Marteeka's Dreams

Friday, September 19, 2014

The Wolves...ARE HERE!

In the Earth of the future, the privileged few build their wealth on the backs of slaves who are neither man nor beast. Those with gold to spare spend it at the Arena. Betting on the Warrior Shifters is the pastime of the elite. Captured for the sport of the masses, they have no choice but to fight or be killed.

Miranda is the daughter of one of the cruelest Gladiator owners in all the land, still her heart remains pure. She only wants to help heal those who have no one to look after them. The last thing she bargained for was catching the eye of the fiercest warrior of all- Brandwulr.

To Brandwulfr, the innocent Miranda is a way out of this godforsaken realm, a way to get home. He doesn’t need to be attracted to the silly little human. He shouldn't want her. Yet there is something in the softness of her touch that sets his blood on fire and awakens the wolf within.


EXCERPT!









Tuesday, August 12, 2014

IN THE WORKS!

I've been working on this for a while, and to say the story has grown a soul of its own is a vast understatement. It's turning into the most involved story I've eve done.

GLADIATOR WOLF (as it's currently titled) is in the works for this fall. I'd hoped to have it done by the end of the summer, but even if I get it finished by the end of August, it will take some time to get edited and proofed before release.

I've just finished an intense sex scene and, to celebrate, I thought I'd give you a little taste of the tale that has become my personal obsession since its conception back in March.

Hope you enjoy...




Plundering her mouth, he slid his tongue inside, taking what she was too stunned to refuse. Miranda trembled beneath his touch, her hands tightening on his wrist and arm. She tried to kick out at him, but he only pressed his body harder against hers, trapping her tightly against the wall. Her fear was a bitter taste, but it was better than letting others think he was at her disposal instead of the other way around. Little whimpers escaped her throat, another bitter taste. Brandwulfr found he wanted this woman whimpering with need, not terror or – worse -- disgust. The thought bewildered him. For a man who was never indecisive, who always knew his course of action, this feeling of indecision was maddening.

Against his will, he softened the kiss, coaxing rather than taking. It wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he seemed unable to do otherwise. Before he knew it, he'd loosened his hold on her neck, turning it into more of a caress than a restraint. He knew the moment everything changed for her. Her body still trembled, she still whimpered, but she met the thrust of his tongue with a tentative stroke. In that instant, Brandwolfr knew he'd have Miranda for his own. He inhaled, taking her scent deeply into his lungs, secure in the knowledge there was nowhere she could go that he couldn't find her. She might be the daughter of his enemy, but she would be his.

As he ended the kiss, Brandwulfr held her gaze, her eyes were slightly glazed but wary. Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips as if she wanted more, but her attention was immediately back on his eyes and her face flamed. Again, fear poured off her in waves, the scent turning from the sweet scent of budding arousal to the bitter taint of fear.

"Why did you do that?" Her question was asked so softly, Brandwulfr was certain even the shifters near by couldn't hear her. It was almost as if she didn't realize she'd actually spoken. Everything in him ached to be gentle with her, screamed at him that she wasn't like him and needed him to be tender, careful. Unfortunately the situation dictated otherwise. He couldn't show weakness, couldn't afford to actually care about her.

"You see all those men watching you? The ones in this cell and the ones across the corridor? Nearly every cell in this place is connected by tunnels. The second I leave you or turn my back, every man here will be after you. And without my protection, they will get you. Do you know what they'd do to you?"

"I have a pretty good idea," she muttered. She shook violently now, her body quivering against his with equal parts fear and arousal. That feminine scent of need called to Brandwulfr on a primal level, one that was nearly impossible to deny, her fear feeding her arousal in a sickening twist of adrenaline. If he were going to get them both out of here alive, he had to ignore it.

"Now, kiss me again or you won't have my protection."

"I will not!" Her outrage was clear, though he could still scent her arousal. "I will not be bullied into being your whore!"

"The only way you're going to live long enough to make good your promise to help these men is for everyone here to think you're my woman. The only way for them to think that is for you to kiss me. Or I could fuck you right here," he sneered. "Stake my claim in a graphic display that would make sure they didn't dare touch you. Your choice, but I don't normally like to display my sexual prowess for an audience." Wide eyed, Miranda shook her head, a silent denial, her face going pale. "Now, this time, I suggest you kiss me back. And you better kiss me like you mean it."

When he dipped his head to hers this time, she met him eagerly, her mouth opened to receive his kiss. With a groan, Brandwulfr gave himself up to the pleasure. Just for a moment. The soft silk of her tongue sliding against his felt like heaven. Where before she'd been stiff and tentative, now she met his tongue almost eagerly thrust for thrust. She still trembled, but the longer he kissed her, the more her arousal grew until he knew the sweet scent permeated the area around them. Every shifter in the area would know she wanted him. With the public display of kissing her in that cell -- and the fact that she was a willing participant -- Brandwulfr was confident no one would dare approach her to do her harm if he had to leave her side. At least not immediately.

He prolonged the kiss; it was too enjoyable not too. The hand circling her throat slid to her breast and cupped gently, his thumb feathering the nipple through the silk she wore. What would she do if he kissed his way down her neck to suck that peak into his mouth? Would she let him? Would she arch to meet him?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, she stiffened, then bit his lip. Hard. To everyone around them, it would merely look as if he'd pulled back from her, ending his show of ownership instead of her rejecting him. In reality, she'd surprised him, her unexpected response to him taking things further than she'd expected oddly arousing. Any she-wolf he'd ever known would have had much the same reaction.

"So, the little human has fangs of her own." She flushed at his observation, apparently not liking being compared to the creatures her father owned. He didn't back out of her personal space though, his body still firmly pressed against hers, his swelling cock pulsing lazily against her soft belly.

"You said I had to kiss you. You didn't say anything about letting you grope me." Despite her angry words, there was fear in her lovely eyes. And, gods help him, something in him needed to back off. Both their lives could very well depend on him being the cold hearted bastard everyone thought he was, but the thought of scarring her made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

"True," he responded, backing off slowly, leisurely. "For now. But make no mistake. Should it become necessary to do more, you will do what I demand."

A spark of temper flared in that expressive face of hers. "You won't bully me into accepting your advances, no matter how dire the situation."

"Because I'm an animal?" His hand was back at her throat, pressing her into the wall once more. "I guarantee you I’m less of an animal than your father. I’m not needlessly cruel nor do I rip children from their mother's arms to sell to the highest bidder. I kill. Quickly. Not slowly, using the hand of another for the sport of the act."

Had she flushed? She certainly turned away, not meeting his gaze so boldly and proudly. The act told him much about the woman before him. Perhaps she was worth saving.

"Because what you're trying to take should be given. Not stolen." Her voice was a mere thread of sound, but it penetrated his being like the sharpest sword. He shouldn't care that she was right, shouldn't care about anything other than the end result. But he did.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

A Hero to Dance with Me



It's finally here! The third brook in the Carver Brother series!

Jezelle (Elle) Temple is a favorite employee at the Wildcat Roadhouse. Not only is she sassy and spunky, she’s sexy as hell with her innocence and girl-next-door looks. When she dances...well. Badass SEAL, Steve Carver never has a chance.

While Elle isn’t the type of girl to take just any man to her bed, there’s something about the brooding SEAL that draws her like a moth to a flame. If anyone needs her bubbly personality, it's Steve Carver. Unfortunately, one night seems to be all Steve is interested in, leaving Elle with a broken heart.

Knowing he royally screwed up, that he left behind the one thing in his life besides his family that was pure and good, Steve returns to Elle. Unfortunately, his sweet little dancer is no longer soft toward him. If anything, she looks at him with indifference, her disillusion obvious. Unable to let her go, Steve still pursues her, thinking that if he won her once, he can do it again.

But Jezelle isn't the type of girl to give second chances unless they're earned, and Steve has to prove he's the man for her. Who knew one little dancer could change his life forever? Who expected that, this was the SEAL who was only too glad to use all his considerable training to win back the heart of the one woman he's ever wanted to keep?

EXCERPT!

Had he ever seen a woman so…enticing? Steve doubted it. Though every single woman working here wore the exact same outfit, Elle made it look like an invitation for hot, sweaty sex. There was nothing overt about her. She didn’t flirt or show more skin than the outfit called for, but she was unconsciously sexy. Which was a huge turn-on for Steve since most women took one look at him and his brothers and generally fawned over them all. Not this woman. She was polite, energetic, talkative even, but all in a professional manner he sensed was designed to put people at ease. Perfect for a waitress.

He followed her with his gaze, watching as she stopped by various tables introducing herself and taking orders before returning to his table with their drinks. As she continued to chat lightly, taking their food orders and offering her opinion–when asked–about certain items on the menu, he was further charmed by her. She gave Melanie the most attention, commenting how the color of her blouse complemented her skin tone. Though she was polite to everyone, she didn’t flirt or give excessive attention to any of the men. Including him. Which displeased him.

“Is everything okay?” Elle asked her question with a raised eyebrow, looking straight at Steve. That’s when he realized he was scowling at her.

“Fine. But I’m paying and will be the one tipping you. You should shower me with attention. Not Melanie.”
Chuckles from his brothers made his face heat. Well, except for Chase who guffawed loudly. To Steve’s consternation, the lovely Elle only grinned.

“Feeling a little left out, big guy?”

“Damned straight.” If he was going to do this, he would do it right. “But you’d go a long way toward making up with me if you saved me the next dance.”

Her already sunny smile brightened.“Happy to.” Then it turned mischievous. “But you have to participate with the group.”

“Oh, no, darlin’,” he drawled. “I want a slow dance. “

She shrugged. “It’s the line dance or nothing, sweets. Sorry, but that’s house rules.” Her grin said she was anything but sorry. “I’ll make sure to come get you before we get ready to start.” Then she turned, and with a swish of her rounded ass sashayed away.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

“I’ll say,” Mike observed. “You? Line dancing? Can’t wait to let your team know about this.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve growled, then immediately threw an apologetic look at Melanie. The little wench had her hand covering her mouth. No doubt to hide a smile.

“He’s got a point, Steve,” Mike mused, looking as if he were seriously contemplating what would happen when his SEAL team found out he was line dancing with a chick. “Could get rough.”

“I think we’ve reached that point,” Rick said gravely. The bastard even looked like he cared deeply about Steve’s safety. When Steve refused to ask “what point,” Rick continued without prompting. “You know. That point where you ask yourself is the cake worth the bake.”

Steve did his best to keep his expression neutral, but his brothers must have seen something there anyway because they continued to snicker. Then he had to go and ruin the effect by muttering under his breath, “Just call me Betty fucking Crocker,” before he could stop himself.

“Wow. Is the cold-hearted SEAL finally falling for a woman? And on first sight too,” Mike said, grinning.
“What part of ‘shut the fuck up’ did you not understand?” There was no way he was going to live this down. But goddamnit, when the little vixen swished her hips in his direction at the end of their meal, Steve found himself rising to take her hand as she led him to the dance floor. For a fucking line dance.

BUY

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Sizzling Summer Giveaway WINNER!



The winner of the Chunky but Funky download is:

KAREN READING

Congrats! And thanks to everyone who participated!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

AVAILABLE NOW! Chunky but Funky

I'll let the blurb speak for the book...


Dalton Colt is what one would call a bad ass motherfucker. If one weren't in the same room with him. If one was in the same room with him, one simply called him “Sir.” Six feet, seven inches tall, he weighed in at nearly three hundred pounds. One hundred percent of him muscle-laden, proud-as-fuck United States of goddamned American bad ass Marine. The very last thing anyone wanted to do was to piss him off. 

Harassing his woman was a damned good way to piss him off. It didn't matter that she wasn't really his woman, it was implied. Fortunately, that was an oversight he was about to fix. But convincing the plus sized, ebony beauty she was the one for him might prove to be his most important mission to date.



EXCERPT!

“Got a little baggage there, doncha, hun?”
If Amanda heard that stupid question one more time, she wasn’t going to be responsible for her actions. Instead of responding to the brute, she pretended she didn’t hear over the noise of the bar. It was easily plausible, plus it avoided a confrontation she didn’t want tonight.
“Looks like a couple of basketballs rolling around in those jeans.”
The guys at the bar next to her just wouldn’t quit. The tittering laughter of the anorexic-looking women on the other side of her, combined with the way all of them looked her up and down with disgust was just too much. How the hell was she supposed to ignore all this when they were practically in her face? Tossing back the shot of Jack in her glass, she turned to face the guys.
“I may be fat, but you’re ugly. And I can lose weight.”
“Ohhhh!” One of the guys grinned at her, siding closer. “Good one, baby. They say sex is great at burning calories. How about you and me see if we can work some of that off?” The infuriating bastard had the nerve to look her up and down as if he liked what he saw even after his insulting remarks.
“No thanks. I’d prefer being fat to having sex with you.”
Again, a collective “Ohhhhh!” followed from several men and women at the bar who’d been watching the exchange. The guy didn’t seem particularly put out, but he did have an annoyed gleam in his eye.
“You should be thankful I even asked you,” he said. “It’s not like you’re going to get much action.” And again, he looked her up and down, sneering as he did. “A good month or so on Biggest Loser would really do you good. I can hook you up with a personal trainer if you’d actually stick to it.” He turned to his buddies and chuckled, as if he’d gotten the last word on the subject.
The fucking nerve! If it wouldn’t be a waste of a perfectly good shot of Jack Daniels—and if she hadn’t already downed hers—she’d have thrown a drink in his face. As it was, she resorted to the next best thing. She slapped him. Hard. Peals of laughter and outright guffaws erupted all around her.
“What the fuck?” The man stumbled back into the bar, knocking over a couple of drinks in the process. “You fat bitch!”
He raised his hand, obviously to return the blow, but something stopped him. His gaze focused on something behind her, freezing him to the spot. His face grew pale and he stumbled backward again. This time, he tripped over the barstool and landing on the floor flat on his ass.
“That’s right, tough guy,” a familiar male voice growled. Even over the blaring music and people trying to talk over said blaring music, Amanda would have known that voice anywhere. And she cringed with embarrassment. How much had he witnessed? “You will get the fuck out. Now.” A huge, heavy hand settled gently on her shoulder, a sharp contrast to his words. His show of possession sent a spike of longing through Amanda like nothing in the entire universe could replicate.
Dalton Colt, a descendant of the Samuel Colt, was what one might call a badass motherfucker. If one weren't in the same room with him. If one was in the same room with him, one simply called him “Sir.” Six feet, seven inches tall, he weighed in at nearly three hundred pounds. One hundred percent of him muscle-laden, proud-as-fuck United States of goddamned American badass Marine.
Most guys would have phrased that demand a little differently. It would go something like, “If you don’t get the fuck out now…” followed by “then I’ll…” Not Dalton. There didn’t need to be an “if/then” clause because whatever the “then” happened to be, no one in their right mind wanted any part of it. Apparently, that included the dunderheaded idiot sitting on the floor with his mouth gaping open.


COMING SOON!

Since I've neglected my blog for a while, I thought I'd post an never before seen excerpt of A Hero to Dance with Me. Just for my blog followers. :)

ENJOY!




Jezelle (Elle) Temple is a favorite employee at the Wildcat Roadhouse in Lexington, Kentucky. Not only is she sassy and spunky, she's sexy as hell with her innocence and girl-next-door looks. When she dances...well. Badass SEAL, Steve Carver never had a chance.

While Elle isn't the type of girl to take just any man to her bed, there's something about the brooding SEAL that draws her like a moth to a flame. If anyone needed her bubbly personality, it was Steve Carver. Unfortunately, one night seems to be all Steve is interested in, leaving Elle with a broken heart and a lasting memento of their one night of shared passion.

Knowing he royally screwed up, that he left behind the one thing in his life besides his family that was pure and good, Steve returns to Elle . Unfortunately, his sweet little dancer is no longer soft toward him. If anything, she looks at him with indifference, her dissolution obvious. Unable to let her go, Steve still pursues her, thinking that he won her once, he can do it again. But Jezelle has a secret she's guarding close to her heart. One that will change Steve's life forever, making winning her heart more important than ever.

EXCERPT!

"How did you know I'd be out back?"
Steve gave her a wolfish grin. "I hounded your manager until he did exactly what I wanted to get rid of me. Besides. He's an old friend."
"In other words, he sold me out. Figures," she harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Come on." Steve grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. A shiny black F-150 sat next to the curb, running as if ready to make a quick getaway. He helped her up into the jacked-up ride on the drivers side. When she would have slid over to the passenger side, he stayed her with a big hand on her thigh. "Don't."
"Safety first," she squeaked. "I need my seat belt." In response, he reached around her and fastened her into the middle seat belt. "I didn't know they still made those," she muttered.
"Show me where you live." Steve pulled out of the parking lot, following her directions. Her apartment building was only a couple of minutes away and before Elle truly had a chance to process her situation, they pulled into the parking lot and he'd dragged her out of the truck.
"I don't normally do this, you know," Elle said as she fumbled with the keys to the door.
"And you won't ever again," he growled.
After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to open her door, Steve simply took the keys from her trembling fingers and did it himself. No sooner did he shove her inside than Elle found herself against the banging door with Steve's big, muscular body pressed against hers, his mouth finding hers with a desperate, possessive hunger.


Thursday, July 3, 2014

OMG!!!

I'm such a BAD GIRL!!! I've completely neglected my blog. I haven't had a post since FEBRUARY!!! I'll be posting some excerpts and links to new books. Cause, yeah. I've had a couple of releases since then. lol

Stay tuned people!!

Teeka

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Illicit Love... moderately erotic excerpt


Thursday, January 23, 2014

Cowgirl Up



Julie Ann is trying to make the best of a bad situation. Her brother mortgaged their ranch to the hilt and dipped into her part of the trust fund their father set up before his death. She's facing certain foreclosure if she doesn't do something. But Julie Ann is nothing if not determined. It's time to cowgirl up and do something about it instead of wallowing in self pity.

Wyatt knows the trouble Julie Ann faces and he's determined to help any way he can. Especially when he realizes the incredible woman he's found with Julie Ann. Knowing Julie Ann would never accept his assistance normally, Wyatt takes matters into his own hands. He'll have Julie Ann and help her keep the ranch, no matter what it takes. All he has to do is prove to her he wants her forever.


***

“Miss Julie Ann?”

She jumped and swung around. Christ! “I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” she stammered, “I was off in a dream world. You startled me.”

The brawny cowboy grinned briefly, the small smile lighting up his weathered but handsome face that was partially concealed by the Stetson. Funny how the same style hat looked so goofy on James, yet only added to the rugged good looks of this man. “Not a problem. We were getting ready to head home for the evening and wanted to see if you needed us to pick up anything in town for you before we came out tomorrow.”

Julie Ann couldn’t help the smile. Wyatt was thoughtful like that. Once a week, he would offer, usually on Thursday so she’d have supplies for the weekend. Why couldn’t she find a man like Wyatt for herself?

“Thanks,” she said, meaning it. “I’m ashamed to admit I made a list for you. I really didn’t want to go back into the Springs before Saturday, and I do need a few small items that won’t be able to wait.”

Wyatt nodded in the general direction of James’s departing truck. “He giving you trouble?” It was said innocently enough, almost like small talk, but something in Wyatt’s eyes told her differently.

“No. He’s just reminding me I have business with him Saturday.” She tried to sound as nonchalant as he had, but she wasn’t sure she pulled it off.

“The loan your brother took out on the place.” It didn’t really surprise Julie Ann that he knew. It wasn’t a secret, after all. But it still irked her that the hired help knew her personal business.

Wyatt put his hands up in a defensive gesture. Her expression must have been more transparent than she’d thought. “I’ve not been nosing around in your business, I swear. James has been bragging to his inner circle how he is finally getting this place. He seems to think he’s getting you too, though I had my doubts about that from the moment I met you. You’re too classy a lady for the likes of him.”

Julie Ann started to reply, but his words wrapped themselves around her heart and squeezed. All her life, she’d been called “tomboy, she-male, frigid, even bitch, or domme.” Never “classy.” Until that moment, Julie Ann had never realized how much those names had hurt.

“I appreciate you saying that,” she managed. Julie Ann wasn’t the emotional type. She took what life dealt without fussing about it and played her hand as best she could. Julie Anndidn’t expect gratitude or sympathy, and never had.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” His piercing blue eyes met hers and seemed to bore straight through her soul. In that moment, she felt more vulnerable than she ever had in her entire life.

With slow, deliberate movements, Wyatt climbed the steps to the porch to stand in front of her. He had several inches in height on her and she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. For the first time, she was struck at how really large the man was. Broad shoulders blocked out the setting sun and seemed to strain the mud-streaked tee he wore. Faded jeans hugged his lean hips and muscled thighs like a jealous lover, accenting his masculine beauty. She didn’t dare linger on those jeans for fear of embarrassing herself. He had a body honed in hard labor, not the gym. A man’s body. It had been a while she’d had the attentions of a man. Letting Wyatt know that would be as bad as letting James know it. Worse, she had the feeling Wyatt would act on that knowledge where James would be afraid she’d do something really nasty to his privates. Which she would.

LULU 
KOBO 

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

New from Marteeka!!

Who cares about the horse!

Amazon!
ARe!
They're as hot as they are dangerous...

Amazon!
ARe!
Been bad? Need four hard SWATs??

Amazon!
ARe!


Cowboy's Home

Revisit this hot, erotic tail.

Wild Creek, Texas is home to one Abigail Dupree. This feisty librarian can take on anyone, anywhere, anytime, but Jayce has her completely tied in knots. He always has. Fortunately for Abigail, she's got him just as bumfuzzled. 

The one woman Jayce could never get out of his head has always seemed unattainable. Not because he couldn't get her, but because he was seriously afraid her mother would take his manhood if he tried. 

What happens when Jayce gets the blessing of Mama Dupree—and the perfect setting to act out his desires?

Amazon!
ARe!

 

A Cowboy's Home


A Cowboy's Home

by Marteeka Karland

Wild Creek, Texas is home to one Abigail Dupree. This feisty librarian can take on anyone, anywhere, anytime, but Jayce has her completely tied in knots. He always has. Fortunately for Abigail, she's got him just as bumfuzzled. 

The one woman Jayce could never get out of his head has always seemed unattainable. Not because he couldn't get her, but because he was seriously afraid her mother would take his manhood if he tried. 

What happens when Jayce gets the blessing of Mama Dupree—and the perfect setting to act out his desires?


EXCERPT!


The drive into the wild Texas landscape intrigued Jayce. Oh, he’d been on road trips plenty of times since moving back to Laurea four years earlier, but this was the first time he’d been with a woman like Abigail. She intrigued him on a level he couldn’t explain, always had. She was totally off limits, being his best friend’s sister, but she was easily the most unconsciously sexy woman he’d ever met. Hell, there was no other woman like Abigail. Not for him. There never had been.
She liked to hide behind her severe bun and glasses, but he was grateful to whoever in the world invented blue jeans. Abigail filled hers out finer than any woman had a right to. That luscious ass flared dramatically from a tiny waist, and those jeans hugged her thighs and that magnificent ass lovingly. The seat belt nestled snugly between full breasts and across lush hips. For the first time since his move back from Maine, he was thankful for the late autumn heat. Abigail’s shirt was sleeveless and low cut, and she had the sexiest arms he’d ever seen on a woman. They weren’t slender, but they were shapely and just well formed overall. He had the sudden urge to find out what they would feel like wrapped around his body, holding him to her. And he refused to think about those lush breasts. They were definitely more than a handful, and he was a tit man. And an ass man. Hell, he was about anything attached to Abigail. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
He bit back a groan and shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Everything all right?” Her voice was quiet and soothing. He could listen to her speak all day. What would that voice sound like crying out in passion? What would it sound like calling his name as he thrust into that lush, curvy body until they were both sated and sleepy?
Oh God.
“Perfectly. How much farther?” He had to clear his throat to keep from squeaking his response.
“Not far. Maybe another half hour.” She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and drove on in silence. Jayce didn’t know if it was better for her to ignore him, like she’d been doing, or try to carry on a conversation with him. When she did nothing, he was left with his wayward thoughts. When she spoke, those same thoughts were worse.
Damn, he hoped they reached their destination soon. The sooner she got them there, the sooner he would have the protection of his best friend. Okay, so protection wasn’t the right word. More like he’d have the sobering thought that the little minx he was lusting over was the little sister of the man standing next to him. That would serve as a reminder of just how deadly Martin was. The man could kill with little effort and, this deep in the wilderness of the untamed part of Texas, his body might never be found.
Nope. Thinking about that wasn’t working either. Jayce had the feeling that a night of passion with little Abigail would be worth any amount of torture, mutilation, and certain death her brothers could dish out.
By the time they drove up the winding gravel driveway, Jayce knew there was no way he could walk straight without adjusting himself. Even then, it was going to be hard. 
No pun intended.


AMAZON