#CoverReveal - Black Hills Desperado by D.L. Jackson (@Dlaree69), a @DecadentPub #Shifter #PNR

When I featured Taryn Kincaid's Wolf Song last week, I'd mentioned it's one of the 4 launch titles for Decadent Publishing's new Black Hills Wolves series. Today, I've got an extended excerpt from D.L. Jackson's Black Hills Desperado. It hits the shelves a little later this month, but you can pre-order it now! 

Black Hills Desperado

by D.L. Jackson

She’s a bad girlfriend.

Nothing Xio Davis does is right. When she abandons her pack, riding out of town on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle, she finds she’s bitten off more than she can chew. First, it’s small-time crimes, then bank robbery. As Xio sinks into the criminal underworld, the FBI catches up with her. Now, she’s got one way out: snitch.

When Xio turns state's evidence against a Mexican drug lord, Agent Marcus Cazador steps up to take her home, giving up his career, his place in the El Paso pack, and all he knows to protect her.

Xio claims she’s not the same wolf who left ten years before, but can she convince Marcus she’s changed her wicked ways? Or will the Black Hills be the end of the road on her long journey to redemption?

Excerpt

“A bank that’s never been robbed. There’s a first time for everything.”

State-of-the-art security. Armed rent-a-cops stationed on either side of the double doors. A busy street making a speedy getaway difficult. A lot of excellent reasons for Xio Davis get back in her Beemer and get out of Dodge.

None good enough to deter her from a challenge.

The two men who’d ridden with her climbed out. The bigger of the pair, Juan, rolled his shoulders before reaching into the cab for a ski mask and weapon, then passing it off to Miguel. “Catch.” He grabbed another and tossed it over the roof to her.

She caught it, slammed a full magazine home, and tucked it under her duster. With a wink, she retrieved her Day of the Dead mask from a recent celebration. “Okay, boys. Let’s break their lucky streak.”

Diego gave her the freedom to do whatever she wanted these days, as long as she kept his bed warm, and whenever she left his hacienda, she remembered to take her escorts with her. Maybe it was his way of keeping his eye on her—or on his money. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like it, so Xio kept the boys too busy to stick their noses in her personal business. Too busy to get close to the truth.

He didn’t smack her around or pass her among his friends and associates. And his men had long ago learned to respect her personal space. After one of his new hires had groped her, the man had lost a couple fingers and ended up in a body cast. Diego didn’t have to say a word or do anything to intervene. She’d policed her own problems.

Her boyfriend had grown busy with cartel business and that suited her fine. Never present, all the better. They didn’t love each other, but had an understanding. He provided for her, protected her when she needed it. She scratched his itch and spent his money.

But life had grown dull. Triggered by a botched bank robbery in El Paso, a restlessness had begun to swell inside her. Why, after all these years, she didn’t know, but it was there, a constant reminder she’d shackled her true nature in her quest to be free.

Her wolf constantly paced in her consciousness. Xio found herself unable to settle, shift, or run in the wilds as her inner beast demanded. Not because she physically couldn’t but because outside forces conspired against her. That was what happened when you lived with humans.

Wolf—dog—it didn’t matter. All made great sausage for hungry families in the villages surrounding the Sanchez ranch, and it was a risk she hadn’t taken in the ten years’ time since she’d almost ended up in a taco on some family’s dinner table.

She didn’t want to be in Mexico, and she didn’t want to be with Diego anymore, but she really didn’t have a choice or anywhere else to go. Hence, the reason she’d crossed the border for this small amusement. Perhaps she could get some of the pent-up energy out. Open a valve and vent.

Speaking of which….

Xio pulled the mask over her eyes and strode through the front doors of the bank. Her two team members flanked her.

No one seemed to notice them yet. Not very observant for a bank that claimed to have a robbery-free record. Deciding to wake them all up, she yanked an AKS-762 assault rifle—with a custom stock and barrel that catered to her size—from under her canvas duster and fired several rounds into the ceiling. Chunks of plaster rained down on the patrons in the lobby. Multiple people screamed and several of the customers hit the floor before she needed to provide them with instruction. Conversely, not everyone appeared to be a rocket scientist. Not a problem. She had great communication skills and hearing protection in her ears.

Xio fired a second time, bringing down more of the ceiling. She pointed at the floor. “On your bellies, ladies and gentlemen.” As though doing the “wave” at a sporting event, they dropped.

She strolled to the front of bank, kicked over one of the posts holding a velvet rope, and stepped over it. She’d never been patient enough to wait in line and wasn’t about to run their little maze now. Xio removed her earplugs and tuned in with her wolf hearing, listening for anyone who might want to be a hero. Not a peep—some crying, but that was par for the course.

Not a daredevil in the bunch.

She eyed the staff on the floor. The one thing all bankers feared was a robber who jumped the teller line, and she was about to become their worst nightmare. They’d taken classes, trained for robberies, all bank staff did—and what did their security specialists warn them about? Her—joining them behind the counter, up close and personal, with a loaded weapon.

“Palms on the floor and your ankles crossed. I haven’t got all day.”

She stopped at one of the windows and without the use of her hands, jumped up on the marble countertop. At five feet two, the feat should have been impossible for a human female of her stature, but she wasn’t completely human—and impossible wasn’t in her vocabulary. In fact, that was why she’d come here, chosen this robbery-proof bank. It was a matter of honor, and a little about her ego. The branch had never been successfully robbed, and she’d decided to change that.

It was Wednesday, the day after their big shipment came in, and the third of the month, when a large majority of seniors got their Social Security checks. Prime for the picking. The setup couldn’t be any sweeter.

She cocked her head and listened for sirens in the distance. Five minutes out, if her hearing served correct. “Here’s how we are going to do this. When I tap you on the shoulder, you get up and fill the backpack with cash. No bait bills. I can tell what they are, so don’t fuck with me.” She hopped off the counter and behind the teller line, nudging the first person there with the flash suppressor on the end of her weapon. “Move.”

With tears in her eyes, the teller staggered to her feet, blubbering something about children at home. Over the last ten years, Xio had heard every story imaginable, and the young woman’s tale did little to change what she planned to do. No, she’d never killed anyone, nor did she intend to start today, but they didn’t know that.

“Save the speech and stuff the bag.” She shoved the backpack into the blonde’s hands. “Now.”

The young woman pulled the drawer open and grabbed handfuls of cash, leaving the bait bill in the till as instructed. Xio didn’t need to see the special ultraviolet ink on it to know what it was. Her wolf could smell that it had been handled a multitude of times by the same person. Once the teller finished, Xio shoved her back to the floor and nudged the next. “Your turn.”

All followed instruction, until she reached the last person, a man. Something about him raised her hackles. She should have listened to the warning, but there were still two minutes left and she’d yet to empty the commercial drawer, where they kept the big money. Greed won over instinct, and Xio toed him with her combat boot. “Up, big boy.”

And wasn’t that understatement of the year? As he stood, she realized he had to be at least six feet four, dwarfing her tiny frame. He didn’t look like your typical banker, at least not any she’d dealt with in the past, and he sure as hell didn’t smell like a banker.

Wolf. Shit.

He looked her in the eyes, holding her gaze for a few seconds, making her trigger-finger itch. She wore a mask from a recent Day of the Dead celebration and had salted her words with a Spanish accent, so unless he could pick out her eyes in a lineup, he wouldn’t be able to identify her.

Regardless, she found his action brazen, considering she’d already fired several rounds, though not enough he’d think her magazine empty. None of the others so much as looked at her. This one had the balls to take a mental snapshot that would help a sketch artist. The last thing she needed. There was also one other thing missing. Fear.

The feeling prodding her before roared to life. Cop. Ah, that’s the reason his scent had seemed so familiar. Double shit. Not only was he a cop, but they’d crossed paths before. This was the man, or should she say wolf, who had been on her trail for months, since her gang had slipped up in El Paso. Lord knew she’d tried to ditch him. Once a wolf got a scent of his prey, he didn’t back down. Things had just gone from bad to worse. She wasn’t sure what pack he was from. More than likely the El Paso Cazador in Southern Texas. Wolves didn’t tend to stray too far from their territories, not higher-ranking pack members, anyway. Something told her he was up there in the group, a Beta, if not an Alpha. The stench of authority clung to him.

Wolf or not, one thing was for certain. He wasn’t here to administer pack law. Suddenly nervous—something that never happened to her—Xio stepped back to put space between them.

She’d walked them into a trap, and if what she saw in the man’s eyes was correct, a carefully orchestrated one. Her only advantage was that she still had a loaded assault rifle. “We need to leave. Now,” she called out to her crew, who were supposed to be watching the customers in the lobby.

No sound. No confirmation they’d heard her. Not good. She couldn’t smell them, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be near an air-conditioning vent or fresh-air exchange. Wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened. She chanced a glance back to see what they were doing, and saw no sign of them. Shit! They’d either bailed, left her to take the fall, or they’d already been apprehended while she’d been preoccupied with cleaning out the teller stations.

As she turned to address the cop, her weapon was wrenched away and the butt caught her in the jaw. Xio dropped like a bag of rocks. Her wolf wasn’t helping her out of this one. That was what she got for letting her ego get involved.

“Good morning, Miss Davis. Let me introduce myself. I’m Special Agent Marcus Cazador of the FBI. Didn’t anyone ever tell you banks are most often robbed within the first few minutes of opening? We figured you’d be here, after the invitation we’d extended. Safest bank in Texas. I can see you liked the billboard at the port of entry. You and I have a lot to talk about, but business first.”

He’d used her real name, one she hadn’t heard in ten years. It sounded strange coming from his mouth, but also right, as though he’d been born to say it. Not good. This man was dangerous in so many ways. “Bite me.”

About D.L. Jackson

D. L. Jackson is an award-winning author of urban fantasy, science fiction, military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can. When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers. www.authordljackson.com

#WriteTip - Location, Location, Location by Christy Gissendaner (@ChristyGis), an @EtopiaPress #PNR Author

The remarkably prolific Christy Gissendaner just polished off a brand new paranormal romance. In addition to snagging an excerpt and her gorgeous wolfy cover (by the way, purple is my official favorite color--regardless of the pinkification of my laptop and phone), I also pried her for a writing tip. Here's the skinny on how Christy came up with the gorgeous setting for her Tybee Island Shifters series. 

Location, Location, Location

by Christy Gissendaner

Like they say in retail…location is everything. Which is why for my latest series, I chose Tybee Island, Georgia as my setting and home to the fabulously wealthy Randolphs. I’ve never visited Tybee, so I drew on the internet and my experiences with other islands to create the playground for the rich and beautiful.

Tybee Island is located off the coast of Savannah, a city with elegance and Southern charm. Creating the Randolphs’ beach house was the stuff dreams are made of. For a beach lover like me, who would like nothing better than to live by the ocean, I poured over pictures found inside real estate brochures. I created a white, two-story mansion with large porches, an Olympic-sized pool, and a cute stone archway near the kitchens. (Just to give it character.)

That’s the joy of writing. I can take a simple idea and transform it into sheer perfection. And speaking of ideal, what could be better than a sexy alpha male with money to spare, unsurpassable good looks, and devotion to his family? The Tybee Island Shifters series began with Drake Randolph, who personifies perfection and Emma Anderson falls for him instantly. But Emma is more than human…possibly even a mermaid. Check out In Too Deep, book 1, to learn more about Drake and Emma.

Summer in Tybee Island heats up again in In Deeper, book 2. Micah Randolph and Celeste Proctor (Drake’s beta and ex-girlfriend) fight to keep from denying their shared attraction, while searching for the person threatening Celeste’s company. I once again returned to Tybee Island and the Randolphs’ beach house for Micah and Celeste’s tale. And the heat is off the charts. Trust me, you don’t want to miss the antics of these two!

Thanks for having me today, Tara, and I hope ya’ll enjoy the excerpt! And check out that cover. Isn’t Micah one hot commodity? [Tara: *Fans face* Hot commodity might be an understatement...]

In Deeper (Tybee Island Shifters 2)

by Christy Gissendaner

The alpha’s brother has met his match.

Celeste Proctor always had the best of everything—expensive homes, fashionable clothing, and the coveted position of beta to the most powerful of all lycans, Drake Randolph. But after the alpha chose another to be his bride, Celeste is left without a mate. She needs one, and fast—the stronger, the better–to maintain her carefully cultivated position. One of the alpha’s brothers will have to do, but which one?

Micah Randolph has always lived in the shadow of his oldest brother. With his country music career heating up, Micah is looking forward to a whirlwind tour and achieving his own success, separate from his position within the powerful Randolph family. When the beautiful yet untouchable Celeste Proctor shows up, determined to mate with him or his twin brother, he has a choice to make: pursue the dream he’s worked so hard to achieve, or be drawn back into pack politics as the mate of a woman looking only to secure her rank in the pack? But the way she makes him feel when she looks at him…can he make her want him for more than his strong, lycan blood?

Buy Links: Amazon

Excerpt

How in the hell had it happened? One moment he was blinded by rage. The next he was consumed by lust strong enough to knock him on his ass.

Celeste didn’t know what she did to him. If she did, she’d turn and run. He didn’t want to only mate with her. He wanted to mark her, brand her as his own for the entire world to see. It wasn’t a case of wanting something of his brother’s. Drake’s claim on her was merely as the alpha to her beta. They were friends now. Nothing more.

Micah’s mind suspected the truth even if his heart didn’t. He’d never thought of her as Drake’s. He’d been unable to, no matter how much he tried.

He slid his hands lower and caressed the slope of her ass. The heat of her skin radiated through the leather and warmed his palms. What he wouldn’t give to peel the tight pants off and reveal the lush curves he’d only glimpsed once.

He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. “Tell me to go.”

She wriggled her ass closer. “I don’t want you to.”

He groaned. “This is madness.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She leaned backward and met his gaze. “I’m tired of being on my own. I want something that’s mine.”

“I’m not a piece of property you can add to your collection.”

She gave him a fierce frown. “I’m more than a spoiled rich girl.”

Let her go and walk away. He didn’t heed his subconscious’s advice. She was there, in his arms, and his cock took over thinking for him. There were very few things in life he was unable to resist, but she topped the short list.

Celeste ran her hands up his chest and cupped his shoulders. Her fingers curled into his skin, holding him in place even though he wasn’t thinking of running. “I’m tired of being the girl everyone thinks has everything. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone.”

“Sure, I do.” He lowered his head. The taste of her kiss would be a memory no longer, no more a dream that replayed over and over in his head at night. “Everyone is alone eventually.”

He moved his mouth closer, already imagining the sweet taste of her. He would’ve experienced the sweet joy of having her again had his phone not chosen that moment to ring.

He closed his eyes and cursed at the sound of the familiar ringtone. “It’s Drake.”

ABOUT CHRISTY GISSENDANER

Christy Gissendaner is a romantic comedy author and believes that laughter and love should go hand in hand.

Christy lives in Alabama with her husband and three sons. She’s always hard at work on her next novel, but in her spare time she loves blackjack, karaoke, and anything resembling a vacation!

To find out more, check out her website!

Website | Twitter | Facebook | GoodReads

#NewYearsEve #Romance #Giveaway Hop - My #Writing First(s): 2014 in Review

Thanks for pausing at my stop on the New Year's Eve Blog Hop. Visit all the blogs to win goodies. Each stop has a prize. Since it's the end of the year, I'm going to make mine super simple.

Ready? 

DOOR PRIZEs (my 2013 backlist)

I'm conducting a poll. Leave a comment here (with your email address) telling me what type of eBook reader you have, and I'll send you the following 3 eBooks.
 NO RAFFLES. NO WAITING. As soon as I see your comment, I'll email you the files. It's my end of the year treat.
Click  here to enter a $15 Giveaway

Click  here to enter a $15 Giveaway

For those in search of a cash prize, check out this nifty banner. It leads to a completely unrelated $15 Giveaway to celebrate the release of my New Year's Eve paranormal romance (hint, hint...)

My Writing "First"s: 2014 in Review

Since this post goes live on December 31, it seemed the perfect opportunity to go over this year's publishing experiences. While 2013 marked the beginning of my journey as a romance author, 2014 came with a whole bunch of new benchmarks. Over the past 12 months, I've figured out the kind of stories I want to write, the heat level I'm most comfortable with, and I now have a better grasp of the publishing industry in general. In a way, this year contained far more self-discovery than the one prior. Here are 2014's writing "First"s, in chronological order. 

My first series 

I started my writing journey with the best of intentions to stick with a single series (connected standalone romances set in the same world). But once I published my first book, I realized I didn't have a very good idea of what (and, more importantly, how hot) I wanted to write. This led to my decision in 2013 to follow-up Tower in the Woods (a sci-fi romance, set in a post-apocalyptic zombie world, containing explicit sex with light BDSM) with More Than Strangers (a contemporary romance containing explicit sex with no kink). While writing the latter gave me a good idea of where I stood on the heat spectrum, I nonetheless challenged myself with Warlock's Pawn (a fantasy romance containing explicit sex, light BDSM, menage elements, anal play--the hottest I'll ever write, basically). As such, it was only in January 2014 that I released Catching Red, the second (and, most likely, the last) installment in my Undead Fairy Tales series. It was a labor of love, written with full knowledge of how few copies of the first book sold, and I'm glad it's out there. 

My first asian heroine

In case you haven't noticed, I'm a (naturalized) Asian American. I also spend the majority of my life overseas. As such, it seemed somewhat odd, even to me, that my first non-white heroine showed up in my sixth published book. I wrote all about the hows and whys of this decision for Ana's Advent Calendar, so I won't dig into the topic of diversity in romances here. Suffice it to say that Maya Jain, the heroine in Operation Owlis a second generation immigrant whose parents are from India. I had a lot of fun writing her, and I plan on writing many more interracial/multicultural romances in the future.

My First paranormal romance

There is some debate over this topic, but I consider zombies science-fiction  (especially since mine are the product of a virus). My first warlock, Duncan, dwelled in a fantasy kingdom, not a slightly different version of the world we live in today. I think I tested my ability to write paranormal romances last because I love this subgenre the most. Since I dream of writing as well as Nalini Singh one day, it took a while before I worked up the confidence to pen the witchy world of Flirting with Fire

My First Short Story

Being an author is about making connections, and one of those connections was with my editor, Kate Richards. She was kind enough to name-drop me when Anastasia Vitsky was looking for contributions to her Spank or Treat anthology, and thus Snowbound was born. Writing it reminded me of my life before publication. I wrote it for fun, had a blast, and went back for more. (FYI: Love Spanks - February 2015...stay tuned)

My first new Adult romance

Okay, I admit to doing this by accident. Learning from previous experience, I wrote my entire A Witch's Night Out series at once, and all the characters are connected. Catalina Gato is the heroine in Flirting with Fire. Mina, the heroine in Frosty Relations, is best friends with Cat's sister, Sweets (who is, incidentally, the heroine in Fireworks at Midnight). Anyway, for story reasons, Mina happens to be 22-years-old, and a recent college graduate struggling with her life as an adult. Apparently, this is a whole separate subgenre in fiction, one which I learned about at around the time I had to fill out marketing forms. 

My First New Year's Eve Romance

Here comes the plug. This is a New Year's Eve hop. I just wrote a New Year's Eve paranormal romance. Here's a fireworks-filled snippet to tempt you. If you like it, check out the book page to enter a $15 Giveaway. 

Recent college graduate and part-time cat familiar Dulcina “Sweets” Gato is having the worst New Year’s Eve in living memory. End of year expenses trigger serious cash flow problems, and her microwave just went up in smoke. To make matters worse, her best friend’s overprotective big brother is back in town, and his return threatens to put a huge crimper on her nocturnal activities. The only thing she can look forward to is Madame Eve’s 1-Night Stand service. After all, she’s sick and tired of being a 21-year-old virgin.

 

(Adult-only) Excerpt

When had Mikal become the epitome of boring?

She missed the boy who’d annoyed all their neighbors with his motorcycle, the guy who got her and Shelley their first fake IDs. Ever since he’d morphed into a responsible peon, had a security clearance, and drew a steady paycheck, his mere existence turned her into an unsuccessful loser by comparison.

Playing with the seatbelt’s metal clasp, Sweets looked up through the sunroof. Light glinted into her eyes, and, in a hazy precognitive rush, the glass was gone.

The sky shifted from bright blue to an ebony expanse dotted with white twinkling stars. The car’s confines should have been cold, but a warm circling breeze licked her skin. She sat on the same seat, facing the opposite direction. Bare shoulders occupied her vision; strong hard legs rippled under her ass. Cinnamon, mint, and sweat filled her lungs, all laced with an undertone of pine. She kissed a beard-covered jaw, trailed her lips down a corded neck, and explored a muscled chest the color of chocolate.

Calloused palms slid up her back. Strong sure fingers unhooked her bra and smoothed the straps off her shoulders. Coarse facial hair rasped over her nipple before a hot, wet mouth closed over it and sucked. Her shoulder blades hit the dashboard. His swirling tongue feasted on her breast. His hand shoved her legs apart.

He circled her clit with his thumb, pulsing over it until her head rolled back.

She spotted fireworks through the glass, flashes of red, white, and blue reflecting off rippling water. Her own voice echoed in her ears—pleas she’d never dreamed of voicing.

Two thick fingers filled her, spreading as she spasmed. A scream ripped from her throat. “Mi—”

The door opened with the quiet click characteristic of new cars, shattering her erotic daydream.

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Layla Tarar

Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, she enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, fantasy worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Visit Tara at www.taraquan.com

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