Oh yeah, y’all, we’re getting close. Two more days until Devils on Horseback: Zeke releases in e-book!!

Sorry I’m very late in posting. I’ve been in the writing cave finishing Sarah’s story. Whew.

Today’s excerpt picks up where we left off with Zeke and Naomi in the gloom of Tanger’s jail…

Excerpt #3:

A hiss sounded from her right as he struck a match. Her eyes watered against the bright intrusion. His face was half-hidden in the meager light, a myriad of shadows disguising the real man who existed behind the badge. The cold-eyed stranger gazed at her, and to her credit, she held his stare until he gestured to the lamp.

“The match is gonna burn out before you lift the damn thing.”

Naomi felt a splash of heat in her cheeks as she lifted the glass. The wick lit quickly and she let the globe slide back into place. His gaze found hers and the coolness she’d expected had been replaced by heat. The shadows of the flames danced on the wall behind him, making Zeke appear as though he stood on the verge of hell itself, calling her to join him. Her mouth went dry at the thought.

“I know it ain’t much of a jail, but it’ll do.” He was back to being a gruff sheriff again, the visual lover he’d been disappearing in a blink.

Naomi glanced around at the small building. It had obviously seen better days, judging by the tired appearance of the wooden walls. The cookstove in the corner appeared to be the only source of heat. Atop it sat a battered tin coffeepot. A rickety desk stood in front of her, holding the lamp as well as piles of paper stacked neatly atop. Behind it sat an even worse-looking chair.

It was the object in the far corner that caught her attention. A cage.

Oh, hell no.

The bars were obviously put together by hand, uneven yet thick as her wrist. The entire thing couldn’t have been more than five feet wide by six feet long with a sorry-looking tiny cot inside it. The cage looked to be built for an animal rather than human.

“You are not putting me in that thing.” She cursed the quiver in her voice and her gut.

He raised one blond eyebrow. “Since you broke the law, Miss Tucker, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

She tried to pull her wrist free, but it was like tugging on the steel cage. There was no give to the man whatsoever. “I’m not a dog to be put in a cage.”

“It wasn’t built for a dog. You’ll be safe in there for the night.” He started walking over but Naomi dug in her heels.

“You’re going to have to knock me out because I will not let you put me in there.” Naomi wasn’t about to tell Zeke why she wouldn’t get in the cage. It certainly wasn’t his business to know she’d been kept captive by a crazy man back in Louisiana six months ago. The memory of the four days was enough to make bile crawl up her throat. Her captor had forced her into a cage likely meant for a dog. Before he could do anything besides entertain himself by making her jump, she got free. It was only through the grace of God and a piece of good luck she’d been able to escape.

He frowned as his eyes flashed fire, the first emotion she’d seen from the cold man. “You have no choice.”

Zeke tugged harder and Naomi leaned back, putting all her weight into staying put. Her feet started to slide on the loose dirt littering the wood-planked floor. She tried her best to resist, but he was too strong. No matter how hard she yanked, he was like an oak tree, completely unbendable.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Miss Tucker. I’m just doing my job.” He stopped to glare at her. “I have to do my job.”

“Your job is not to put me in a cage.” She leaned forward and tried to bite his hand, desperate like a fox caught in a trap to free herself.

He moved so fast, quick as a blink, and she was back to chest with him as he held her captive with one big arm. The door to the cell creaked open and the sound scratched her ears until she was sure she was bleeding. Zeke got her near the damn cage so fast, there was no way she could have stopped him.

She punched the steel bars. “Dammit, you son of a bitch. Let me go.”

Zeke put his lips near her ear. “I’m surprised at your language.”

Her temper flared even brighter. Much as she wanted to control her emotions, they ran wild. “Oh shut up, Sheriff. You don’t need to be so pompous.”

Then he did the last thing she expected, he threw back his head and laughed, a hearty gut-busting one that sounded rusty from disuse.

“I’m glad this is so funny to you.” She tried again to move. “It’s not so funny from where I’m standing.”

Zeke got his laughter under control and with a final swipe of his eyes, he met her gaze. The merriment had transformed the sober, staid sheriff into a different man, more handsome and appealing, which surprised and unnerved her. It made him much more dangerous to her equilibrium.

“You are a spicy one, aren’t you, little one?” He smiled then, a beautiful wide grin that knocked her for a loop.

Naomi honestly hadn’t any idea what lurked beneath the hard shell of the man. He showed the world such a cold, distant, albeit striking exterior. She’d certainly believed that façade to be the truth of who he was, but now she saw it was the lie, and this smiling man was the truth.
***

Three days that is until Devils on Horseback: Zeke releases in e-book!

As promised here is the second part of the excerpt for you, look for the next part tomorrow. We pick up where we left off yesterday and Zeke has just arrived at the jail with his first prisoner, Naomi Tucker.

Excerpt #2:

Naomi was caught between being angry and being scared. This big, threatening man with a badge had her in his power and could do whatever he wanted in the darkness. Unwilling to let him take advantage of her, she was prepared to do anything to protect herself. The hard form of the knife in her shoe provided a bit of comfort. If only her hands were closer to her feet, dammit.

Her behind smarted from his hand. The fact that he’d even dared to do it made her pride smart just as much. Men thought they had the right to do whatever they wanted to a woman without consequences. This particular man had a surprise in store if he assumed Naomi would allow him any liberties.

“Please put me down,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m getting a headache.”

“We can’t have that, can we?”

As she slid down the front of him, Naomi was struck with the realization of just how hard he was—exceptionally hard. There wasn’t an ounce of give on the man. When she landed on her feet, she put her plan into action.

She let out a cry of pain. “Oh, my ankle.” She bent over and reached for the knife.

A strong hand closed around her wrist. Enough to stop her movement, but not enough to cause injury.
“I’m an ex-soldier, darlin’. That move wouldn’t work on a five-year-old.” His deep voice caressed her ears in the inky shadows.

Before she could utter a word of protest, he’d captured both her wrists into one hand and pulled her across the floor. He must know his way around the building because they didn’t run into one piece of furniture.

“You’re going to have to help.” He let her right wrist go and guided her hand to a lantern. “Lift the glass so I can light the wick.”

“Do it yourself.” She pulled her free hand away. “Better yet, let me go so I can go back to the saloon.”

He snorted. “That’s not going to happen. There’s a new rule. Anybody who starts a fight in Lucy’s saloon spends the night in jail. You’re lucky I don’t make you pay for all the damage.”

“You couldn’t, only a judge could.” She didn’t have any money left to give and the threat of going into debt because of a randy cowboy made her fists clench.

“This ain’t civilization. The town council and me, we make the decisions for Tanger.” The firm belief in his voice told her what he said was true. “A little saloon girl like you can be held responsible if we say you are.”

Oh, she knew it wasn’t civilization. These small towns in Texas were their own kingdom, taking anything they wanted, when they wanted, and damn any consequences. The bitter taste of anger and betrayal burned on her tongue. She had to remind herself this was Tanger, not Passman.

“I can’t pay for my breakfast, much less broken chairs. That fool decided he was going to force me to—well, you know—and I’m not for sale, at any price.” Her voice shook with fury. “Don’t threaten me anymore, Sheriff, I’m done with it.”

A thick silence sat between them, pulsing with a life of its own. Naomi figured Zeke hadn’t run across many women who stood up to his fierceness. Not to say she wasn’t afraid, but her need for survival overcame that fear. Once upon a time, the opposite was true and Naomi had been afraid of her own shadow, but no more.

“Lift up the glass so I can light the wick.” His tone had changed from impatient to barely contained anger. Naomi was satisfied to know she affected him too.

“What if I won’t?” She wanted to see just how far she could push the good sheriff.

“I throw you on the chair and sit on you so I can have two hands free.”

Naomi had no doubt he’d do it. Zeke appeared to be just as driven as she was, even if they were on opposite sides of the fence. A small, grudging respect for him bubbled up. The thought of him sitting on her wasn’t pleasant at all—he was a big man and would likely smash her into bits.

“Fine. Where’s the lamp?” she snapped, ready to confront whatever the sheriff was planning.

He took her wrist and guided her hand to the cool glass of the lamp. A shiver raced up her skin at his touch, making her heart thump hard. His skin was callused and firm, the fingers long, the palm wide. Normally men had dirty, clammy hands that made her shudder in disgust, yet her reaction to Zeke was far from normal. She wasn’t going to call what she felt desire, yet, but it was damn close.
***

Guess what? It’s only four more days until the e-book release of Devils on Horseback: Zeke!!

Raise your hand if you want to read Zeke’s story!

Yay! I’m so glad to hear it. Zeke was a tough cookie, let me tell ya. He’s a stubborn cuss who just refused to give up his innermost secrets with a really big crowbar at his brain.

Figuratively speaking of course. LOL.

I’m going to be posting excerpts each day until Tuesday, release day, December 2. So please enjoy yourselves and meet Zeke and Naomi.

***

Excerpt:

Zeke thumbed through the stack of wanted posters in the makeshift jail, trying to remember which ones he’d already looked at. The small shack didn’t have much, but Martin had been building a cage in the corner that’d keep a prisoner overnight. It was all Tanger could afford to do until more folks moved into town.

One particular new person in town kept sneaking into his mind. Naomi had been haunting his thoughts since they’d met, and he just couldn’t seem to shake her.

The door flung open, startling Zeke. Joe ran in breathing like a racehorse. The white-haired bartender was a bit quirky, but he was a good man who’d stuck by Lucy through the worst of times. The older man’s face was flushed red and he wheezed with each breath.

“Fight…at the…saloon.” He held up one finger and put his hands on his knees.

Zeke was already on his feet heading for the door. “Who started it this time?”

He didn’t give Joe a chance to answer. Zeke was out the door and halfway down the street in moments. There had been too many fights at Aphrodite’s since it reopened. Hell, he’d been in dozens of them himself when he was drunk. Sometimes he’d even been the instigator.

As sheriff, he had to keep the peace in town, which meant in the saloon in particular. He knew each broken chair and bottle cost Lucy hard-earned money. Many a nights she’d told him how much of a struggle it had been to get the saloon going again and how angry fights made her. In the wee hours one morning, before he became sheriff, Zeke had made a drunken promise to her to stop the fights. Now he could arrest anyone who started one.

His boots slammed into the hard-packed dirt as he ran down the street. On more than one occasion, he’d ended up with black eyes, stitches and sore knuckles after a saloon brawl. Lucy had cleaned him up. This time, he didn’t have any intention of coming away with a scratch.

By the time he made it to the saloon, he’d built up a good head of steam to go with his rising temper. Whoever was responsible would be the first guest in the new jail. Sounds of breaking glasses, grunts, a few screeches and Lucy shouting spilled out into the darkness of the street. A chair slammed into the bar just as Zeke burst through the doors. Splinters flew every which way, some of them grazing his cheek.

He threw up his hand to protect his eyes as he tried to see what was going on. Louisa and Carmen hid behind the bar—the two watched the brawl like it was a damn circus show. Lucy stood in front of the bar, waving what was left of the chair she’d just smashed into bits. She looked angrier than he’d ever seen her.

About fifty men pummeled each other around the room. Some were even rolling on the floor picking up tobacco spit and dirt on their clothes. Zeke kicked at them but they ignored him. Lucy saw him and mouthed, “Do something.”

He pushed his way through the fights, yanking men by the collars, pushing others into chairs, hell he even pulled hair to get them to break apart. By the time he made it to the center of the disturbance, he was panting and thinking the job might not be worth this much trouble. He knew he’d found the instigator when the knot of men grew thicker.

Patience was something he might have on a good day, but this definitely didn’t count as one. He started punching men and they went down fast. The zip of battle lust coursed through him as he made his way through the idiots. That’s when he realized who stood on the table in the middle of the fight.

Naomi Tucker.

Her green dress was ripped at the shoulder, exposing smooth alabaster skin. Her hair was sticking up every which way and her mouth curled into a snarl. In her hands, she held two thick glass mugs, each bearing the bloody marks of a few hits, more than likely on someone’s head.

His heart hammered at the sight of this wisp of a woman fiercely battling fifty men. Like a Valkyrie from Norse mythology, she was a warrior goddess come to life.

Someone poked two fingers into his back.

“Get on with it, Zeke, while I’ve still got a saloon left,” Lucy yelled in his ear.

He knew he had to do something, but Naomi had shocked him. Not many women were able to do that, however he’d already come to the conclusion she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. She confused him, dammit. That thought energized him into action. With a few grunts and curses, he made it through the men and to her feet. When she glanced down, her eyes widened with surprise and a smidge of fear. Good thing too. She needed to be afraid because she was in trouble.

He took out his pistol and fired a shot into the ceiling, with silent apologies to Lucy for the damage. The loud bang echoed through the saloon and everyone stopped as if frozen. Naomi watched him with wary eyes.

“This fight is officially over. If you don’t want to end up in jail, then get your hands off the man you’re punching now. Y’all owe Lucy for the damage, so leave an extra dollar for her trouble.” He took a deep breath and surveyed the bloody faces in the room. “Who started it?”

Fifty men pointed at Naomi. She gasped and scowled at Jeb, the big stupid cowboy who stood next to her with a gash on his cheek and a goose egg on his forehead.

Without a word of warning, Zeke grabbed her and threw her stomach down on his shoulder. It didn’t take her but a second to start beating on his back and struggling to break his hold. Nothing doing. Zeke had his prisoner and he wasn’t about to give into her wailing.

Naomi was stronger than she looked. In fact, she almost got away twice, but Zeke held fast, tightening his grip until he could feel every bone, muscle and, dammit to hell, curve in her body. By the time they got to the house the Devils had dubbed the “shit shack”, which now served as the jail, she had inflicted at least a half dozen bruises. For certain, his thighs would never be the same from her shoes.

“Keep still, Miss Tucker,” he said for the tenth time. “You’re under arrest for starting the saloon fight. You’re going to spend the night in jail no matter how many times you kick me.”

She grunted and kicked him harder. Little witch.

“Put me down.”

That’s exactly what he wanted to do, but until the cell was in front of him, she was stuck on his shoulder. He kicked the door open and cursed when he realized it was dark as hell. The moon hadn’t risen yet and the lamp had gone out.

“I’m going to drop you on your head if you don’t stop wiggling.” Then Zeke did something he never expected to do. He smacked her on the ass.

That not only shut her up but she stopped moving. Satisfied he’d gotten the best of her, he stepped into the gloomy interior of the new Tanger jail.
***

Hope everyone celebrating Thanksgiving has a wonderful day. I am very thankful for what I have and what I’ve been given this year.

*big happy grin*

I didn’t post this morning – it’s been a hell of a week. On Monday I decided it would be a great idea to sprain my ankle and throw myself on the pavement in a parking lot.

In front of four cars.

Isn’t that great?

Of course I’m cooking Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow at my house and had a million things to do. I’ve been hobbling around trying not to actually break it.

Blah.

I’ve got five days to finish Sarah’s story (yikes!), a sprained ankle, kids home until Monday and family coming.

*whimper*

I’m off to put my foot up and order pizza for the hungry hordes. Since I’m cooking tomorrow I’m not cooking tonight.

Happy Wobbly Wednesday!

Today is a very special day – it’s release day for the amazing Sasha White’s Primal Male!

I’ve been Sasha’s critique partner for over three years. She and I are good friends and spirit sisters. I get to read everything she writes before anyone else. A fact I totally love.

Primal Male is an exceptional story. She just keeps getting better and better with each book. This is Drake’s story, the sexy mysterious empath from Sexy Devil. He was always a favorite of mine and I’m so excited for him get his own book.

Of course the woman who captures his attention is a shapeshifter and the sparks fly immediately. Two thumbs up, y’all, this is a hot, exciting paranormal erotic story. Love, love, love it!

Monday’s eye candy for your viewing pleasure.

Isn’t he dreamy?

The Redemption of Micah is my July 2009 release from Kensington. Love, love, love this cover.

*happy sigh*

Are you sensing a theme this week? We are in the deeeeeep freeze here and now this morning, it’s cold enough to snow again.

This time it will last more than five minutes. They (when I say “they” I mean the meteorologists) say we could get up to an inch north of Raleigh.

Gah!

I didn’t sign up for frigidly cold Canadian air in mid-November. Where is the complaint desk?

Sorry I didn’t post yesterday, although it was 55 yesterday (woo!), I was sick. Still not 100% but I’m not lying on the bathroom floor anymore.

Anyhoo, hopefully the snow will go away while I’m getting ready for work… and not return. It’s been 4 years since it snowed/stuck here and I’m hoping we make it to 5.

*crossing fingers and looking for her boots*

OMG, it’s 25 degrees here. That’s really f-ing cold for those of you who use Celsius. After the snow showers yesterday, the weather decided it was going to take a nose dive into waaaaaaaaaaay too cold.

Brrrrrrrrrr

I am f-f-f-freezing this morning. Wool coat. Check. Gloves. Check. Fervent wish for normal temperatures (15-20 degrees warmer). Check.

Anyone else out there shivering their off?

It’s supposed to be cold for at least the next 5 to 6 days. Take back your cold air Canada!