Wednesday, March 26, 2014

New Release - Patty's Homecoming @WritingHonor

Purchase HERE
Patty’s Homecoming
[Montana Wranglers – Book 1]

Patricia Graymont knew Blake and Corbin all her life. They practically grew up on her daddy’s ranch after all. She had loved them for just as long. However, stubborn and unable to see what was right before her she ran off for New York City in the hopes of being able to fall out of love with the two men, too bad she fell into trouble instead.

For ten years Blake and Corbin waited for their Tishia to come home to them. Blake served time in the Military while Corbin worked the Ranch and received degrees. Both men knew that one day they would make Patricia Graymount theirs. They just didn’t realize what would bring her home.

Running home after being nearly beaten to death by a Mafia Boss’s crew because she dared to ‘turn him down’ she came back to the only place she had ever felt safe. But there they were. Like a kick in the gut it nearly killed her to see them, and know she would love them forever.

They didn’t let her dangle for long though. Blake and Corbin both ensured she knew that they were there for her and would always be there for her. They both began to show her the life that they could all have, together.

Just as their love began to really take hold, trouble struck like lightening and had Blake and Corbin running to find her before she was stolen from them forever.

Happily ever after, that’s what the trio wanted and needed… a Happily Ever After for them, and a continuation of their families happiness into the next generations. If they can just get there in time.


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STORY EXCERPT


Prologue


Buried amongst the rolling hills and valleys of Montana lies the small town of Mission. Settled south of Great Falls, just north of the Lewis & Clark National Forest, this town of 800 plus souls live life off the land and a small, but profitable tourist trade.
Thirty miles due west is the Graymont ranch. Where, as his ancestors before him, Daniel Graymont carries on the tradition of nearly one hundred and sixty years and raises cattle and thoroughbred horses. The life isn’t for everyone, hot summers of hard work and frigid winters that rival even Siberia take their toll. Only the most hardy of souls dared to settle and remain in the rugged terrain. But, like his ancestors, Daniel is determined to uphold tradition.

* * * * *

May 12, 2013


The sound of a door slamming was closely followed by loud curses of a creative, if inaccurate, nature. Lifting his head up from the books he’d been semi-diligently going over Daniel peeked out the window. What he saw was one of his hands, half dressed, arguing with Constantine, his housekeeper.
Rolling his chair closer to the window he cracked it open. He didn’t need to, the whole house had air conditioning. Nope, he was being a nosy old man and cracked it to eavesdrop. Not that he was old. He was only sixty and still going strong. He’d had a great life, an even better to his beloved wife Charlotte, God rest her soul. She’d given him thirty-five years of marriage, love and the best sex of his life. She’d also given him every single one of his grey hairs, two sons and a daughter.
Connor worked the farm and, one day, would take over for him. Brendan was a lawyer in Great falls and handled all the legal matters for the farm, not that there were a lot, but it was a business. And his baby, Patricia, was in New York working for a interior designer and, one day God willing, would go out on her own. In the meantime she was living life, enjoying her career and called him every weekend to chat a mile a minute. Just like her mama used to do whenever she was excited, or pissed off. Chuckling he shook his head, that girl could talk the ear off of anyone and try the patience of even the Pope himself.
“I’ve told you a dozen times Constantine and, I’m sorry I have to apparently declare it to the whole damned world, but I’m not interested.” Blake, the half dressed hand said in a loud tone. Daniel’s attention was dragged back to the goings on outside the window.
“That’s not what Trevor said,” the woman shrieked. “Do you think I would be there if you hadn’t apparently been pining for me?”
“Pining!” Daniel winced. He hadn’t known that Blake’s voice could go that high, or that loud. “Woman, I have never nor will I ever pine for a woman. Especially you Constantine Delgado. You are a busybody and way too much maintenance. And if I ever, ever catch you trying to jump me while I’m in my rack sleeping again I will personally kick your ass out of Montana one step at a time.”
The woman shrieked at the top of her lungs, pure frustration there Daniel thought. His next thought was he would be needing a new housekeeper. And he was spot on with that assessment, especially given her next words. “Don’t fucking bother you degenerate! I quit!” she screamed. With that volume Daniel was pretty sure all of Montana knew she’d just quit.
“Good!” Blake sneered right back at her. “I pity the next fool that dares to take you on. I only pray that he’s got a wife that puts you in your fucking place.”
Another shriek and Constantine was storming towards the house. Eyes going wide Daniel shut the window and rolled his chair back into place just in time for the front door to smack the siding. Wincing he turned his attention to the books as she went to her room. More banging, door slamming and a lot of swearing.
One of the problems with having a single woman on the farm, the men tended to forget about her sex when they were working and let loose with some creative language. Not that he normally minded. The only time he enforced it with the hands was when Patricia came home to visit. Course, most of the lads thought of her as a baby sister, so that helped keep the cursing to a minimum. Not that he was fool enough to believe his baby girl couldn’t out swear them all, she could. He was just in denial and would remain so until the day he left his farm and went to meet up with his Charlotte in the hereafter.
His head came up as he realized that silence reigned in the house all of a sudden. Oops, thought it too soon. A door slammed and angry steps stomped towards his office. Pasting on a bland expression he looked up. “Constantine, uh, are you going somewhere?” he asked. Okay, an Academy Award was not in his future but she was too pissed off to notice.
“I’m sorry mister Graymont, I can’t work here any longer. I quit,” she said, slamming her suitcase to the floor.
“I’m sorry to hear that Constantine. May I ask why?” He tipped his head and hoped he looked confused and slightly curious.
“It’s got nothing to do with you sir. It’s,” she waved a hand viciously if vaguely about. “It’s them! Those no good, vile, men!” she hissed.
Fighting a chuckle he nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sad to see you go Constantine. But you have to do whatever is right for you dear.” He grabbed his checkbook and wrote her out a check for her last pay plus a little extra. Passing it to her he sighed, “If you need references you have them call me. You did great work while you were here and I’m going to make sure they know that.”
She folded the check, stuffed it into her purse and hefted her suitcase. “Thank you mister Graymont. I am sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”
“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll make do,” he waved her off. “Drive safe now and if you need anything, let me know.”
A stiff nod was his only answer as she spun away. The door slammed behind her and he turned to watch her march to her car. The finger she threw towards the bunkhouse was telling, immature, but very telling. So was the spinning tires and gravel kicked up behind her as she tore up the drive towards the main road.
“Wow, that girl is mad,” he muttered reaching for the phone. Hitting a number on speed dial he grinned when his buddy at the Mission Post picked up. “Morty, how’s it going? Good, good. Nah, usual shit and lots of it given what I’ve got out in the north forty. Listen, I need you to run my ad for a housekeeper. Yup, she thought she’d get into one of the lads pants and he told her otherwise. I know, damn women are just too pushy. A little subtlety goes a hell of a lot further. Yup, sounds good. I’ll drop the check off tomorrow when I’m in getting supplies. What? Yeah,” he chuckled. “We can grab a beer. Let’s say around four if that works for you. Sounds good, see you then Mort.”

Chapter One


“God damn woman,” he muttered. Grabbing up his saddle and other tack, he headed for the stall where his horse was. Easing open the door he moved in slowly. “Morning Rusty,” he said to the large stallion.
The big head swung around and he got a nicker of hello. Smiling for the first time that morning he set everything aside. Moving to his head Blake scratch under the big reds chin. “Did you have a good night fella?” He got bumped in the chest, the horse was looking for his morning apple.
“Yeah, I got it here. So, did you hear that ruckus with Constantine? Woman is crazy,” he said holding out the apple in his palm. “She actually tried to crawl into my bed, naked no less. I have never once given her any hint that I wanted her in that way. Hell, I was only cordial to her because she could poison us at any time.”
Rusty crunched his apple and bobbed his head. Sometimes he thought the big guy actually understood him. Sighing he moved away and grabbed the blanket. Smoothing it over the big bay’s back he hefted the saddle. “But Trevor is in for it, fucker apparently told her I was pining away for her or some such shit.”
His horse shook his head, Blake took it to be in disbelief. “My thoughts exactly. That prick has been a thorn in my side since he got here.” Tightening the strap Blake flipped down the stirrup and sighed. Grabbing the halter he moved around the front and looked into the big brown eyes. Leaning his head to the horses he let out a breath. “Women are fucking confusing buddy. You have it easy. You see a lady horse you either get to mount her or you get a hoof to the head. Simple in comparison to the crap we mere mortals have to put up with.”
No answer from the horse. Figured. When he needed one he got nothing. “Thanks anyway buddy. At least you listen to me without a running commentary. Do you know how rare that is? Well, if you don’t, it’s very rare. You’re a good friend,” he patted Rusty’s neck. “Open up bud, let’s get this on you and go for a ride.”
Leading Rusty out of the stable ten minutes later he adjusted his hat and swung up into the saddle. Glancing around he let out a breath and turned Rusty’s head towards the trail. “Come on boy, let’s get a move on. We have a lot of fencing to check today.” And the day after and the day after that. Which is why he had food, water, his pack, extra clothing and food for Rusty in his saddlebags. He was going to be out for a time.
The plan was to meet up with Corbin, who had was out there already with a herd of cattle. He’d restock his friend, they’d check the fences and then head back in, four days down the line, to the main farm. They then had three days off before they’d have to be back to work.


* * * * *


Stretching slowly he scratched at his chest and yawned. Rolling his head around his shoulders he groaned. Four days with the herd that did nothing but eat, moo and poop was damned boring. And he was out there on his own. Normally he didn’t mind, but he didn’t even have Duke, the farms mascot dog, out there to talk to. Nope, he had cows who stood chewing their cud while he tried to chat them up.
Thank God Blake was coming out and they were doing fence sweeps. Blake didn’t talk much, but at least he listened. And actual human company for a few days would be a relief. Any human company would have been a relief right then. Blake’s was just a bonus.
Glancing up he shaded his dark green eyes from the morning light. Dust coming in, small plume, single rider. Blake, right on schedule. Moving then he gathered up his items, stashing them back into the saddle bags. Moving to his horse he started to get her ready, saddling her as he talked to her quietly. Not that Petunia cared, she was one of the more easy going horses around. Worked well with the cattle and didn’t spook easily, a huge plus when she was his only mode of transportation.
He was in the saddle, hat covering his dark red hair when Blake came up the last hill. Tipping his head Corbin moved up to join his friend and fellow cow hand. “Mornin’,” he greeted him.
Blake gave a grunt in reply and handed over a flask. Opening it Corbin nearly fell off his horse at the delightful scent. “Oh thank you God, real coffee.” Pouring a cup while on horseback took talent. One that he, thankfully, had. Sipping the strong brew he could have wept, it was that good.
Constantine quit,” Blake said into the silence, twenty minutes into their ride.
Looking over in surprise Corbin blinked. “What? When? Why?”
He got an irritated look for the rapid fire questions. “She quit, this morning, because I wouldn’t fuck her.”
Corbin nearly fell off his horse at that. “What?” he squawked. “What the hell bro? What are you talking about?”
“I was asleep, in my bunk, when she decided to molest me. Apparently on the advice of Trevor who told her I was pining for her. I didn’t get much more out of her before I lost my cool and basically unloaded on her.”
Whistling through his teeth he shot Blake a look. “Damn. What in the world did you ever do to that boy?”
“Nothing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. The little shit’s been a burr up my ass since he got here. But this, God Corbin,” he could hear Blake grinding his teeth. “If he’d been there I’d have whooped his ass and then done it all over again for that unwelcome wake up call. I can’t believe the gall of him.”
“Well, there has to be a story there. When we get back, we’ll just have to ask him.” Corbin shrugged at his friends look. “Real nice like of course,” he grinned. Yeah, they’d ask. Real nice like. With a right hook or a uppercut or two. One way or another they’d find out why Trevor was out to undermine Blake.
“Glad to hear you’re on the same page.”
“Always,” he nodded. “Course, God only knows what we’re going to end up with now for a housekeeper.”
“May she be older than Daniel and covered in warts. And we’ll sic her on the little shit in payback,” Blake growled.
Laughing at that Corbin shook his head. “Damn, that’s just mean. As long as she can cook and hold her own around the ranch, I don’t give two shits what she looks like. But pretty would be good.”
“You are a dog.”
“Yup,” he nodded happily. “I am at that,” he let out a howl that had even his sour faced friend laughing. It was quiet and subdued, but it was a laugh. His work was done, for the moment anyway.


YouTube Video can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhS6eNe5S1k

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Friday, March 7, 2014

Sensuous Promo’s Give Me Shelter Book Tour w/ @DispatchVampire


Welcome to Sensuous Promo’s Give Me Shelter Book Tour.

 * WATCH FOR CONTEST BELOW *

Give Me Shelter by Alexis D. Craig 

Inspector Eli Miller's unspoken feelings for his partner, Bex, color his whole life. When his past comes calling, will it be the push he needs to seek a future with her?

Inspector Rebecca 'Bex' Mulcahy has lived long enough to know that love is a street con at best, and a dangerous distraction at worst. Any feelings she has for her partner Eli definitely fall into the latter category. Will her dedication to her job keep her from finding a possible future with Eli?Their latest case is protecting Violet Burrell, a young woman with scars on her soul stretching back to birth, who inadvertently witnesses a shockingly brutal murder at the hands of a sadist. Violet is determined to testify in court. Her strength and courage impress Eli and Bex, who will protect her at all costs.

But it is Violet’s beauty and spirit that entrances Junior Inspector Atticus Randall. Atticus is also assigned to protect Violet, and while he knows he should ignore his growing feelings for her, he just can’t stop himself from falling for the brave beauty.

Life in the Las Vegas branch of Witness Protection has never been more tangled. When the emotional landmines start a chain reaction, everyone in the blast radius is going to need a little shelter.

Excerpt
The door to the conference room closing may as well have been the prison door on a twenty year stretch. Bex’s witness, one Violet Burrell (née Bukowski), sat across the table from them, seeming surprisingly untroubled by her current circumstances. Reading a book, listening to her MP3  player, she appeared like any other teenager. He set the file on the table and held the chair for Bex, and then Violet looked up and the floor dipped beneath his feet.
Her kohl-rimmed eyes were blue, a strange, deep blue that was almost amethyst, offsetting her pale skin and full, purple-stained lips. Her jet black hair was slicked back into a severe bun at the base of her skull, matching the jet black dress that caused AR, their 25-year-old junior inspector and de facto office assistant, to catch a case of the vapors when she’d walked into the office, clinging in places he didn’t even know he should be dreaming about. It was funny to watch, for about a minute, before his mind betrayed him with a recollection that was almost old enough to drink.
“Marshals.” Her smile was faint, polite, and distant.
“Vi, this is Marshal Miller. He’ll be assisting with your transition.”
“Nice to meet you.” She didn’t offer her hand, which was just as well. Caressing him with her hypnotic eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin that bordered on indecent and Eli felt the walls in the room start to inch just a bit closer. It was then he noticed the book she’d been reading, bright green, unmarked cover closed around a bookmark of a skull with a pink bow, the spine betraying the title: Lady Chatterley’s Lover . The lump in his throat ballooned to cantaloupe-sized proportions.
Eli nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The look Bex gave him was probably going to leave scars, but he shook his head slightly as he opened the file again and studied it diligently. Everything but the picture, the picture was a lot more than he could deal with at the moment, especially once confronted with the reality.
“He means to say ‘nice to meet you, too’, but his manners are still out at the dry cleaners.” He felt the moment her green eyes turned from him to her witness, and he relaxed ever so slightly.
“They do get filthy sometimes, or so I’m told.” And she had jokes, dark humor with a dash of double entendre, in her soft voice, the color of a New England autumn. The Fates should probably just kill him now to save on the paperwork.
Buy Links
·         Lachesis Publishing: http://lachesispublishing.com/?product=give-me-shelter
·         Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/give-me-shelter
·         Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/405307

Connect with Alexis D. Craig online:

* CONTEST *

Leave a comment below (with email address) and your name will be thrown into the hat to win:
1st Prize - $15 gift card to Bookstrand (where you can buy Alexis' book!)
2nd Prize - eBook copy of Give Me Shelter

Every stop on this tour is eligible for the same contest.
You may enter by leaving a comment and email address on every stop.
That's up to 12 entries!!!

Winner to be drawn on April 2nd