Blaze – Missoula Smokejumpers Book Five

Happy Valentine’s Day. I thought as a little treat I’d give you a taste of Blaze – the fifth book in the Missoula Smokejumper’s Series. Boone is my cowboy, having spent years on the rodeo circuit. Now, what’s better on the day of love than a sexy, strong, muscular and dominating cowboy? Delicious… I hope you enjoying. Releasing in early March. Don’t forget, all the books are exclusive on Amazon so you can read on KU for FREE AND, the first book in the series, Ignite, is only $.99.


BLAZE – (unedited)

“Damn good idea you had, my friend.”

Boone Martin glanced over at his buddy and fellow smokejumper and grinned. “Every once in a while, I have them.” Sawyer Lincoln professed to be a true cowboy but hadn’t been out riding with him since Boone had moved to Missoula. “I thought I’d never get you on a horse.”

Sawyer stretched out on the blanket and closed his eyes, but not before shooting his friend the finger. “Shut your ass up and relax. It’s our day off, remember? I’m Blazeexhausted.”

“That means you’re very old.” He couldn’t help but tease. The entire team of smokejumpers had been training almost every day in preparation of what experts called a dangerous upcoming season.

As if these so-called experts had any idea how to predict the weather patterns. Hell, the winter season had been ferocious with several out of control forest fires, including one in West Virginia. The entire team had been flown out in order to provide assistance. They were lucky to be alive.

“This old man is gonna kick your ass if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Sawyer growled.

“Bring it!” Laughing, Boone settled just a few feet away, cradling his knees and studying the water. The river was rough, much more so given the recent early summer storms. Still, the grassy knoll was tranquil, allowing him to process the upcoming event in the morning. What had he gotten himself into? He’d been away from Texas as well as training for years.

“You’re really going through with it?” Sawyer asked, as if reading his mind.

“Hell, yeah. I can’t back out now. Besides, I’m really looking forward to getting in there. Blaze will have a good time.”

“Should be interesting,” Sawyer teased. “A smokejumper snagging a cow.”

Boone laughed. “Roping steer my friend and there’s a lot of money to be made on the rodeo circuit.” The glory days had been the best of his life.

“Whatever you say.”

“Since you’re such a cowboy, we might be able to get you into that ring. Course your ass will be tossed, kicked, trampled and we’ll have to call the paramedics.”

Sawyer lifted his head, giving him the evil eye. “You’re buckin’ to get your ass beat today.”

“Callin’ it as I see-“


“What the hell?” The cry was faint, the wind carrying the strangled voice away almost immediately. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Boone craned his neck and searched the water as well as the shoreline, listening for any additional sounds. “I could have sworn I heard a cry for help.”

“You’re dreaming, dude. Why don’t you grab a beer? Get me one too.”

Boone knew what he’d heard. A single shiver slithered down his spine. Jerking to his feet, he walked closer to the water, shading his eyes from the sun. He could see a few people on the other side of the river, but he doubted no one close enough to hear the distinct word. “I swear I-“


The cry came again, the sound closer.

“Okay, I know I heard that,” Boone walked closer, stepping over rocks.

“Yeah, I did too.” Scrambling to his feet, Sawyer followed him to the edge of the water, scanning the horizon. “Sounded like a girl.”

“No doubt.” His entire body tense, he walked to the right several feet, steadying himself on the few flat rocks. The water was spitting over the jagged edges, lapping against the shoreline. From this vantage point, he could hear the pounding of the waves as they cowboy with lassocrashed down from the waterfall. This wasn’t a designated swimming area during any time of the year. Squinting, he could swear he noticed a blip of red, but the powerful stream was rolling so fast. “Come on. Come on. Where are you?”


“Shit. What the fuck?” Sawyer walked into the water, almost slipping. “Damn it. Who would be foolish enough to get in the river here?”

“Could be a kayaker or canoer caught in the rapids.”

“Then they don’t have a freakin’ chance,” Sawyer stated, his voice shaking.

They both remained quiet, searching.

After a few seconds, Boone could see the same hint of color, a garish and very bright red. The blob in the water was bobbing up and down, going completely under the raging swirl. Hair. He could just make out blonde hair. “Shit. There’s someone in the water. I can see her and she’s headed straight for the falls.”

“What?” Sawyer raced to his side, turning his head from left to right. “Oh, Jesus. You’re right. There’s no way we can swim out there. None. The fire department can’t get here in time.”

“No, they can’t. Grab my rope off of Blaze.” Boone directed.

“Your rope?”

“Just fuckin’ do it!” There was little time given how fast the stream was moving. If the girl reached the falls, pitched down over one hundred feet would certainly kill her. “Do it!”

“Okay! Okay.”

He heard Sawyer racing away and tried to keep his eyes on the girl. The rapids were drawing her closer to this side. She was maybe two hundred yards out. Still too far. He took several long strides into the river, trying to get a better look. The force of the water pummeled him and he slipped, falling into the frigid water. “Shit.” Jerking up, he wiped water out of his eyes as he steadied his feet.

“Here. What in the hell do you think you’re going to do with this?” Sawyer tossed him the rope.

“Try and save her. Call 9-1-1.” He held the rope in his hand and refused to allow fear to enter his system. He could do this. The girl was closer, flailing as she screamed for help. His fingers wrapped around the rope, pulling the thick strand into position. He’d have one shot at this. One. After that, there was nothing else he could do. As he waited he counted, studying the rapids and the distance her body was carried. This wasn’t like wrestling a steer to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer called from behind. “You don’t actually think you can grab her with the rope?”

“Call them.” Boone gulped as he fingered the twisted strands. This was a new rope, barely broken in and damn, it had better be strong. You can do this. He was no longer certain of his skills, but at this point, there was no self-doubt allowed. None. Concentrate. Concentrate.

“Grabbing my phone.”

“Hey. Look over here!” Boone’s voice boomed over the rustling water and he held his breath as the girl jerked her head in his direction. She began to paddle, as if that would make any difference. “Catch this when I throw it to you.” Whether or not she heard, he couldn’t be certain but he had to try. If he managed to snag her, he’d have only a few seconds to reel her in or the rapids could take both of them. Today was not a good day to die.

Swinging the rope over his head, he thought of nothing but all the weeks of practice, the years of training. He could do this. No, he would do this.

“Goddamn you are. You’re never going to be able to do this,” Sawyer moaned.

I hope you enjoyed!

Kisses and licks on this special day…



Sexee Reads Valentine’s Day Giveaway

Happy Sunday. Who doesn’t like free books? About about a few dozen? Sexee Reads has a fabulous giveaway through February 17th with dozens of your favorite authors involved. Including MUAH. What do you have to do? Well, you might have to sign up for an author’s newsletter but in my case – NOTHING. Download a free copy. Now, what’s simpler than that?


Valentines GIveaway 1

Writing is such a joy and I’m thrilled to be able to do this everyday. When I started the Missoula Smokejumpers series, which had been on my mind for years, I wanted to bring readers the truth and reality behind what they do. They work in dangerous situations, fighting fires with their training and brawn – but no water. They often burn trees and underbrush to eradicate fuel for an ongoing fire. They use axes and chainsaws, dig trenches and do everything to change the direction of a fire. Sadly, think about the horrific fires in California recently. You can bet there were several teams on hand, along with hundreds of firefighters.

Burn is the second book in the series. While all four books, the two prequels and the Christmas story (three more planned in the series) can be read as a stand alone, as readers/reviewers have pointed out, you’re missing so much if you don’t read them all. burn_sj2_cover_bigWhy? Because it entails the lives of seven smokejumpers and the women they love – as well as discipline. They live to the extreme as true alpha men, but have hearts of gold and would die for their team, their friends and family and even the amazing town of Missoula.

If you enjoy Burn, then pick up a copy of Ignite, the first in the series and at only $.99, I think you’ll enjoy the long book setting the tone. Blaze is due out in early March with the last two following closely thereafter. You’re going to get the real deal – fire, danger, mystery, suspense, arson, love, spankings, domination, joy and heartache.

BURN – Landen’s Story

9/11. Too many memories. A burning pain.

Scarred body and soul. Damaged beyond comprehension.

Fighting fires to save lives, unable to combat the devil inside, but I need more. More…

I need her. She’s my salvation and I will have her. No compromises.

Danger. Domination. Destruction.

The Jackals

An elite core of smokejumpers nestled in the heard of Missoula, Montana.

By day they indulge in their penchant for danger.

By night they exude passion.

Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto.

IGNITE – Stoker’s Story

Danger. It’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted.

Fighting fires soothes the raging beast that war created.

Allowing me to live

The rest? Maybe she can understand my hunger. For her. Dominating her. Owning her.


I hope you enjoy all the free books – happy reading. The Missoula Smokejumpers Series is exclusive to Amazon, which means you can read on KU for FREE!


Men of Danger

Happy New Year to everyone. I hope you had a wonderful holiday season. I’ve been busy this last month, working on several new books and stories. No rest for the…  Well, I do enjoy writing. Time to get back to business. Missoula Smokejumpers is my baby. I think anyone who’s read a single book in the series knows this. I love the characters, the town and the danger. I also love the danger the smokejumpers are involved in as well as their dominating passion. There’s something about men who walk headlong into a dangerous situation that truly fuels our fantasies.

The 4th book in the series is coming out on January 26th and this is Riker’s story. My biker, my muscular and very brooding man. He has his reasons for being standoffish, even curt. You know he does and I hope his story allows you to see inside the man. Would you like a preliminary taste? Totally unedited, so keep that in mind. I hope you enjoy.


Riker Sheffield rounded the corner, pushing the Harley to its limits. He loved the crisp spring air, the way the wind whipped around his body as he accelerated. Leaning into Firestorm 500x755another curve, he could see a line of cars ahead, moving at a snail’s pace. When he was in a straight section, he jutted out and bolted ahead, passing all four vehicles. He had a couple days off and the free time would allow him to play.

The end of the bitter cold winter meant a new fire season. As if the season had allowed the smokejumping team any concept of rest. Too many dangerous fires had destroyed thousands of acres of land in three states. He was exhausted and antsy, longing to spend a few weeks by himself. He hissed as he rolled into town, shooting by Ziggy’s. While he’d developed real friendships with the Jackals, the majority of the smokejumping team would never understand the man inside.

Neither did he any longer.

He remained bitter, full of anger to the point he’d succumbed to drinking alone, something he swore he’d never do. At least the pain was dulled enough he could sleep, freefalling into a drunken state and away from the constant nightmares. He wanted to say enough was enough, but there was nothing that could drag him away from the anguish. Nothing.

After stopping at a red light, he contemplated where he was going to land for the night. A single thought came to his mind. The biker bar was on the other side of town and far removed from a location his buddies would consider, perhaps with the exception of Landen. However, his best friend and a man after his own heart had a woman. A damn woman. Yeah, he couldn’t help but smile. Someone deserved a level of happiness.

He took off, roaring past the sightseers and tourists, heading in the direction of the dilapidated bar. He’d been to the place a few times, his presence never questioned. Tonight, he needed some kind of relief or he was going to crawl out of his skin.

Rolling into the parking lot, he darted a glance at the other vehicles. Mostly bikes of various sizes and types, he knew he’d feel comfortable, even fitting right in. He parked in the back and climbed off, securing his helmet. He could hear the sound of loud music pumping through the thin walls. The time wasn’t event nine-thirty and already things were getting wild.

Exactly what he needed. A damn good time.

Riker headed inside, taking only a moment before walking straight for the bar. There were no odd looks, other than perhaps given his massive size. Yeah, he towered over almost every man but his look was basically the same. Jeans, shit kicker boots, a tee shirt and jacket, only his being leather. The place was crowded, wall to wall with mostly men. He could see more than one game of pool, a few throwing darts and all were drinking.

Easing onto a bar stool, he tapped his fingers on top of the bar. Almost instantly the bartender acknowledged, giving him a respectful nod. Not a single one knew of his status, a supposed hero to so many in town, nor would they give a shit. This was just the way he liked it. He was nothing to no one which meant there wasn’t a thing expected out of him.

“What’ll ya have?”

“Budweiser. Bourbon chaser.” Riker thought of Stoker, the man’s usual drink and snickered. Wouldn’t the jumper be proud?

The place was hot. Too many bodies in one damn place. After removing his jacket, he settled into the worn wooden stool and gave a quick glance at the ancient television, the grainy picture highlighting some game that he sure as shit didn’t care about. The thought made him sigh. He’d been forced to face some ugly truths as of late. He didn’t give a shit about anything but his job. Not a single blessed thing.

“Here ya go. You got a credit card?” The bartender asked as he slid the drinks across the bar.

Riker grabbed a twenty, tossing it past the drinks. “Cash still good?”

“Works for me. Let me know when you need another one.”

He raised the bottle, taking a swig. At least the beer was ice cold. Polishing off half the liquid, he noticed a group of females sitting together at a table in the back. An unusual site in a place like this. Biker women were well attached and not a single man would let them come out in a pack. He snickered and shook his head. Listen to his barbarian thoughts. Things had certainly changed in a few years.

The bourbon was just smooth enough, settling his aching head and he could feel a portion of the tension easing away. Even the headaches had occurred more often, keeping him grumpy, or so he’d been told more than once. This would be a good respite, albeit brief, to find his soul. This time, he resisted laughing. His soul had been ripped away one fateful night.

When one of the girls eased out of her chair, he couldn’t help but notice. She was striking. Long reddish blond hair and a killer body. As she walked through the crowd, swishing her hips in a way every red blooded male would notice, he watched. He didn’t mind enjoying the view.

“Hey ya, hot mama. Wanna play?”

She stopped, gave the man a hard look and pointed her finger. “Sorry, dude. You don’t have what it takes.”

“Ooohh!” Several men yelled then whistled their approval.

The damn bars were all the same. At least this one had some entertainment value. He fingered the glass before polishing off the bourbon, lifting the finished product so the bartender could see.

“Gotcha,” the man said, immediately grabbing a glass.

The girl slid her hand against almost every shoulder as she passed, her walk becoming more exaggerated. And she was headed right for him.

Riker looked away, concentrating on the second drink as it appeared, the man behind the bar no longer asking for an instant payment. He swirled the drink, listening to the various conversations, none of which were interesting in any manner.

Mmm… What do you think?

Don’t forget that the second prequel – Standing at the River’s Edge is out. Now, this is a prequel, four short stories about Riker, Boone, Sawyer and Antonio and the reasons they became smokejumpers. A taste. That’s all. But… important information.

Have a great day!




Three Rivers Run Deep – A Tasty Treat

I am crazy about firefighters, smokejumpers and all men of action and danger. I think we all appreciate a powerful man. Don’t we? Three Rivers Run Deep – Fire Devil Book One is an action packed drama full of suspense and passion. The elite group of men fireman under waterbelong to a very special club – Burnout – where they believe in old fashioned relationships. Romance with a kick – domestic discipline. I’m going to give you a few pictures of some of my favorites.

Let’s take a look at the synopsis.


Danger. It’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted.

Fighting fires soothes the raging beast that war created.

Allowing me to live

The rest? Maybe she can understand my hunger. For her. Dominating her. Owning her.


Danger. Domination. Destruction.

The Jackals

An elite team of smokejumpers nestled in the heart of Missoula, Montana.

fireman with tatsBy day they indulge in their penchant for danger.

By night they exude passion.

Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto.

Danger is what they love. Can you imagine fighting fires in the tough mountain terrain? They also thrive on their past experiences, living life to its fullest. They are men of action, preferring every aspect of their every day to be laced with something sinful. I have to ask, what kind of vehicle do you think they would drive? Hmmm… Decisions.

COMING ON DECEMBER 1st – the saga continues


9/11. Too many memories. A burning pain. Scarred body and soul. Damaged beyond comprehension.

Fighting fires to save lives, unable to combat the devil inside, but I need more.

More… I need her. She’s my salvation and I will have her. No compromises.MountainsWeep_500x755

Danger. Domination. Destruction.

I’ll have some exciting excerpts coming in the next few days…





Fire Devil – Three Rivers Run Deep

SQUEE! The pre-order for the very first book comes out later today (or tomorrow depending on Amazon) and I’m so excited! This is the first in 7 books with 2 free prequels regarding an amazing group of smokejumpers. They delve into danger in order to save lives, fighting the worst fires imaginable. Sadly, think of California and the devastating fires. Several groups of smokejumpers from several states are there, working long and exhausting hours, days, weeks in order to put out the horrific flames. They are our true heroes. 

There are also other unsung heroes – the women they love, the families and friends THree Rivers 500x755who rally around them every day. I’m proud to bring you a group of stories based in Missoula, Montana. Here is a taste of our first heroine. I hope you’ll consider pre-ordering at a very special price of $2.99 for the pre-order sale only. Thank you readers for loving my saga.


Fire Devil: Windfall of fire

Zulies: Missoula smokejumpers

Blowup: Catastrophic fire behavior, rapid spread, mass ignition of large areas 

I remember when I was a little girl. I believed in fantasies. Handsome knights on large steeds, protecting everyone around them. I used to believe in heroes. I no longer do.

You’re nothing and deserve to die alone…

“Everyone. Welcome to the stage, Jessica Dunn and Fringe!”

Jessica Dunn exhaled and clenched the neck of her guitar. Words. They were just ugly words. The vibrant lights from the stage ceiling danced across the band’s instruments, swirling in a random yet controlled fashion, neon flashes creating sensual images. She’d been through this before, now thousands of times. Once excited at the prospect of facing an audience, she was exhausted and no longer able to convey her once vivacious personality.

“Go on. You act like you’re heading for your funeral, girl.”

She gave the drummer, and the man she spent most of her time with, the finger. Cody Falcon grinned. Damn, if she didn’t shiver. His dimples and shaggy raven hair always made her swoon. “Do you see anyone that gives a shit out there?”

“What are you talking about?” Cody leaned down, licking her earlobe. “The crowd loves ya.”

“Right. You mean all two dozen or so scattered in the theatre?” She darted a glance out into the audience, shading her eyes from the intense lighting. She and the band once filled massive stadiums. Now they were lucky to get five or six hundred people to attend their performances. They were once considered ‘the’ up and coming rock band, their first single going platinum. The second was heralded as the album of the decade. Now? They were left to play gigs at fairs and two-bit concert halls.

“Stop bellowing like a damn kitten. Get to work.”

After debating her ability to run far away, she adjusted the strap holding the guitar in place and took a step toward the slender opening of the curtain. This wasn’t what she’d hungered for fifteen years before. Act like a professional. Entertain. She brushed her hand through her long red hair and tossed her head back. “You mean tigress don’t you, big boy?”

“That’s my sexy gal.”

Taking long strides, she walked out on stage, waving to the crowd. Temporarily blinded, she whistled and laughed as she found her way toward the microphone. The band members were settling in behind her, taking their usual place, something they’d done countless times during their tenure together. “Anybody ready to rock the house?”

Those attending clapped, their whistles giving her a boost.

“Come on. Let’s get this party rollin’!” Her sultry voice reverberated across the shadows.

She shot Wally, the base player a look, winking and giving a short bow. They were a frisky group and their audiences loved their style. ‘Loved’ as in past tense. Times were different. “We are so ready to have a good time tonight. Are y’all ready?” A sickening feeling remained in her gut. She’d fought her nerves for a solid year. Tonight, she was ready to pass out from terror. Hands on the guitar. Start strumming. Everything will be okay. She forced back a single tear as the music began to play in the background. She knew the words by heart. She’d written every damn song after all. But that was a long time ago.

Jessica blinked several times as she shifted from foot to foot. “We are…” The words were lost. She gulped for air and fingered the strings, playing a chord that made no sense.

The crowd cheered, clapping as several people moved toward the edge of the stage.

She froze, unable to take a step or remember the words. Her heart raced as she attempted to focus on anything in front of her. “We are the ones who will…” Goddamn it! Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Wally walking toward her, his smile plastic. He didn’t give a shit about the band or anything to do with their recording career. He wanted money and fame, something they’d tried so hard to achieve. She resisted lashing out, scratching his face.

“We are the ones who will rock you, rock you,” Wally sang as he pumped the bass and strutted closer. He gave her an encouraging nod, mouthing ‘you can do it’.

Shimmers of light pulsated around her, mixing with echoes of the music. This was their signature song, the one that rocked the house. She swayed back and forth as she tried to grasp onto what she was supposed to do. A thumping boom of the drums behind her jolted her back to reality. She stamped her foot and gave Wally a hateful look. He wasn’t supposed to be singing. Anger shoved her past an unseen threshold. “We are the ones who will rock you, rock you. We are the ones who fight.”

Wally nodded and grinned, singing alongside her.

All she could think about for the next three songs was kicking his motherfucking ass.


Danger. It’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted.

Fighting fires soothes the raging beast that war created.

Allowing me to live

The rest? Maybe she can understand my hunger. For her. Dominating her. Owning her.


Danger. Domination. Destruction.

The Jackals

An elite team of smokejumpers nestled in the heart of Missoula, Montana.

By day they indulge in their penchant for danger.

By night they exude passion.

Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto.

I hope you’ve enjoyed!



Fire Devil Series Banner


The Saga is Set to Begin – Fire Devil

As I’m sitting here this morning watching the horrific fires occurring in California, I can’t believe what I have to write later today is about a terrible fire. The men and women firefighters, smokejumpers and First Responders are true heroes in my book. The danger they place themselves in every day in order to save lives as well as property is amazing. Smokejumpers are an elite group of firefighters specifically trained to provide from the air assault on fires. They often parachute into a fire zone, providing various kinds of support as they fight the raging flames.

Fire Devil is a seven book saga revolving around the lives of seven smokejumpers and the entire team in Missoula Montana. I fell in love with Missoula many years ago after my husband renovated a Best Products store in the gorgeous city. He brought back pictures and unforgettable stories and Fire Devil was born in my mind. The stories are action adventure, danger and intrigue, but they are also love stories, romance built on relearning to trust in order to love. Every man has a story. Every THree Rivers 500x755woman fights for their love. And every character should break your heart.

On October 24th, a free prequel – book one of two installments – will be made available and free. Standing at the River’s Edge. The stories pick a moment in time for each smokejumper. The stories are suspenseful, sad, happy, dangerous and full of – you got it – love. Three Rivers Run Deep – Book One of Fire Devil – will be available on November 4th. I hope you join in sharing with me a first excerpt of what I hope will be a timeless story.


Wha. Wha. Wha!

“We’re at the jump site,” Cooper screeched over the increasing noise.

“You’re not going yet. We have to wait for our orders,” Stoker insisted as he fumbled with his gear. Wind whipped through the open bay of the plane, creating a howling boom. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as well as something else. Fear.

“Take a look at that shit down there,” Cooper huffed and shuffled toward the edge. “We can’t wait.”

Stoker reached out. “No. We follow orders. Remember?”

“Fuck orders. They’re people down there needing our help.” Cooper gave him a haunted look then donned his helmet.

As Stoker trudged, determined to stop his friend from jumping, he heard Cooper’s last words just as he reached out, grabbing Cooper. ‘See you in paradise.’

“What the fuck?” Stoker Hansen jerked awake, swimming up from the horrific dream. Swirling visions clouded his foggy mind, ugly reminders of a mission of healing turned into carnage. Rubbing his eyes, he twisted his head back and forth as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The sound of the alarm continued, blaring into the close-knit quarters. He sucked in his breath and held his hands over his ears. You’re okay. This isn’t war. You’re home and safe. As his breathing slowed, he shivered. Yeah, at least he was safe.

“Get the hell up, dude. We have a hot one.”

“What? Cooper?” Stoker asked. His stomach remained unsettled, the usual nausea pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Cooper? Jesus Christ, Stoker. Get up sleeping beauty. We have a call.”

He plopped his feet on the floor and shook the cobwebs away. He wasn’t in Afghanistan. He wasn’t crouched in a pool of blood. This was his best friend, Garcia. Okay. I’m okay. After a deep breath he sprang into action, shoving his feet into boots and grabbing his heat and fireproof jacket. “Give me the details.” Live your life. You deserve. The sentiment would never leave him. He’d never be free of the words whispered by a respected soldier.

“Three alarm fire at a residence. Gotta hurry before it spreads to the woods,” Garcia stated and raced away.

Men ran past him, heading for the engines. They all knew the drill, could perform it in their sleep. Stoker hopped onto the engine a split second before it rolled out of the garage. The moon was full, highlighting a gorgeous star filled early morning. Within seconds the sky turned orange. “Shit.”

“Third one in as many days.”

Stoker nodded and glanced at his buddy. Garcia Puevos was grinning, enjoying the moment. The guy was an adrenaline junkie. “You have to wonder if arson is involved.”

“Jesus, bud. You think everything is a conspiracy.” Garcia slapped him on the back.

“Not everything.” Stoker grabbed the metal bar and leaned out as the engine picked up speed. Missoula, Montana had seen one too many raging fires in less than six weeks. Most of the investigations indicated they’d been started by carelessness or accident. His gut told him otherwise. Even the smoke jumping team had been called in.

Within seconds they were on scene. Two engine companies had responded, which meant they faced a serious situation.

“Fuck me. Unbelievable,” Stoker whispered under his breath as he secured his helmet. Flames licked up over the roofline of the massive house. Embers floated into the huge oak trees flanking the perimeter. An angry glow of red and tangerine brightened the sky as the sound of crackling wood created a roar.

“We do this by the book.”

Stoker glanced at his Captain of three years. The man was respected in every circle, including the Governor’s office. Captain Banyon could even run for office himself. “Could be arson.”

Captain Banyon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re called in as backup so you protect the outskirts. From what I’ve heard, nothing is secure yet and the fire’s too hot.”

Garcia jumped off the engine before it rolled to a stop, jerking the hose from its perch. “Everyone out?” he called as the various firefighters rushed into action.

“Family is out. Pets still inside,” came a voice from the smoke.

“Crap. Let’s go,” Stoker screeched as he took off running, turning on the powerful light attached to his helmet. Ominous shadows crisscrossed the terrain, creating a sense of foreboding. He heard Garcia calling from the distance. There was little time to try and save anything, let alone the family pets, yet he was damn sure gonna try. He yanked down his mask and raced into the melee, scanning the perimeter as he searched for an opening.

“What the hell are you doing?” Captain Banyon hissed.

Garcia flanked his side and lifted his mask as a team of early responders motioned their way. “Where are they?”

“The family is over there.” One of the men pointed as he wrangled with the hose, shooting water up at the roofline.

“Not the family. The pets.” Stoker located the front door. There might be two minutes before the entire second floor collapsed into the first. He calculated whether there would be a backdraft. No, the fire was burning in a controlled albeit destructive pattern. The house would be a complete loss.

“Not gonna happen. They’re trapped too far in.”

He glared at the shadowed mask of a man he didn’t know and turned toward Garcia. “We have ninety seconds. Let’s go.”

“You got it,” Garcia answered as both men took off.

“Get back here!” the Captain barked.

They ignored the command as Stoker kicked down the wooden door. A billow of black smoke poured from the interior. He tugged out his flashlight, turning on the high-powered beam, and for a second tipped his head, listening for any telltale signs. A strangled yelp grabbed his attention.

A single terrified woof trickled from the blackness. A second and deeper bark followed.

“Over there!” Garcia yelled.

Stoker kicked over a chair as he moved forward.


Garcia shoved Stoker to the ground as debris slammed down from above. “Need to get out of here.”

“Not without the dogs.”

“You’re nuts, man,” Garcia hissed as he shook off fallen wallboard.

Stoker didn’t care. This was a mission he refused to fail. Another booming sound brought a series of whimpers from the dogs. He dug through wallboard and fallen wood until his hand wrapped around a trembling bit of fur. He managed to grasp two dogs, cradling them to his chest before crawling backward and getting to his feet.

“Come on. It’s about to give!” Garcia warned.

Stoker swiveled to his right, crouched low and headed for what he thought was the front door. Within a split second he became disoriented. The dogs howled and he knew they were struggling to catch their breath. His chest heavy, he shook his head as he recounted his steps. He yanked off his mask, placing the heavy plastic over their faces and shoved his way through the debris. After gulping acrid smoke, he stumbled.

I hope you enjoyed! Don’t forget that the fabulous Fall Over Freebie Giveaway ends on October 12th. 24 FREE books (including one of mine – His Judgment) made available to you. Sexy and very hot men, fabulous stories and all kinds of wicked sex. Here’s the link and enjoy!

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A Dominant Man

Up early this morning, cleaning and keeping the dogs from climbing all over me. Ah, the life of an author. When the Golden Retrievers want to be lap dogs, at the same time – well…  I’m writing the second in my upcoming Fire Devil series. This one is all about dominant men – in and out of the bedroom. They’re smokejumpers. Smokejumpers are elite men and women who are hand selected for one of the most dangerous jobs around. They often jump from perfectly good planes in remote locations in an effort to reduce or put out raging fires altogether. Now, you can b and w elequent loveimagine men in this career are particularly dominating.

I adore my guys in the series. They’re strong, rugged, very masculine and you bet – dominating. They have to be. There’s no time for second guessing or questioning their abilities. They, or a member of their team, could die. I admit, I was thinking this morning about all the reasons we adore dominating or alpha men. Let’s take a peek at some various reasons.

They’re physically strong, both in brawn and in their minds. They tend to take no shit and refuse to be second on anything. They eat competition for breakfast and find almost every aspect of their lives a challenge. They adore women, but want control. They are usually fit, taking pride in the fact they have honed their bodies and muscles, making certain they control their own desires. This takes as much mind control as anything else.

They’re sexy, passion exuding from every cell in their body. They can walk into a room and no matter who might be considered the center of attention, they steal the show without saying a word. From their eyes and the way they say what they’re thinking to how they fit in a tight pair of blue jeans, every man and women will take notice. Some might wear the most expensive suits, complete with jeweled cuff-links while others, true down to the earth working men, look sexy in nothing but flannel and cowboy boots. From a billionaire to a cowboy, they take our breath away. And the way they hunger? Off the charts. You know what I mean, ladies. They refuse to take no for an answer but by golly, they will make their woman the center of attention.

They’re dangerous in all elements. Some are what we consider daredevils, taking a chance or five every day. Whether fighting fires or protecting us in a war, skydiving or rock climbing, they go to every extreme for work and for pleasure. They may command a boardroom and every decision they make is exactly what they know smokejumperstheir company needs, while others in their group are fearful of the outcome. They don’t care. They will do what is necessary in every moment of their lives.

They are often loners, keeping dark secrets from everyone but perhaps their best friend or lover. Few can handle the way they live or their brazen attitudes, so they tend to remain aloof, listening and observing what’s around them. They will never indulge in frivolous conversation, growing bored, but they hear every word you’re saying. It’s important to remain on top and the only way to do this is to stay one step ahead of the competition. The dark secrets lurking in their souls bring out even more  passion or power. If discovered, this is the very key to unlocking the man hiding behind the mask.

They will dominate a woman. Period. When they set their sites on someone special, for whatever reason, the decision becomes vital to their everyday being. While they tend to gravitate toward strong women, they will be the lead, become the alpha. There is no choice. They prefer a woman to submit in every manner and in return, will give their heart and every scrap of love. While true alphas are never abusive, they have a way of usurping their authority in a single look, a touch of their index finger.

Are you shivering yet?

For women, why do we crave this kind of man? For me, I’m bold and brassy, strong and pushy and I also take command in life – but in love? I want a man who refuses to take shit, has patience to handle my missteps and sassy mouth. That’s the way of the majority of women who gravitate toward an alpha male. If truth be told, they long to be dominated. They want to submit, giving their man everything they have. Now, come on, you know you do. Don’t hide behind that false bravado. If a dominating man wanted you, made no bones about the fact he wanted to own you, what would you say or do? Would you run away or would you dream every night, longing for his touch, his kiss, his body?

I know your answer. That’s why so many women read about dominating men. This is exactly what they desire.

The best dominating men in fiction and in real life are also kind souls. They take care of their parents and friends, lost puppy dogs and those broken down on the side of the road. They fight for what’s right in all things and don’t mind sharing their beliefs, no matter the cost. They’d also very good at discipline. From employees to the love of their life, they protect and provide while making certain those closest stay in line.

Is this your kind of hero? Hmmm… I know it’s mine.

I’ll have excerpts of the first in the series – Three Rivers Run Deep soon. There will be a prequel – Standing at the River’s Edge just before the release in early November. I think you’ll love my alpha men. They’re rugged, intelligent, dangerous, dominating and full of passion. What’s not to love.

I hope I have you a little hot and bothered. Have a fabulous day.