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!

Happy Friday!
Molly xxx

A Time for Reflection



It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

I love Christmas for many reasons but I also get a bit reflective at this time of the year. It’s the fact that another year has passed and a new one is just around the corner. I’m often guilty of wishing for time to pass more quickly so that the holidays will come but I try to ground myself by enjoying each and every day and by trying to be proud of one thing I’ve accomplished – instead of being annoyed with myself for what I haven’t done. This isn’t easy because I’m my own harshest critic but it’s an attitude of gratitude and it’s one that I hope to carry into 2014.

2013 has been an amazing year. Although it has had some hardships, as every year does, 2013 was the year that I became a published author.

How amazing!!! *dances around the room*

Not only have I now had two novellas published, with a longer novel ready for edits for Totally Bound, but I’ve also a few other works in progress. I’ve just been told that the one, a modern romance, will be released in late January!

I am so excited about what 2014 will bring.

But I’m going to make the most of what’s left of this year first.

So, as we approach the end of 2013, I want to take this opportunity to say a big thank you to Totally Bound for publishing my debut novella. I also want to say a very special thank you to my editor there (you know who you are) for teaching me so much – especially that Track Changes tutorial which was priceless! Another big thank you goes out to Evernight Publishing for accepting and publishing my second novella last month. You are also wonderful and my editor there was also lovely. I have another editor to thank but I’m not sure if I can divulge which publisher it is yet. So I’ll keep that one a secret for now. Even though I’m itching to shout about it!!! Hee hee! x

*quivering lip* Now I’m getting all emotional!!!

*pulls self together*

I love Christmas and I know that I am very lucky to have a fabulous family around me to enjoy it with. Without them, it wouldn’t be wonderful. However, there are times when it can get a bit overwhelming and then I like nothing more than to pour a glass of wine and retreat from it all (for an hour or so) with a good book and Totally Bound and Evernight have LOTS of those.

What was 2013 like for you? What are you thankful for? What are your hopes for 2014? What do you do to relax over the holidays?

Look after yourselves as you rush about from day to day and remember to relax and recharge.

Molly xxx

P.S. An early gift:



Molly’s Mates – Barbara Elsborg – Perfect Trouble

©Depositphotos/ VG

©Depositphotos/ VG

Today I’m interviewing the wonderful Barbara Elsborg, a fellow Totally Bound author. Her book, Perfect Trouble is a MF paranormal and was released in mid November.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?
Perfect Trouble is a paranormal story about a female werewolf and a male faerie. I don’t stick just to paranormal, I swap and change between that and contemporary and also the mix of partners. So although Perfect Trouble is an MF, I also write MMF and MM. Depends what mood I’m in when I’m about to start a new book!

How did you come up with the title of your book or series?
I try to have a title in my mind before I start writing because it drives my plot but in this case, I had the character names in mind first. I liked the idea of linking a guy called Jonah with a girl called Jinx. How much trouble could they get into? That led to the thought of Perfect Trouble for the title! In fact, I’ll probably make this into a series involving the paranormal agency that Jonah works for.

What is your writing routine like?
I write almost every day from 8 to 4ish. I definitely am more productive in the morning than I am in the afternoon. I have a room I like to write in and stare at a blank wall – my distraction is the internet. When I get to the end of a section of writing, my break is to look my emails or go on Facebook or Google something. I find I’m very easily distracted. One check of a video on YouTube inevitably leads to me looking at a few more. Once I’ve finished for the day, I start the next day by going over what I wrote the day before. So I add layer upon layer rather than getting it all down and then going over it.

Are you a member of any writing organizations and, if so, have they helped?
I’m a member of Critique Circle, though no longer an active member. I found it a brilliant way to meet other authors who were trying to get published and those who were published. In return to critiquing stories by other members, they critiqued mine. I learned a lot from both activities. What worked as a start, what didn’t. How to show and not tell. What POV meant etc. I found beta readers and critique partners through Critique Circle and it’s a great resource for a new writer.

Will you share some encouraging words for authors still struggling for that first contract?
The obvious ones are – don’t give up! I had many years of rejection letters before I finally landed my first contract – and the acceptance went into my spam – so my other words of advice – check your spam!

Can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?
I used to sell cyanide for a living. My husband, who is not a hairdresser, is the only person I will let cut my hair. I was once kicked by a giraffe. I survived!

Wow! You let your husband cut your hair? Mind you, my husband colours mine but I don’t know if I’d let him loose with a scissors! 😉

What’s next for you?
I’m waiting to do edits on two novels, an MF contemporary romance and a MMF sci fi romance but in the meantime I’m writing a paranormal MM that’s a follow up on a character out of Jumping in Puddles, an MF paranormal. It’s set in Faerieland and the UK and is about a vampire tattoo artist and a secretive faerie.


Blurb for Perfect Trouble

Unwilling to forgo final respects even from a distance, Jinx sneaks to the funeral of a mother she hasn’t seen for fifteen years, and lands in the worst trouble of her life. The alpha of the Washburn Valley pack never stopped searching for her and now he has Jinx, he’s not going to let her go. She’s extraordinary breeding material—a super wolf in every way; fast, smart and an exceptional shifter—but she’d rather eat her own eyeballs than mate with him. She just needs to figure out a way to escape.

Jonah’s been in trouble all his life. The faery is currently under an indenture punishment for theft, but the idea of doing an extraction from the Washburn Valley pack fills him with dread. The wolves know his face, know he stole their gold and if they catch him, they’ll eat his guts, with or without ketchup. But saying no when he’s ordered north isn’t an option. His plan to get into the compound works, but that’s the only thing that does. He’s staked and wrapped in iron without even getting a glimpse of his target.

For a pair born to trouble, a shifter and a fairy could be perfect for each other, if only they survive long enough to do more than run.

Excerpt from Perfect Trouble

“ No.”
The moment the word lurched from Jonah’s mouth he knew he was in trouble. His boss, Tar, glared at him, his knuckles losing color as he tightened his grip on the folder in his hand.
“What did you say?” Tar growled.
“No,” Jonah repeated, hoping he sounded assertive and not in the slightest bit anxious.
He caught Kel’s warning look from the other side of the room and swallowed hard.
“I mean, I’d prefer not to,” Jonah said.
Kel rolled his eyes.
“You… I… How…” Tar spluttered until he found his voice. “I’m your boss. I tell you what to do and you do it. You can’t say no. You can’t say I prefer not to.”
I just did. Jonah leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the desk and clasped his hands behind his head, hoping to fool Tar with the casual pose. Probably a waste of time, but at least the guy couldn’t see his fingers shaking. Kel was mouthing at him not to be so stupid.
Tar spun round to glare at Kel who immediately blanked his face. Did the boss have eyes in the back of his head?
“Have I not made myself clear?” Tar turned forward and snarled. “There’s no choice involved. This…” He brandished the creased file—Christ, are those indentations from his fingers? “Has been assigned to you and you’re going do it.”
“No, I’m not.”
All chatter in the room stopped abruptly. Kel stared in open-mouthed shock. Jonah’s heart attempted to break out of his chest.
“What the hell do you mean?” Tar’s whisper was more menacing than his growl.
“I mean, I won’t. I refuse. I decline.” His heart gave up banging against his ribs and instead bounced on his stomach.
He could have gone for ‘please, I beg you, don’t make me go,’ but pleading was not the way to Tar’s shriveled black heart. But then, he suspected, neither was outright refusal. He might as well have just kept his mouth closed, but according to his mother, he’d never shut up since he’d been born. He might be good at talking himself out of trouble, but more often than not, that was after he’d talked himself into it in the first place.
His boss narrowed his eyes. “What’s your problem? You don’t even know what the job is. All I told you is where it is.”
Behind Tar’s back, Kel mouthed Moron. He didn’t mean Tar. I am a moron. Now Tar knew it was a problem with the location.
“I don’t fancy a trip north. I’ve plans in the south. Important plans.”
Tar strode the few feet to Jonah’s desk and towered over him like an enormous black bat. Actually, with his black shirt, black pants and black hair, he looked like a bat. That’s because he is—sort of. Jonah laughed and snapped it off fast when he caught Tar’s incredulous expression.
“You arrogant little shit.” Tar shook his head in disbelief. “Have you forgotten why you’re here? You seem to be under the misapprehension that you can decide which jobs you do. You’re indentured to me, and therefore to Paranormal Resolutions, for seven years and until that period is up, when I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed. Immediately and without question.”
To be fair, Jonah hadn’t actually asked a question, but for once, he kept a thought to himself.
“I’m incredibly busy.” He wasn’t, but he gestured at the towering piles of PR paperwork heaped on his desk. Not difficult to look snowed under when he never filed a thing nor threw anything away.
“This takes priority.” Tar shook the file. “It’s a simple extraction and it needs to be done fast. You sneak in, retrieve the target and sneak out. Your specialty. You’ve done it plenty of times before. What the hell’s the problem?”
The problem was that he couldn’t tell Tar what the problem was. Shit.
“Can’t someone else do this one? I’d really prefer not to.”
“I’ll do it,” Kel said.
“No you fucking won’t,” Tar snarled.
Too late to claim he was sick. But then, that wouldn’t work. He was never sick. Only the wolves ever came down with anything and they shook it off fast. Well, Kel piled it on just to get sympathy, and it was usually only a hangover.
Tar swept Jonah’s feet off the desk and the chair tipped over to deposit him on the floor amidst a pile of pizza boxes. Bang went his model-in-progress of a ziggurat.
“I don’t give a crap what you prefer. It’s your assignment. You’re going.” He dropped the folder on the desk. “Two days. And don’t fuck it up.”


Barbara Elsborg lives in West Yorkshire in the north of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having confessed to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her. Vulcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent several years successfully selling cyanide.
After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.
Her books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, and she hopes they are as much fun to read as they are to write.

How can my readers buy your book?

It’s available from and

You can find more information about Barbara Elsborg and her book, Perfect Trouble by visiting her website or her blog

She’s also on:

Thanks for visiting, Barbara!
Molly xxx

Book Release : Christopher’s Medal by S A Laybourn

Today I’m interviewing S A Laybourn to celebrate her new release! Her book, Christopher’s Medal is a contemporary romance and was released on 22 November.


Hey S A thanks for visiting!

Who is your intended audience and why should they read your book?
Anyone who loves a romance with angst, handsome Army officers and racehorses. As to why people should read my book – I’m a starving author out to earn a crust. No, really, if they want a behind the scenes glance at horseracing in Britain, this is a good place to start.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

I didn’t deliberately set out to put any messages across, but if the story makes readers more aware of the debilitating effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, then I’ll be happy.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?

This is a het romance, I usually write gay romance. I’d actually started writing het romances before I stumbled into the m/m genre.

How did you come up with the title of your book or series?

I belong to a writer’s forum called ‘Absolute Write’. I made some good friends on there and it was another member who suggested ‘Christopher’s Medal’. The original title was ‘A Poppy for Christopher’. ‘Christopher’s Medal’ actually gave me a little something to add to the plot.

When did you start writing toward publication?

I started writing back in 2009. I was living in Arizona at the time, it was a miserable hot July day and I wanted nothing more than to be back in England. Eva Cassidy’s version of ‘Fields of Gold’ came on the radio and I had an idea to write a romance set in England during the First World War. It failed dismally when it came to generating any interest from agents. Probably because they’d all fallen asleep three or four pages in. ‘Christopher’s Medal’ is that story, dragged into a contemporary setting.

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book or series.

There are quite a few glimpses into what it’s like to work in a British racing yard. I have my own in-house expert-my husband. Plus, I’d helped out in one of the yards we lived in, so I managed to pick up a little practical experience. The yard we lived in is the setting for ‘Christopher’s Medal’.

Why have you become a published author?

I have wanted to be a ‘proper’ author for ages. I just got lucky!

Do you have any rejection stories to share?

My first published novel ‘Stolen Summer’ was submitted to another e-pub. The editor asked for a revise and resubmit and gave me some excellent pointers on what I could do to make the story better. I revised it, submitted it and was rejected. It occurred to me that subbing a very British story to an US publisher was not the brightest of ideas. So I subbed it to Totally Bound and the rest, as they say, is history.

What is your writing routine like?

When I’m writing, I think about the story all the time, even when I’m not writing. I usually write in the evenings for three or four hours and all weekend. Unfortunately, I’m not in a writing frame of mind at the moment because of an illness in the family, but I’m beginning to get promising little twinges, which makes me think I may write again very soon.

What sort of promo do you do? Do you have help?

I’m very stiff upper lip and British and promotion worries me. I don’t want to be all in your face, but then again, I don’t want to do nothing. Instead, I rely on the kindness of friends who’ll let me muck up their blog for a day.

Are you a member of any writing organizations and, if so, have they helped?

No organisations. I can never afford the fees. I will say that if it wasn’t for ‘Absolute Write’, I probably wouldn’t be published.

Will you share some encouraging words for authors still struggling for that first contract?

Read, read, read. Write. And when you’re not writing, think about what you’re going to write. Make sure you have beta readers you can rely on, not friends who or family members. They won’t want to upset you and they’ll tell you everything is lovely, when it isn’t. Grow a thick skin. Not everyone will love your book as much as you do. Don’t take criticism personally, learn from it. Never, ever tell yourself that you know everything there is to know about writing. A good writer will always be learning, always evolving.

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block and if so, do you have any tips on how to overcome it?

Yes. I am not sure if it’s writer’s block as much as it is being easily distracted by the internet, or just being plain lazy. At the moment, it’s just an inability to write because there’s just too much uncertainty in my life.

Do you have a critique partner? Can you tell us a bit about them?

I have several beta readers who very kindly agree to read my stories. I love them all for their sharp eyes and their honesty and their insight.

Which famous person would you like to meet and why?

That’s a tough one. At the moment it would be Daniel Craig. But I can’t imagine that, if I met him, I’d do anything more than gawp at him.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Stay away from chocolate, don’t be so bloody desperate and gullible.

Who or what inspires you?

My family. They’re the centre of my world.

Now you’ve made me all emotional, S A!!! 🙂

Can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?

(1) I used to be a radio DJ;
(2) I am addicted to sherbet lemons
(3) I make really good machaca burritos (enchilada style).

What’s next for you?

A good night’s sleep!

Grace Webb trains racehorses for a living. It’s a career she’s happy to focus on when her fiancé, Christopher Beaumont, is deployed to Afghanistan. At a time when racing yards are losing horses because of the bad economy, a promising horse like Allonby could be the salvation of her father’s yard. Grace welcomes the chance to focus on Allonby in attempt to stop fretting about Christopher’s growing despondency and the frustration of lousy internet connections.
When Christopher comes home with horrific leg wounds and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Grace is determined to help him heal. While she fights Christopher’s nightmares, depression and rage, she also faces a battle to save Allonby’s career before it’s had a chance to blossom.
Christopher, feeling that he’s giving Grace more grief than love, leaves her. Grace couldn’t heal Christopher, but she can help Allonby and keep her father’s yard running. When Christopher returns, seeking forgiveness and a second chance, Grace gives him that chance. This time she won’t let Christopher surrender to his demons. On the eve of the biggest race of Allonby’s career, Grace faces down her worse nightmare – saving Christopher from himself.

Grace watched the horses file over the gravel toward the horse walk. There was still half an hour to kill before she needed to be on the other side of town to watch them work. She wondered what she was going to do with her guests. Her mother wouldn’t be ready for visitors, so a coffee or tea from her was out of the question until breakfast was ready.
The scent of manure wafted up from Grace’s shirt, reminding her that she ought to change into something clean. She needed caffeine and tried to remember if her cottage was tidy enough for guests. “It’ll be a while before they’ll get over to the Bury side. We might as well get a cuppa.”
She led them across the yard to her house, trying to remember if she’d left knickers drying on the radiator or unwashed dishes in the sink. Given that her supper the night before had been a bag of chips, she decided she was probably safe. The kitchen was too small for three people to be standing around waiting for a kettle to boil so she shooed them into the living room. She noticed that the General immediately sank down onto the settee and made himself comfortable, picking up a copy of Horse and Hound to read while Christopher wandered around the room, hands in pockets while he studied the photographs hanging on the walls.
Oh, Christ…not that one, shit.
Grace’s cheeks burnt when Christopher paused before a picture taken at her graduation party, the day she’d picked up her useless history degree. Knickers on the radiator would’ve been preferable to that photograph, the one where she was wearing an ex-boyfriend’s boxers and a T-shirt with the words ‘old slapper’ scrawled across the front. A paper cocktail umbrella was stuck in her hair…bloody hell. What was worse was that Christopher looked at it for an agonizingly long time, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
She served the coffee then disappeared into her bedroom to find a clean shirt—one that was neither smeared with horse shit nor emblazoned with a dubious slogan.

S A Laybourn lives in Wiltshire and loves it. She’s partial to gin and tonic, loves to cook and watches cookery programmes when she’s not working, writing or reading. She writes m/m erotic romance as S A Meade.


You can buy Christopher’s Medal at Totally Bound.

Check out S A Laybourn at:




Thanks for visiting, S A !

Molly xxx

M/M books by S A Meade:

untitled (8)

Stolen Summer

untitled (9)

Lord of Endersley

Blog Hop Interview – Tag You’re It!

Blog hop two

I was tagged for this blog post by the lovely and talented Claudia Burgoa.
Thanks Claudia!
Why not check out her blog and her latest release?

So here are my answers:

What are you working on right now?

I have a few works in progress. I’ve just completed an erotic novella set in the historical Wild West (on a steam train, no less) and I’ve nearly finished the first draft of a modern romance featuring a French rugby player and a Welsh celebrity agent.

How does it differ from other works in its genre?

Umm, well, the historical novella is set during a train journey – so I guess that’s a bit different to some other Westerns and the modern romance is set in the heart of Wales. I’m not sure that many romance novels are actually set in Cardiff. The modern romance will be submitted under a different pen name. Watch this space! 😉

Why do you write what you do?

I LOVE writing! It’s what makes me smile – other than my husband and children. I’m so happy when I can plot and type and let my imagination run wild. I adore historical novels and romances and therefore, setting my own novels in historical settings makes sense. The modern romance is in response to a new line with one particular publisher. I just have to hope that they love it!

How does your writing process work?

Wherever… whenever! I make notes on my IPhone and in my little notebook all the time. I scribble on bits of paper and stuff them in my bag. I’m always plotting and creating and asking ‘What if…’ Plus my characters follow me around all day – and sometimes interrupt my sleep – asking me to write their stories. How could I possibly refuse?

I would now like to tag the following authors:

Tag you're it

Ana Blaze

Celeste Rupert

Sotia Lazu

Molly xxx


©Depositphotos/ VG

©Depositphotos/ VG

Today I’d like to welcome fellow Total-E-Bound author Celeste Rupert to my blog.

Her book, Holding Court is a Western Erotic Romance and was released on September 6, 2013.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?
I only write Western Erotic Romance (as Celeste Rupert) – Holding Court definitely leans more towards BDSM than my other books, but it’s also more romantic. It’s both the kinkiest and the sappiest story I’ve written so far.

How did you come up with the title of your book or series?
Titles are always a challenge for me, but this one was easy. The hero’s name is Courtland … Holding Court was perfect!

When did you start writing toward publication?
I started writing fiction in 2009 while I was recovering from surgery and going stir crazy staying in the house for so long. I started writing erotic romance on a dare a couple years later.

What is your writing routine like?
I would love to say I write every day, but even when that’s the goal I don’t very often accomplish it. But when I get started drafting a story, I like to do nothing but write. Shame about life getting in the way!

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block and if so, do you have any tips on how to overcome it?
I don’t have writer’s block so much as writer’s distraction. Is that a thing? If I can focus, then I can write. It’s the focus thing that’s a challenge for me.

Thanks for answering the questions, Celeste!

Now, can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?

I never wear matching socks, I’m deathly afraid of butterflies and I have a pet chicken named Tyson.

Lol! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone afraid of butterflies before and I’ve always wanted to have chickens!

So what’s next for you?

I’m working on a series called Outlaw Women. The first book is titled The Undercover Outlaw, and features a safecracker who disguises her gender in order to get revenge on an old lover. I’m so excited about these stories, can’t wait to share them!

I can’t wait to read them and I bet that my readers feel the same way!

The cover for Holding Court is absolutely gorgeous!


BOOK BLURB – Holding Court
Schoolteacher Clara lives a peaceful, solitary life when she’s away from the school house. That is, other than the nights when rich, powerful landowner Courtland Raymond comes to call.
Court makes her feel things she’d never before dreamed of. He’s forceful and dominant, and he always knows just what she needs. Their secret arrangement allows them to enjoy each other without the disapproval of the community they both rely on for their livelihood.
Clara loves Court, and she’d do nearly anything to be with him forever, a real relationship, but she’s not willing to risk their stolen moments. But when their secret trysts are exposed, will she be able to hold on to Court? Or lose him forever?

A blast of cold air woke her, and Clara snuggled deeper beneath the blankets until she realised what the cold air meant.
She flung the blankets back and sat up—he was here. He stood just inside the door, big and broad, with his hat in his hands. In the dark, she couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his eyes on her. She stared for a moment, so glad he was finally really there, with her. Then, she launched herself out of bed and across the room.
He met her halfway and she leapt into his arms, her arms around his neck as he bent to take her lips. Clara drank in his kiss, parched for the taste of him after all the time they’d been apart. His mouth was rough on hers, the stubble of his beard scraped her face and all the while his arms, like two solid bands of steel, crushed her closer to him. His woolly coat was covered with snow and Clara shivered as it melted into her robe. Court broke the kiss and brought his hand up to her face. He looked down at her, stroking his thumb slowly over her cheekbone.
“Clara,” he said, his voice husky and low. Then he kissed her again, more slowly, cupping the back of her head with one hand, while sliding the other down the silky rope to pull her closer. Abruptly, he stopped and pulled back. He frowned at her. “What are you wearing?”
Clara put on what she hoped was an innocent look. “The dressing gown you gave me.” She looked down at herself. The silk was damp, darkened in big patches where the melted snow had soaked through to her skin. She shivered again, aware that her nipples showed through the thin fabric.
“Did you read my letter?” His voice sounded loud in the silence of the room.
“Yes.” Clara let her voice falter, as though she’d forgotten the instructions.
“Then you’ll have to be punished.”
Clara shivered again, this time nothing to do with the cold, as a thrill of anticipation went through her. She thought she saw a glimpse of white teeth as he smiled, but it was gone in an instant, his face serious and shadowed once again.
“Take it off,” he said. “I rode all this way, and I’m cold and tired and I didn’t come to see you all covered up.”
Clara fumbled with the knot, and took a deep breath to steady her hands. The belt untied, she let the slippery fabric slide off her shoulders and down to the floor. She heard his intake of breath, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, and she waited, her breath coming short as he looked at her.
When he finally did speak, his voice was raspy. “You should always be naked.”
“So should you.” Clara moved towards him, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“I’ve had a long cold ride, and the first thing I need is a hot bath.” Court took the few steps to sink into the wooden, high backed chair. “Would you mind?”
Clara set herself to the task of heating water and refilling the large copper tub, all the time aware that he was watching her, his eyes following her back and forth as she worked. She felt her face heat as she thought about how she was on display—every curve—then she thought about him touching those curves and other portions of her anatomy heated as well.
Finally, the tub was full, the steam from the surface filling the dimly lit room. Clara went and stood before him, wishing he’d touch her. Court stood, so close to her that Clara could feel the soft wool of his coat against her breasts.
“Undress me.”

WOW! What a sexy excerpt, Celeste! I definitely want to read more! 😉

Celeste Rupert lives and writes in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Her fascination with the Old West results in stories set in the rough and tumble world of the frontier, full of cowboys and outlaws and women who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to go get it.

How can my readers buy your book?
Readers can go to the publisher’s home page at Total-E-Bound Erotic Romance Ebooks or buy on Amazon.

You can find more information about Celeste Rupert and her book, Holding Court by visiting her blog , Twitter @CelesteRupert and Goodreads.

Why not check out Celeste’s books and let her know what you think!

Thank you so much for joining me Celeste!
Molly xxx

Naughty No-No’s Blog Hop

Naughty no-no's

I’m very excited to be part of this blog hop! What a great way to see in the autumn. I love all things erotic and if you follow this blog hop you’ll come across some GREAT erotic romance authors. Check them out here.

I thought I’d treat you today with a sexy excerpt from my debut novella Desire in Deadwood.

If you’d like to be in with a chance of winning a copy, please post a comment at the bottom of the page.Desire in Deadwood has already had several five star reviews and one four star review from Scorching Reviews.


Outside the Gem, she looked around quickly then hurried through the swing doors and into the bar. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale sweat and alcohol. A quick scan from under the shawl showed her that it was still quiet so she darted through the bar and headed for the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Once at the top, Evelyn rushed across the wide landing, which looked down onto the open space of the bar, then paused outside the small room. What would happen today? Would she have to stand before him again, scandalously naked whilst he pleasured himself? Would he force himself upon her and expect her to make love to him with their former passion? If he did, would she be able to feign indifference, to force herself to find no pleasure in their coupling? The thought both terrified and aroused her.

©Depositphotos/ Id1974

©Depositphotos/ Id1974

She knocked then entered immediately and let the shawl slip from her head, her stomach clenching at the thought of seeing him again. But he wasn’t alone. He sat on the chaise longue again with his feet planted squarely on the ground in front of him, but next to him, caressing his muscular thigh possessively, was a young woman.

“Oh.” Evelyn settled the shawl upon her shoulders and self-consciously patted her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you had company. Shall I go?”

She turned and was about to step out into the corridor when she felt a hand upon her shoulder. She turned, expecting to look up into Nate’s eyes but instead she looked into the laughing green eyes of a whore.

“Don’t go sweety! We was jus’ waitin’ for ya, see!” the girl wheedled, running a finger up and down Evelyn’s cheek. She shrugged it away, causing the girl to cackle and perform an elaborate curtsey before her.

“What is this, Mr Hamilton? You made no mention of this!” Evelyn lifted her chin and scowled at him. “If I may correct you, my dear Mrs Campbell”—he leant forward resting his arms upon his legs—“I made no specification of details. I merely told you that I was aware of your situation and offered you a way to earn some money. You seemed keen enough.” He shrugged. “You didn’t ask for particulars.”

Evelyn blinked hard as she glared at him. She could not argue with the truth. His offer had been most generous and she really hadn’t any alternative. She’d even reasoned that it would be better to be with Nate, with a man she had loved and been intimate with. Better that than sell herself to a rotten toothed miner who’d paw at her body and rob her of her self- respect. At least that was what she’d thought. But here was Nate, stealing that same self- respect away from her, intent upon humiliating her for his own pleasure. Well she would not let him see how hurt she was. Clearly the man she had known and loved was gone, his love and compassion evaporated by the harsh sunlight like the morning dew on the arid landscape. She slammed the door. There was no going back.

©Depositphotos/ eaniton

©Depositphotos/ eaniton

“So what do you want me to do?” She threw her shawl away from her and unbuttoned her jacket then flung it after the shawl. Nate stared at her, eyebrows raised. The soiled dove gave a harsh laugh then returned to her position at Nate’s side and snuggled into him, entwining a shapely leg around his. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, staring all the while at Evelyn’s face.

So he was playing games. Did he want to get revenge by hurting her?

She pushed down her skirt and kicked it away then she let down her hair. Nate eyed her with the hunger of a starving man, from her cotton bloomers to the flimsy chemise above her corset. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze but she flicked her hair over her shoulders and pushed her chest out. She would show him all that she was—all that she had to give. She would not shy away from his lust. There’d been a time, during their youth, when she’d been apprehensive about undressing in front of him but with his love and tenderness she’d soon been reassured and had even become quite brazen with him. But she’d been so sure of him then, so convinced that he loved her and would never hurt her. This was different.

She was dragged roughly back to the present as the harlot moaned and she watched in horror as Nate allowed the whore to slide his hand into the top of her chemise, whilst she pulled his other hand up to her face and began to suck on his fingers.

Stood in the middle of the room in her underwear and boots, watching the man she had loved being touched and kissed by another woman, Evelyn was consumed with hurt and jealousy. It made her heart pound, and anger burned hot in her belly.

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

“Mrs Campbell,” his voice was almost a whisper, “come over here.”

Not knowing what else she could do, though she longed to turn and run from the room, Evelyn obeyed. Nate reached out to her and pulled her down onto his knee, wrapping his arm around her waist. The whore moved her leg away but kept Nate’s hand upon her breast. Evelyn fought the urge to jump up and flee when the whore threw her head back and reached down to her crotch where she rubbed against the thin cloth of her bloomers, arching her hips up towards her own touch.

“Do you like this, Evelyn?” Nate’s voice was husky. She didn’t trust herself to answer. The whore increased her pace upon herself and began gyrating in ecstasy. Evelyn watched Nate as he eyed the girl. A sigh escaped his lips when the girl reached under her bloomers and continued rubbing at her pussy, faster and faster until she shuddered suddenly and violently, then opened her feline eyes to smile at her audience.

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

Evelyn stared at the girl in shock. How could she be so wanton? The whore seemed to read Evelyn’s mind and she pushed her chemise down to expose small pert breasts then flung her head back as Nate squeezed at a rosy nipple. Her bloomers clung to her damp groin, evidence of her recent climax, and Evelyn’s eyes were glued to the outline of the soiled dove’s sex. Though her mouth was dry and her palms clammy, Evelyn had to admit that she was aroused. But the conflicting emotions threatened to burst out of her in a flurry of tears and violence. She wanted to scratch at her rival for stealing away Nate’s attention yet she knew that it was not the girl’s fault. She, like Evelyn, was doing what she was paid to do. She would not allow Nate to see her jealousy, her pain.

Leaning in towards him she pressed her lips against his jaw. His scent was so familiar and so good that tears sprang into her eyes and her desire for him twitched deep within her. She had loved this man with every fibre of her being, yet she had married another and she wondered now at how much her actions had hurt him. If he had only sent word to her, reassured her of his health, success and imminent return, she would have held on…but she’d had too much to lose. She’d been forced to make a choice under duress and the offer had been open only for a very limited time. What else could she have done?

A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she sought out his lips, but he turned his face away from her and her lips landed instead upon his dark hair.

“No, Mrs Campbell, I will not kiss you. The time for such tenderness is long gone.”

He pulled his arm away from the whore and Evelyn jumped in shock as he squeezed her full breast hard then ripped her chemise down and found the erect nub, tweaking it roughly as he had the whore’s. He rolled his thumb and forefinger over the hard nub and rubbed at the surrounding pale pink circle and the action caused an exquisite flicker deep inside her as if her breasts and cunny were linked. He tugged at her erect nipple and pinched it but the pain was delicious as it fired her longing for him, reigniting a side of her that she had hidden for a decade.
It had been so long.

A groan escaped her and it seemed to spur him on, the rolling and rubbing grew harder and she fought the urge to beg him to move his hand between her legs to offer her the sweet release that he was so capable of doing. Her pussy throbbed, the silken folds moist with desire. She knew that she should push his hand away, pull away from him and run from the room—she was a respectable woman, a mother and a widow—but she knew that she would not, for though his touch was rougher, his eyes harder, her yearning for him pulsed through her even more powerfully than before.


So did you enjoy the excerpt? Tell me what you think by 29th September and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the novella.

Molly xxx