So today is release day for Bound, #1 in The Wild Wild West Novella Series with Carina UK. I’m thrilled to be able to tell you that this week also sees the release of the two other books in the series Scandal and Menage. Each historical romance story features a daughter of Deadwood, a woman affected by her links to the famous location. I hope that you enjoy the books and that you’ll come back and let me know what you thought.
Have a wonderful week!
Bound – The Wild Wild West #1 – by Molly Ann Wishlade
Genre: Historical Western Romance
Series: The Wild Wild West Novella Series
Here are two excerpts from the novella for you to enjoy:
“Don’t you move a muscle!”
Layla stiffened as a hand covered her mouth. She blinked hard and tried to peer through the gloom.
Panic seized her. Where was she? What was happening?
Her arms were pinned to her sides. There was a weight crushing her chest, restricting her movement and her breathing. She wriggled instinctively, her mind still foggy with sleep.
She was trapped!
“Now listen up, missy,” the deep voice continued. “Stop your struggling! I’m gonna remove your Stetson but you better keep still, ya hear?”
That was why she couldn’t see! She had pulled her father’s old hat over her eyes so that she could get some sleep. The afternoon sun had been hot, even through the trees. But now…someone had discovered her.
Would he hurt her?
She squinted as the cover was removed from her face. It didn’t make much difference. It was pitch black. She must have slept through the whole of the afternoon. Darn it! She’d only intended on taking a quick nap. She tried to focus on slowing her breathing but she was only able to catch little breaths.
The man straddling her chest pushed Layla’s hair back from her face with a callused hand and she frowned. As her eyes adjusted, she could just make out the outline of his head, a dark silhouette against the stars above. He moved and the hand covering her lips exerted more pressure. Her teeth dug painfully into her lips. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she felt sure that he must be able to feel it hammering beneath his muscular thigh. Fear surged through her and a red haze flooded her brain.
She had to get away. She had to escape.
She forced her mouth open then bit down on the flesh of his palm. It was instinctive, a physical reaction to a physical situation. She was consumed by terror. If he was going to hurt her then she’d inflict pain upon him first. However she could.
He growled and whipped his hand away but his weight remained in place. Crushing. Constricting. Impossible to displace.
“Now then, missy.” He pressed his mouth against her ear. She winced, expecting to smell unwashed man and to feel his stubble graze her cheek but instead she smelt potash soap on clean-shaven skin. Even with her sleep-addled brain, the scent reassured her as it brought with it images of civilisation and safety. Of a long-ago childhood. So he wasn’t a bandit. He hadn’t been out here for days or weeks. Perhaps he was even respectable. But that was probably too much to hope for. And as she knew all too well, even a man who appeared to be respectable could be hiding a darkness. A hidden side that would lead to pain, degradation and heartbreak for a woman who fell for his charms.
“I’m gonna remove my hand from over yer mouth. But you gotta promise not to scream.” He laughed. “Not that it would do you much good out here…but, well, to be honest with you…I can’t abide a woman screaming. You understand?” His voice reverberated through her chest, tickling beneath her armpits like a feather and making her nipples turn confusingly into hard little peaks. She had hoped to disguise herself as a young man by binding her ample bosoms tightly and donning trousers but it seemed she’d fooled no one.
Layla nodded. She was stuck in a bad box, no doubt about it. She realised now that screaming would get her nowhere. Might even conjure up a few other wastrels who’d be intent on having their way with a woman fool enough to wander out into the Black Hills alone.
What had she been thinking? But she’d been lost, alone, without a choice. She had acted upon the instinct to flee, too afraid to stay and meet her fate. The fate that she’d played a part in arranging.
The man removed his hand and she moistened her lips with her tongue. She could taste wood-smoke and soap. This man kept himself clean. He’d also recently made a fire. Her belly growled and she silently cursed her human frailty.
“You hungry, eh missy? We’ll have to see about getting you some victuals in a while then. But you gotta promise to behave.”
“Who…” Layla tried to take a deep breath but the man’s knees crushed her sides.
“Who am I?” He finished her question. “Well that’s for me to know…and for you to find out.”
Layla gasped. “I…I can’t…bre…”
“Oh!” He jumped to his feet. “Sorry…Didn’t realise I was squashing ya.”
He grabbed her hands and pulled her upright.
“Now remember what I said…” He kept hold of her wrists.
“I remember,” Layla nodded. Black spots swam before her eyes and she staggered. The stranger caught her beneath her armpits with his large hands then scooped her up. She leant her head against his chest, momentarily too weak and dizzy to protest.
“Now I’m gonna take you back to where I’ve set up camp then we’re gonna have us a little chat. Understand?”
“Yes,” Layla whimpered. She cleared her throat. Better not to sound afraid. “I mean…yes, I understand.”
What on earth did he want? What if there were more men there and he intended on sharing her with them? She glanced around but the trees were thick and the moon was a sliver in the sky. She’d likely break her neck if she tried to run off and she felt too weak to even attempt it. Better to wait and see what he wanted to talk about and maybe get something to eat. Build her strength a little so she could think. Clear her head. Then plan.
Charlie had to stop himself from taking a few steps forward and grabbing hold of Layla. The sheer beauty of her naked form was playing havoc with his body and mind. Sure, he’d seen a woman’s body before, seen a few in fact, but none of them had been this perfect, this beautiful, this desirable.
He dragged his eyes away from her creamy flesh.
“Etu?” He nudged his lover’s shoulder but Etu didn’t move. He stood in front of Layla like a statue, his eyes glued to her body. He watched as Etu hovered his hands over her form, tracing her curves without actually making contact. Etu had fallen hard.
Charlie knew that he would have to take charge.
He grabbed the rope that Layla had escaped from and ran it through his hands. If he wasn’t so confused by the feelings running through him, he’d have found the situation funny. Here they were, the three of them, in the woods at night, naked. Charlie, his lover and their mail-order bride.
Who’d have thought that an advert in a paper would come to this?
He had to tie Layla up. He just had to. He couldn’t risk her escaping again. Especially now that she’d seen him with Etu.
“Put your hands behind your back, Layla.” He used the voice he reserved for calming a startled horse. Low, deep, commanding.
Layla opened her eyes and stared at him. She cleared her throat as if to speak. Her bottom lip quivered. He felt his gaze drawn to her breasts again then lower. Lower. To the auburn curls at the apex of her thighs. He knew that if he parted her legs he would see the shiny pink folds of her sex. Glistening. Inviting. Encouraging him to penetrate her feminine flesh.
Dammit! He had to stay strong here.
Etu turned to him. “Charlie…is this really necessary? She won’t try to run off now. Look at her.” Etu gestured at Layla and Charlie swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was driving him crazy the way that her beautiful auburn hair fell over her shoulders and her green eyes shone. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought that she even looked aroused.
But that would be ridiculous, right?
He moved towards her and she stiffened. He pulled her hands behind her and looped the rope around them. This close, he could smell her sweet musky scent. It made him want to pull her against his chest. His whole body was responding to her proximity, her femininity. It was so different from Etu’s. It made him want to run his tongue over every inch of her flesh in order to taste her sweetness.
His erection brushed the backs of her thighs as he tightened the rope. She gasped. He bit hard on his lip and breathed deeply. He had to regain his control. But it would be so easy to press his cock between the soft flesh of her buttocks until he found a way inside.
“Now kneel.” His voice was husky. He ached with the strain of denying his desires.
He helped her to lower to the ground. Etu knelt also. Watching. Hardly blinking.
Charlie knew that Etu was overwhelmed too. It was as if something had sparked between the three of them and it wouldn’t take much to set the three of them on fire. But the ensuing blaze could make charcoal of them all.
He put his hands on Layla’s shoulders and pushed gently, to make her lie on her side. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath his fingers. It reminded him of velvet. He began to wind the ropes around her, tying her like a hog, all the while repeating to himself that she was a swindler. She was not the sweet, innocent young woman that her letters had suggested. She did not need his protection and a place in his life. She would not be good for him and Etu. It would not be wise to open her rounded thighs and to nuzzle her wet pink flesh, to suckle her bud until she shattered against his tongue. Time after time until his mouth filled with her heady juices and he found the ultimate fulfilment that he could now admit that he craved.
But as he moved his hands deftly around her flesh, accidentally grazing her as he did so, he realised that he was not fully convinced.
The softness of her skin. The fullness of her breasts. The soft auburn curls that covered her mound. Her sweet vulnerability that seemed to reach out to his protective instinct. Her scent, such a contrast to Etu’s yet just as good. Just as intoxicating.
All these things about Layla invited him to believe that she was who she had said she was. What he wanted her to be. All these things made him want to believe that she could be the woman to complete what he had with Etu. And all these things aroused him in a way he had never expected to be aroused around a woman.
There was something special about Layla Powell. No doubt about it.
So it’s release day for Harlot at the Homestead with Totally Bound! Woo hoo! The short novel (33,707 words) will be on general release on April 4th. It’s the first in a series about the Duggan siblings and their life in Montana.
Here’s the series blurb:
The Duggans of Montana work hard and play harder.
Kenan Duggan looks out for his twin sister Rosie, and Matthew and Emmett, their two younger brothers. The Wild West is a tough place to live and each one strives to carve out their life on the land whilst battling the prejudices, contradictions and restrictions of an ever changing society.
They say that blood is thicker than water…but can these siblings find love and still hold on to family ties?
So what is Harlot at the Homestead about?
Here’s an excerpt:
“Kenan!” The cry pierced the night like a flaming arrow. “Help me!”
Kenan jumped to his feet, instantly alert. Just moments ago he’d been slumped in the fireside chair, losing the battle against exhaustion as the rain pattering against the windows and the crackling of the fire had lulled him to sleep. After two months on the cattle trail, he’d been relieved to be back at the Duggan homestead and his mind and body had begun to unwind.
But someone needed help. He grabbed his gun belt from the floor by the chair and fastened it around his waist.
“Kenan!” The anguished cry came again, carried on a voice filled with pain and fear.
He turned to check on his siblings, but the three of them stood wide-eyed and pale behind him like unearthly spectres haunting the dimly lit room.
So who, on earth, had called him?
“Kenan, what was that?” Rosie rushed to his side and took hold of his arm. The alarm in her amber eyes was echoed in his racing heartbeat.
“It sounded like…” He squeezed his twin sister’s hand. “Like…but it can’t be.”
There was a thud from outside as something landed on the wooden porch. Kenan took hold of Rosie’s shoulders and pushed her back towards their two younger brothers.
“Stay here,” he growled.
As he turned and walked towards the door, he removed his gun from its holster. He held it steady in his right hand and placed his left one on the door handle.
“Matthew, keep Rosie and Emmett well back.”
Matthew nodded his dark head, his own gun already cocked.
Kenan released the catch and slowly opened the door, letting in the black night, the rain and a dead woman.
“Dear Lord in Heaven!” Rosie appeared at Kenan’s side as he lifted the inanimate woman in his arms and carried her towards the warmth of the fire. She was drenched and ice cold. He laid her on the rag rug in front of the hearth and gazed at her.
“Kenan?” Rosie patted his shoulder and he stared into her bewildered eyes.
“It can’t be.”
Matthew knelt at Kenan’s side and frowned at the sight before him. “How…why…I mean…”
Kenan shook his head. “I have no idea but she’s soaked through and most likely has a fever.” His thudding heart threatened to explode at any moment and as he reached out to smooth back the girl’s sodden red hair, his hands trembled violently.
This didn’t make any sense.
He couldn’t fathom how or why, but Catherine Montgomery, the fiancée he’d grieved for the past two years, had appeared out of the blue at his homestead. His mind raced with unanswered questions but a flicker of hope sparked deep in his gut. He realised that in spite of his uncertainty and regardless of his fears, he was darned glad to see her—the woman he’d thought he would never see again.
“We’d better get her out of these wet things.” Rosie nudged Kenan’s shoulder.
“Yeah…of course.” He leaned over and lifted the unconscious woman from the hearth.
She was as light as lamb’s wool and blossoming warmth seeped through her damp clothing. Everywhere their bodies touched, his skin burned like it had been seared with a white-hot poker. He’d dreamt of holding her in his arms so many times and he’d even made silent promises to whatever deity existed that he’d ask no questions if she could just reappear in his life. But now that she had, Kenan was aware that he had a whole barrel full of questions that couldn’t remain unanswered.
“Take her through to my room,” Rosie whispered.
Kenan walked slowly, careful not to bump Catherine’s feet against the table or the door frames. He looked down into her beautiful pale face and savoured the beauty of her petite freckled nose and her coral rosebud mouth. Suddenly, she opened her eyes wide. She frowned for a moment then her pupils enlarged and Kenan’s heart leapt with a mixture of love and fear. She’d come back from the dead but how and why? And what had happened to her?
Hope that you head on over and get your early download of Harlot at the Homestead. If you do, let me know what you think!
To celebrate the start of 2014, I thought I’d post a sexy little excerpt from my release Desire in Deadwood. It was published in 2013 with Totally-Bound.
In the excerpt below, Nate Hamilton has been reunited with his former lover Evelyn Campbell after a decade. She is a destitute widow and Nate has offered her a way to make some money – as his own private whore. At this point in the story he has demanded that she strip!
Also if you have any questions or comments I’d LOVE to hear from you! Hugs! Molly xxx
Evelyn’s knees knocked together as she tried to decide what to remove first. She fingered the buttons at the neck of her blouse and she fumbled with the top one.
“Leave it!” Nate’s growl startled her.
“Let your hair down first.” She pulled at the pins that held her heavy locks in place then let them drop to the floor, one by one. When she had finished, she shook her head and ran her fingers through the honey waves, reminded as she did so of how Nate had loved her hair, loved seeing it down and pressing his face into it.
“It’s still so long.” His voice was husky. She nodded.
“You used to love it.”
He frowned, his eyes hardening, and she took a step backwards. “There were a lot of things I used to love about you, Evelyn.”
“Oh, Nate.” She covered her mouth to damn the torrent of words. A noise from the hallway made them both turn.
“Is everything alright in there, Mr Hamilton?”
“Fine,” he snarled.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Who is that?” Nate demanded.
“Why it’s Dan Doherty, Mr Hamilton!”
“I’m fine, Doherty. Now clear off!”
“As you wish, sir.” The man’s muffled laughter grew fainter as he walked away.
Looking back at Nate again, Evelyn realised that the small room was darker than when she’d arrived. It was past four o’clock and the shadows were deepening, filling the corners of the room and spreading across the floor. It gave her some comfort, at least she didn’t have to strip in the harsh light of midday. She looked around for somewhere to sit. The room’s only furniture included the chaise longue, a footstool, a smudged looking glass, a mahogany changing screen and a bed with a soiled mattress.
She moved the short distance to the bed where she perched upon the edge and began to untie her boot laces then she tugged them off and stood them together on the floor. When she lifted her skirt a little to get to her stockings, she heard Nate’s sharp intake of breath and looked up to see him staring at her, his eyes dark with desire.
“I think that we should remain formal, Mrs Campbell.” He pushed himself upright and licked his lips. “This is, after all, a business transaction.”
“Yes, of course.” Her heart plummeted to familiar depths. She rose and went to stand in front of him again. She reached up to her collar and began unfastening her blouse. As each button was released from its hole she paused, hoping that he would stop this degradation but he made no sound, no movement. He just sat and watched her hungrily.
Once her blouse hung open, she looked him in the eye. At a slight nod of his head she shook the blouse from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He was in control here, he had bought her and she would earn her money. She had to because she needed it so desperately. As he stared at her she felt that he would burn through her skin and into her very soul. His gaze was unflinching. She looked away into the corner of the room to avoid eye contact. Her hair fell down over her chest and the plump mounds of her breasts protruded, covered only by her thin chemise. When she took a shaky breath, she felt the stays of her corset against her ribs whilst the lace edging around its top rubbed against the underside of her bosom. Her nipples strained against their covering, so tight that they ached. She wanted to be touched. She knew that Nate saw all of this and she surrendered to the urge to look at him. She scanned his form, from his dusty black boots, up his long legs in their pinstripe pants and arrived at his groin. She whipped a protective hand across her chest.
What did she see? Why not pick up a copy to find out? 😉 xxx
“You all right there, Miss Carpenter?” Gideon’s deep voice startled her, and her cheeks filled with heat.
“Yes!” She lifted her chin and increased the speed of her fan. “Why? Shouldn’t I be?”
As he watched her with his dark fathomless eyes, she felt like he could see right into her mind and read her naughty thoughts. Ridiculous. Really. But it was like he was roaming around in her head, peering into all the darkest corners. A shiver ran down her spine like a mischievous finger.
“Glad to hear it.” He doffed his black hat then returned to his little black book, a smile playing on his full lips. Amber stared at them for a moment over the top of her fan, musing about how it would feel to kiss him. The thought sent a hot flush flooding through her body. It tingled under her armpits and swirled in her stomach.
“What are you writing in there?” Amber queried and leaned forwards a little as if to try to see his scribblings.
“Oh nothing of interest, Ma’am. Just working out some figures is all.” He winked then, and Amber stiffened in surprise. The gesture, though unacceptably familiar, had made her heart leap.
Want to read the rest?
Happy Boxing Day!!! 🙂 xxx
Today I’d like to welcome the wonderful Charlene Whitman to my blog!
Her novel Colorado Promise is Book One in the Front Range series.
In this passionate sweet Western Historical Romance, author Charlene Whitman introduces Emma Bradshaw—a high-society young woman from New York, who is forced to move out to the untamed Front Range in Colorado and finds that true love can withstand all the dangers the West can throw at her.
Greeley, Colorado, in 1875 is a town built on a promise . . .
. . . but to Emma it is a desert prison in the middle of a hostile and dusty prairie. Emma had hoped to go to Vassar College, to pursue her dreams of becoming a botanical illustrator. But when her father, struck with “Western fever” moves the family out West, Emma’s dreams are shattered. Her only consolation is that her childhood friend, handsome Randall Turnbull, has moved to Greeley to work for his railroad baron father. Her heart sparked by his comforting presence, she hopes Randall will fall in love with her and marry her.
But promises often turn bitter . . .
. . . as Lucas Rawlings, veterinarian and horse lover, well knows. Lucas has lived on the Front Range for three years at Sarah Banks’s horse ranch, after stumbling down from the Rockies consumed with grief. Since losing his precious wife and baby in childbirth, he doesn’t think his heart can bear ever loving again. But Sarah, a half-Cheyenne with a medicine woman for a grandmother, has a vision showing it’s time Lucas married again. He scoffs until he rescues Emma in a sudden hailstorm and their lives become intricately entwined.
Emma must choose—and fight—for the man she loves, at the risk of all she loves . . .
Emma yearns for the comfort and familiarity of Randall’s company, but Lucas’s easy confidence and gentle ways snag her heart. Facing a new life beset by grasshoppers, drought, and blizzards is hard enough. But when murderous ranchers try to force Sarah off her land, and her brother takes up dangerous company, the lives of her family and the man she’s come to love are threatened. It will take a miracle—and the strength and promises of true love—to come through unscathed in this untamed land.
About the Author
Charlene Whitman spent many years living on Colorado’s Front Range. She grew up riding and raising horses, and loves to read, write, and hike the mountains. She attended Colorado State University in Fort Collins as an English major. She has two daughters and is married to George “Dix” Whitman, her love of thirty years. Colorado Promise is her first Historical Western Romance novel.
Books 2 and 3 in the Front Range series will be out sometime next year — Colorado Hope and Colorado Promise.
Check out Colorado Promise at Amazon.
If you’d like a print copy click here
You can find Charlene:
Colorado Promise is available here in all formats.
Thanks so much for visiting, Charlene!
If you have any questions or comments for Charlene please post them here and she’ll do her best to respond! The best comment or question will also win a copy of the novel!