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!