming her inside and out.
After easing his hands from hers, he turned Lissa over and covered her body with his, capturing her mouth, filling her with his tongue. When he slipped the strap past her shoulder and down her arm, wanting tore through Lissa, crashing in waves so fierce, she pushed her fingers through his silky hair and arched her back, giving herself to him. Her areola puckered in the room’s coolish air, the tip hardening even more at the brush of his calloused palm, his fingers squeezing her breast.
A rush of moisture dampened Lissa’s soft folds. Cass’ shaft grew harder against her, his kiss fiercer. With one hand beneath her head, he held her still so he could own her mouth. Then he lifted the edge of her gown, easing it up until he’d exposed her legs and pussy.
Lissa’s thoughts spun out of control at his hand sliding up the inside of her thigh to her delicate curls. He tugged at them playfully, then sought her damp entrance, finding her clit.
She gasped at the stunning sensations pulsing through her. Her body surrendered to pleasure even as her mind began to rebel, desire warring with fear, good sense battling with need.
Cass teased her nub, generating indescribable sensations as he deepened their kiss. With his knees, he pushed her legs wider. Her body responded wantonly, wanting more even as a wish repeated itself in her heart like a well-loved melody.
If only he loved her.
He didn’t. This was a deal born of desperate financial need for him and a soul-deep longing within her—the chance to create something beautiful in a world that had always seemed so heartless and cold.
Remembering that, Lissa pressed her hands to his chest and pulled her mouth from his. “Cass, no,” she panted.
He suckled her neck.
Breathing hard, he finally lifted his head, his gaze unfocused, thick with lust.
The same that Lissa felt but had to fight, protecting her heart. “No.”
He blinked as if coming out of a trance, then pulled his hand from between her thighs, his fingers slick with her moisture, proof of her desire. He couldn’t have looked more confused.
Lissa didn’t know what to say. Now wasn’t the time to tell him she didn’t believe in casual sex, not even with her own husband. Laughter bubbled in her throat while tears stung her eyes.
He stared. “Lissa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything. I thought…” Not finishing, he rolled off her and left the bed. He was at the wet bar, downing a shot of whiskey when she moved past.
“Whoa.” He cuffed her wrist and frowned at the pillow wedged under her arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sleeping in the tub. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she added quickly. “You thought exactly what you should have. This isn’t fair to you.”
Cass shook his head. More of his dark locks spilled loose, grazing his eyebrows, making her weak with wanting. “You’re not spending the night in the tub.”
“I have to. You won’t fit in it.”
He laughed. “You’re right, I won’t.” Sobering quickly, he took a deep breath and spoke on a sigh, “We have a year of this to face, so we sure as hell better start getting used to it tonight. We’ll both use the bed.” He grabbed the bottle of vodka and slapped it into her hand. “If I try anything in my sleep, just hit me over the head with that.”
She threw it to the side. “I’m sorry for what happened. Not because it happened but because of the circumstances surrounding it. You deserve better.”
He made a face. “And you don’t?”
“I can handle it.”
He glared. “I can’t?”
“That’s not what I meant. I—”
“It’s okay.” Breathing hard, he cradled the side of her face in his hand. “Just go to bed. I’ll be there directly.”
She glanced at the wet bar.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to get drunk.”
“I know. I was thinking about doing that myself.”
He laughed. “God, woman, you’re a handful.”
Her cheeks warmed at his teasing. She murmured, “You’re an honorable man, Cass.”
He dropped his hand. “Go to bed, please.”
Lissa didn’t move. “Which side of the mattress do you prefer?”
“The middle?”
She laughed. “I’ll take the right if that’s okay.”
“Fine. Whatever you want.”
“No, I want you to be comfortable too. If you prefer something else, let me know. Do you have a double bed on the ranch? Do you sleep in the middle of it?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his biceps bulging with that small move, the dark hair in his pit peeking out, making Lissa nuts.
She swallowed. “Come on, tell me. How do you usually sleep?”
“In the nude.”


I’m an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Kensington, Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, Booktrope, Luminosity, and indie. Yay! Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised my work, and trust me, I’m forever grateful for that. I’ve had my books reach finals in the EPIC competition, one title was named Book of the Year at a review site, and others have won awards in RWA-sponsored contests. I’m actually featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Talk about feeling like a freaking star. Before my writing career, I was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company. Outside of being an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, I’ve flown a single-engine plane (scary stuff), rewired an old house using an electricity for dummies book, and have been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally whenever I’m eating anything Mexican or Italian. Yeah, I like to eat (burp).

You can check me out here – yes, I am everywhere!  J

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Have a great weekend~
Facebook: tessie.bradford.1