Author, author...

...read all about it !!

Today we have a spotlight on...

Ride a Cowboy; Save a Horse

by

Honey Jans

 

Savanna Brown returns to Wyoming to save the reputation of the cowboy she ran away from on their wedding night. She makes the ranch owner an offer he can’t refuse if he wants to hang onto his ranch. She’ll pretend to come back to him until the talk dies down, then she’ll be on her way. Rafe Halliday is thrilled that his plan to lure his bride back to his place has worked. Now all he has to do is focus on getting sexy Savanna back into his bed where he figured their links of passion, love, and sex will complete their bond. But will love happen with evil forces trying to tear them apart? To find out lasso a copy of, “Save a Horse; Ride a Cowboy,” today. It’s sure to singe your lariat.

Excerpt:

“You’re going to do what?”

                 Savanna Brown gazed at the mutinous expression on her cousin’s pretty mahogany face, willing her to understand. “Rafe's reputation is in shreds since I left. I need, deep in my soul, to set things right. Please try to understand, Raven, I have to go back.”

                “Back into the lion's den.” Raven shook her head her dark curls shaking as she closed the door of her at her law office. “Listen to me, cuz. You'll be going on a fool's errand. You don't think the man will actually take you back with open arms after you deserted him on your wedding night three weeks ago do you?”

                “Rafe's housekeeper is going on a long deserved vacation. I'm all set to fill in for her at the ranch.”

                “So she's the one who's been feeding you all these gloom and doom stories about him.” Raven scowled. “It could be a set up you know.”

                “No, Rafe's not that devious.” Savanna added sadly, “He can't even tell a decent white lie. That's how I found out that he doesn't really love me. He only married me because of my family connections.”

                Raven shook her head. “You, a housekeeper? I can't picture it.”

                Savanna shrugged. “How hard can it be? You mop a few floors, open a few cans. I should even have enough spare time to finish the series of endangered species photos I was working on. It's the best work I've ever done and my editor said it could lead to some prestigious work.”

                “That's just an excuse, Savanna, and you know it. You aren't responsible for ruining the cowboy any more than your mother was responsible for ruining your father. That was all our grumpy old grandfather's imagination. You can't fix the past by doing this.”

                “That's not why.” Savanna noted Raven’s disbelief and sighed. “Maybe that's part of it, but the plain truth is I love the hardheaded, stubborn cowboy and I can't see his life ruined.”

                “Somebody’s sure in an all fired hurry, boss.”

                Rafe leaned forward in his rocker. His fatigue after a long dusty day on the range melted as he watched the silver Jeep Cherokee kick up a plume of dust in its wake. It sped toward them down the long ranch driveway. “It's the wife.”

                “Wife.” Zeke Taylor, his ranch foreman, made the word sound like a curse. “I can't believe she has the guts to show her face around here after hightailing it on your wedding night.”

                Rafe noted the sour expression on Zeke's wizened face, but ignored it. This wasn't up for debate. “I want you to spread the word. She's to be treated with respect.”

                “I don't get it. The woman runs roughshod over you and you're going to lay out the red carpet for her.”

                “Don't worry about it, Zeke.” Rafe smiled, adding confidently, “I've got everything under control this time around.”

                “What you plannin' to do, sweet talk her into sticking around this time?” Zeke scowled and spat on the ground.

                Rafe shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No, it'll take more than sweet talk to bind a fierce saddle shy filly like Savanna to my side. Don't you worry, I've got her figured out and before she knows it I'll have her tied to my side.”

                Zeke slowly got up from the creaky rocker, slapping his battered Stetson against his leg. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.”

                “So do I,” Rafe said softly as he watched Zeke stomp toward the bunk house. He had to make this work. His future depended on it.

                The Jeep came to a halt amid a cloud of dust. The inevitability of the moment hit him hard. He never doubted that one day Savanna would return, and when she did he would be the one in control. But first, he planned to extract a little payback before they settled down to domestic bliss. Savanna got out of the jeep and Rafe swallowed the lump in his throat. Dying embers of the sun caught the red highlights in her tawny dark hair turning it to molten fire and made her mocha skin look like the finest silk.

                As she walked toward him, Rafe admired her ethnic beauty anew struck by the confident way she moved. That was what had attracted him in the first place six short weeks ago when she'd come to the area to shoot a series on the Grand Teton wildlife.

                Rafe noted the proud angle of her chin and the keen intelligence in her sparkling golden eyes, passed down from her gypsy mother he’d heard her say. Dealing with her was going to be a challenge. And oh, how he loved challenges. The first moment they met, he'd known he had to have her and he almost had until she ran off on their wedding night. Three weeks later he still wasn't sure what spooked her, but he knew the best way to treat a spooked filly was put blinders on her. Instead, Rafe put up a blinder of a small white lie. Sure it was true that there'd been unmerciful gossip, but he could take it. And yes, his expansion loan had been turned down but there were ways to keep from selling up.

 

Amazon   &   Red Rose Publishing

 

About the Author:

Honey Jans lives in a small Midwestern town with her husband and true inspiration. She is a born romantic with an extraordinarily vivid, yet kinky, imagination. Honey loves writing erotica and hopes that her stories add a little spice to her readers lives.

Website / Blog

Author, author...

...read all about it !

Today we have a spotlight on Honey Jans and her release...

 

 

 

 

Goldie and the Three Bears

 

In this trio of sizzling Torrid Twisted Tales Honey Jans turns the traditional fairy tales on their ears. Take a little time to find out if Red Riding Hood can handle the big bad wolf, Cindy can captivate her prince charming, and what Goldie does with her Three Bears?

 

 

Excerpt:

                Her lips tingled as he gazed masterfully down at her in the moonlight and her nipples budded in the cool night air. She instinctively leaned toward him, creaming, as a sexual energy field snapped between them.

                “Who do you belong to, bad girl?” he asked, a sardonic smile curving his handsome face.

                “You,” she cried out as he slid a hand down the front of her naked body, slowly over her breasts, grazing her nipples until she sucked in a tremulous breath, and his hand slid lower to boldly cup her weeping sex. Everything inside her tightened as he held her in his big, work-roughened, warm hand. She was unable to deny him anything and in exchange he gave her everything. He expertly squeezed her mound, rubbing her clit as he did, and she came with a cry as he held her safe…

                Squeak…

                Honey Lockwood woke with a snort, sleepily discombobulated but knowing instantly she wasn’t alone. Chills went through her as she lifted her head off the overheated laptop keyboard and peered through the golden fringe of her curls that had saddled her with the nickname Goldilocks. The dark recesses of her grandsire’s lakeside lair were full of harmless shadows. So why was she shivering? And what had made that noise? It couldn’t be the one of the Sundowners—roving bands of Werebear males in search of mates. Besides she was immune from the virgin hunt, being a dud DNA wise. Never had she been so happy to be a throwback to the mundane part of her family.

                The mating season only served to reinforce her decision to start her own business, leave the clan, and make her life in the human world. If she never saw a macho Werebear again it would suit her just fine. She’d realized how out of her depth she was when she’d caught her sometime beau Geoff on his knees pleasuring her Werebear fem cousin, Joelle. The humiliation was enough to make her break away. She’d known then and there that she had to get out. Of course, if she’d been a true blood, she might have found out what it was like to get properly laid.

                Instead of being in on the mate hunt, she’d come to this remote cabin alone to regroup before heading off to Chicago and her new life next week. Here she could work on her business plan in private. She’d always had an affinity for numbers, something she and Geoff had once had in common before the mating fever had hit him and he’d lost all sense of reality. Heck, she hadn’t even told her family where she was going, not that they cared. She’d fobbed Grandsire off with an explanation that she was off on a singles cruise with her mortal friend, Darla, and he’d been visibly relieved that she was out of the picture. His reaction more than anything emphasized that she had to go back to real life and forget about her clan.

                Squeak…

                A loose floorboard squeaked in the kitchen again, bringing her wandering thoughts back to danger in a nanosecond. Chills ran up her spine as a sensation of a dark murky aura sent out tentacles toward her and with it came a gasp worthy top note of musky cologne. Damn, the thug had to have bathed in it. Eyes watering she knew that trouble was on the move, toward her. Her growing ability to read auras, a real non talent in the Wereworld, was getting stronger. But she rejected the notion that she was cracking up, as Joelle had claimed.

                She was as sane as anyone else and she knew she had to move. Unfortunately her purse, containing her mace, cell phone, and car keys, was in the kitchen where he was. She didn’t know how she was certain her nemesis was a he. But considering her luck with men, it had to be some male mortal thug out to do her harm. Probably some mundane out to rob the place although there wasn’t much to steal. A blast of crisp night air against her back made her shiver and reminded her that she’d left the patio door open in a last ditch effort to air out the musty fishing shack. If she could quietly make it out the door, she’d stand a chance.

 

                Holding her breath, she eased out of her chair and tugged open the patio door’s screen, wincing when it squeaked. Damn, if she lived through this night she was coming back with a big oil can and oiling the shit out of these hinges. Something crashed in the vicinity of the kitchen and her heart leapt to her throat. Time to get the hell out.

                With a gasp she ran for the safety of the dark woods. It had to be well after midnight and not a creature was stirring, except her. Her crunching footsteps sounded thunderous as she made it to the tree line. She sagged against a tree breathless as the darkness cloaked her. At least whoever had broken into the shack wasn’t chasing her. Standing there shaking and feeling like an idiot she wondered if she’d dreamt it after all. No tentacles of evil chased her, not even a mouse sneezed. Maybe her vivid imagination had been working overtime after all. She had been feeling strange lately as her thirtieth birthday approached.

                She turned to peer back at the cabin. All the lights were still blazing and just the sight of the light calmed her fears. Given her fear of the dark, she’d brought plenty of nightlights. Everything seemed peaceful. Her belongings, including her brand new laptop were inside. Could she just abandon them because of a bad dream?

                A shot rang out smacking into the tree above her head, splintering the wood. She dropped like a rock, biting back a scream, her arm burning like fire. Oh my heavens, I didn’t imagine it! Then the cabin lights were doused all at once and she knew she was in trouble deep. Fear made her scramble to her feet and run deep into the pitch-dark woods as the overpowering stench of musk pursued her.

                Half an hour later she crested a rise and saw a big lakeside cabin, its light ablaze in the valley below. Lights! Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. Never had a sight seemed more welcoming. She raced toward the house, tripped, tearing the strap on one of her sandals, and hobbled up onto the porch. Breathless, she looked for a doorbell. Not seeing one, she banged on the solid wood door then reached for the doorknob. The minute she touched it her palm tingled and she distinctly heard the lock open before it swung open on well-oiled hinges.

                Startled, she stood there rubbing her heated palm for a moment as she looked inside the seemingly empty house. Then a rainbow of pleasant auras seemed to bid her into the house. Stunned by her good fortune, she rushed into the house and slammed the door behind her, sagging back against it trembling. As she stood there glancing around the well-appointed but seemingly vacant lodge, a strange feeling of lethargy came over her. The strange auras rubbed against her skin making her tingle. Damn, maybe this was a delayed reaction to shock. She absolutely refused to feel auras on top of seeing them. She couldn’t deny the feeling of coming home, but this place was posh compared to her grandsire’s rustic compound that she’d grown up on.

                As she’d noted from outside, all the lights were on. A fire blazed in the fireplace and something savory simmered in the vicinity of the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled in response, as she hadn’t eaten since morning. Nobody seemed to be home. As a matter of fact the place had a vacant feel, as if it were waiting for its occupants. She rolled her eyes at her vivid imagination and ventured into the empty room looking for a phone.

 

                “ Hello,” she called out, hearing her tense voice echo through the empty lodge.

                Suck it up, Goldilocks, nobody’s home so you’ll just have to save yourself. She took a step forward and damned near broke her neck when she tripped over her broken sandal again. With a growl she kicked off the damned things. Then she walked into the living room looking in vain for a phone. Almost out on her feet, she plopped wearily into a huge leather wing chair by the fireplace, smirking when her feet didn’t touch the floor. The story of The Three Bears came to mind. This had to be papa bear’s chair. The only other furniture in the room were two more leather recliners just as deep, confirming her guess that this was a man cave. Maybe the boys had gone out on a beer run. Some help they’d be.

                Fighting her urge to just cuddle up in the chair and go to sleep, she surged to her feet. She had to find a phone…save herself…and get some crazy housebreaker busted. She followed her nose and the delicious smells toward the kitchen. Seemed like a logical place for a phone and she was hungry.

                She stopped at the doorway. No phone, but a crock pot on the counter simmered away with what smelled like chili drawing her toward it. Her stomach grumbled again forcefully reminding her that she’d missed dinner. Her mouth watering, she gazed at the three bowls set out next to the crock pot. Shades of The Three Bears again, making her grin. Well, the other Goldilocks had helped herself to some porridge, maybe it was a sign that she should too.

                Before she could censor herself she ladled herself a portion of the chili and sat down at the kitchen nook before she fell down. She needed to eat and she’d pay for the chili when she got her purse back. She took a bite of the spicy concoction, blowing on it when it was too hot, stirring it till it cooled down, and then greedily eating it all when it was just right.

                Sitting back, replete, she looked down at her messy clothes and winced. Yikes! She was covered in dirt and leaves from her flight through the woods and tumble down the hill. And there were a few telltale drops of chili on her white blouse. The boys would probably think she was crazy looking this way. Hell, she’d be lucky not to get shot at again. She needed to clean up fast.

                She stood up on wobbly legs and started down the hall in search of either a bathroom or a phone whichever came first. Her footsteps faltered when she glanced into the messy den. Up till now everything in this place had been neat as a pin. She smiled when she saw the papers strewn on the oak desktop and tumbling onto the floor. This looked like her office after she’d been on one of her creative streaks.

                Then the sound of swirling water caught her attention. Could it possibly be a hot tub? Just the thought made her yearn for warmth. She padded down the hall toward the sound and stepped out into what she could only call a spa. There was a deep Jacuzzi tub and even a sauna. Now this was roughing it in the woods. She gazed longingly at the tub. It was almost calling her name. Should she? A bottle of jasmine bath oil sat on the edge of the tub. Maybe one of the boys had a lover. She didn’t know why that thought bothered her more than the prospect of stealing someone’s bath. Pushing back those thoughts she poured in the bath oil, stripped, and got in. Sinking down in the water she eased back and closed her eyes with a groan as all her sore muscles tightened a moment before going loose. Drifting away, she sank down in the water, pressure melting away. A few minutes later she woke up in a hurry, coming up sputtering. Damn, she was dead on her feet.

                With a wince, she pulled herself out of the tub, her cuts stinging anew. She toweled off and glanced at her trashed clothes, her nose wrinkling. For nothing on earth would she put them back on until she sponged them clean, but she was too tired. Instead she reached for the white terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door. It was miles too big for her but it was warm and enveloping and she snuggled into it like a security blanket. It smelled of sandalwood and man, obviously a big man, one who could protect her. If only!

                Half-asleep, she staggered out of the steamy bathroom into the frigid hallway and shivered, her teeth chattering. Well, hell, she was really out on her feet, maybe in shock. She had to get warm, fast. She headed toward the bedrooms like a guided missile. She’d have a little lie down to regain her equilibrium.

Buy link:

 

Amazon :  http://www.amazon.com/Goldie-The-Three-Bears-ebook/dp/B0055LHG5G/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1346258235&sr=8-2&keywords=goldie+and+the+three+bears

 

 

 

About the Author:

Honey Jans lives in a small Midwestern town with her husband and true inspiration. She is a born romantic with an extraordinarily vivid, yet kinky, imagination. Honey loves writing erotica and hopes that her stories add a little spice to her readers lives.

Website / Blog

Author, author...

...read all about it !!

Our spotlight today is ....

Blue Moon Magic

Honey Jans

One Father.  Two Mothers.  Four siblings.  One incredible night that will change them all forever.

Excerpt:

Charity rushed back to her office in the IT department, cheeks flaming. At least one of the Langford sisters was getting laid on a regular basis. But really, catching Chas and Justin making love in the executive washroom was just plain embarrassing. Even worse, it brought home to her the sex she wasn’t having. Now she was the one taking pains to keep her fantasy life private.

                Passing her staff, she avoided eye contact only to come upon the immovable object of her guard dog, Lucas Kendal. The PI sat at a desk across from her office where he could keep an eye on her. The work she’d assigned him as a cover sat ignored. Instead, he read an issue of Sports Illustrated; no doubt the swimsuit issue. It was a wonder he hadn’t followed her into the ladies room.

                The man practically oozed sex appeal. Her lips tingled as she stared at him. What might he taste like? She’d love to find out; maybe nibble his square jaw, and dip her tongue into that cute cleft in his chin. “Down, girl,” she muttered in self-recrimination. He’s hired to look after you, not teach you the joys of sex at your old maid age of thirty-two. Just then, he looked up, snagging her gaze, his quirked brow telling her he’d guessed her thoughts.

                Cheeks flaming anew, she quickly shut the door and locked it. Thank goodness, she had her mystery Laird to dim the flames. This sexual itch, combined with the series of hacking attacks she’d thwarted, threatened to drive her crazy. Ending the barrage of attacks with her fireball program had made enemies. The pissed off hackers sent death threats, prompting her father to hire Kendal, who made her want to knock him to the floor and do him. It was a vicious cycle, one she couldn’t break.

                Throwing off those troubling thoughts, she peeled off the jacket of her business suit, loving the way her silk blouse felt against her bare skin, and rushed over to her computer, late for a date with her cyber Master. She had two hours until she had to leave for her staff’s annual weekend getaway to the IT conference. A weekend far away from her annoying babysitter would be wonderful. Maybe she could hook up with a charming stranger in Las Vegas, sow a few wild oats, and get this desire for sex out of her system.

                She slipped into her desk chair and reached for the keyboard. Her excitement building, she logged on to the online sex site she’d discovered last week and looked for his screen name. Yes! He was there. Wolf. A thrill went through her. She logged on as Honey and put on her headset, saying softly, “I’m here, my Laird.”

                “Follow me to our private room.”

                She shivered, hearing his sexy rumble; a thick brogue that rushed over her like warm honey, making her cream as she imagined what was coming. Sex with a guy wearing a kilt -- now, that had kinky possibilities. With guilty pleasure, she murmured, “Yes, my Laird.” She could surrender to her online master, get off, and still maintain an illusion of icy reserve.

                “How many times did you touch yourself today, Honey?”

                His demand to know how many times she’d played with herself made her hesitate. Hell, the man wouldn’t know one way or another if she told the truth or a lie. After a tense moment, she let out a sigh of surrender. Here comes the Langford upbringing again…finish what you start and never lie to anyone about anything. Blushing, she confessed, “Six, my Laird.” His chuckle made her squirm in her chair; she was going to get punished. Good. She thought about the vibrator in her desk drawer; maybe he’d make her come three times in a row like last time.

                “What a naughty girl not to wait for Master’s permission.”

                His scolding echoed her thoughts. Why couldn’t she control herself? “I’m sorry, Sir.” She shivered with delight, getting into the secret fantasy.

                “Did you obey my instructions, Honey?”

                She brushed her bare breasts through her silk blouse, loving the free, sensual feeling of forgoing her usual bra and panties. “Yes, Laird, I’m not wearing underwear.”

                He took in a deep breath. “Good girl. Unbutton your blouse for me and play with your pretty tits.”

                “Yes, my Laird.” Her hands quickly flew to do his bidding, slipping the ivory buttons out of their buttonholes until her blouse hung open. The air conditioning wafted a cool breeze over her budding nipples. With a sigh of pleasure, she cupped her full breasts and fanned her fingertips over the puckered nipples, murmuring at the pleasure. “I’m playing with them, Laird.”

                “Excellent. Imagine it’s my big hands touching them, getting your nipples hard.”

                Closing her eyes, she pictured her mystery Laird, imagining her soft hands becoming his larger, harder ones, his rough fingertips rolling her stiff nipples. “My nipples are so very hard for you, Laird.”

                “Now pinch them for me, Honey, a small punishment for being late.”

                She pinched them firmly, whimpering at the erotic feeling.

                “Good girl, now spread your legs and touch your pussy. Let me know if it’s wet for me.”

                She leaned back in her big desk chair and spread her legs, her hand reaching under her skirt to touch her hot pussy. Her clit was stiff, her pussy quivering, and wet. She rubbed it, moaning. “I’m wet, Sir.”

                “Good. Play with that bad pussy; make it nice and creamy for me, but don’t come.”

                She stroked her wet slit, her thumb rubbing her stiff clit. She couldn’t hold back a moan as she got nearer to orgasm.

                “Imagine it’s my hand touching you, my fingers slipping inside you, getting you ready to be loved.”

                “Yes, my Laird. I’m imagining it’s you. When can we meet for real?” she asked, desperate for a taste of the real thing.

                “When I think you’re ready, Honey, and not before.”

She groaned at his rejection, but it didn’t stop her hot response to his commands, or her growing need for him.

                “Do you like the way it feels when my fingers slip inside you?”

                She panted, her pussy clenching on her fingers as he spoke. “Oh yes, Laird, very much.”

                “Now stop.”

                Trembling on the brink of a huge orgasm, her fingers went still at his command. “Please, Sir.”

                “No. You’re being punished for playing with yourself earlier. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

                Charity moaned as he disconnected and tried to stop, but couldn’t. Her fingers plunged into her wet pussy, pretending they were her mystery Laird’s. Ripples gathered, and she exploded into orgasm. She was dimly aware of her office door opening as she came.

                Lucas Kendal stood inside Charity Langford’s office doorway blocking anyone passing by from ogling his beautiful she-wolf mate in the throes of passion. Still shaken by the culture shock of being rescued by the Elite, only to have his half-brother Lash killed in the raid, he was still trying to get his bearings. The cyber sex he’d initiated to get her ready for mating had backfired, making him frustrated and horny as hell. Keeping his promise to take Lash’s place as Charity’s mate -- and not succumb to her charms -- was going to be harder than he’d thought. That wasn’t the only thing hard, he thought ruefully, his cock throbbing.

                He'd protect her; teach her passion, and who she was before she dumped him. He was no more than a stud. Hell, he ought to be used to it after the Betas’ breeding farm. After the danger of the Blue Moon was past, her father would choose a more suitable husband for her, and he would move on, ever moving in the shadowy world of the Alphas. Still, he couldn’t help watching her in the throes of an orgasm he’d initiated.

                Charity’s beautiful face was flushed with passion, her headset still in place, her eyes shut, as the extended orgasm swept her away. His hunter’s gaze focused hungrily on her beautiful bare breasts, the pink nipples like ripe strawberries. How he ached to taste them. The sweet sound of ecstasy pouring from her full red lips was like music to his ears, and like an aphrodisiac to any rogue wolf within a sixty-yard radius. This was no longer about a turf war between wolfen societies. From the moment he’d met her two weeks ago this had turned very personal.

                What a naughty girl to disobey him and keep playing with herself. She was so exquisitely responsive; it was hard for him to restrain his animal instincts. He itched to take her over his knee in retribution and then make love to her until she couldn’t think straight. “Want me to take care of that for you, love?” he asked, working hard to keep the sibilant hiss of his Scot’s ancestry out of his voice. It wouldn’t do for her to guess that he and her Laird were one and the same. He watched her big violet eyes pop open.

                Lucas smiled as her mouth formed a perfect “O” of shock, but true to her royal status, her dismay soon was replaced by an imperious glare.

                “Who gave you a key to my office?” she demanded, quickly pulling her hand out from under her skirt and reaching for her blouse.

                He kicked shut the door and held up his bare hands. “Look, love, no key. The door was unlocked.” He didn’t bother mentioning his fully developed skills gave him powers she’d never dreamed of. Opening a locked door was easy. He’d walk through fire to get to her and keep her safe. He closed the distance between them, noting her trembling hands as she buttoned her blouse. The lady wasn’t as unperturbed as she pretended to be. Good, it suited him to keep her off balance. “We need to talk about this weekend.”

                “Save your breath, Kendal, I’m going.”

                “Have it your way,” he murmured, focusing on her stiff nipples showing clearly through her silk blouse. “I’ll have to go with you.”

                Noting the direction of his stare, she scowled and swiveled her desk chair so that her back was to him. She stood and put on her blazer. “I’ll see you at the airport, then.”

                “It doesn’t work that way and you know it. I’ve arranged transport for us. I’ll be here to collect you in half an hour,” he said, walking out of the room. For all his sexual experience, he couldn’t help feeling like the vulnerable one.

About the Author:

Honey Jans lives in a small Midwestern town with her husband and true inspiration. She is a born romantic with an extraordinarily vivid, yet kinky, imagination. Honey loves writing erotica and hopes that her stories add a little spice to her readers lives.

Website / Blog