book series

Tomatoes, jam…and Burros??

Welcome guest author MEG BENJAMIN!

Burros. Why Did It Have To Be Burros?

photo from The Colorado Sun

Burro racing is the official Colorado Heritage Sport. Right now you may be envisioning a bunch of tiny jockeys riding tiny burros around a dirt track, but if so, you’re wrong. Burro racing is meant to recreate the frontier experience of prospectors and burros running down the trail to the nearest town to register a gold claim before another prospector could beat them to it. The race courses are long (29 miles for the Fairplay race) and rugged (up to 8600 feet for the Buena Vista race and 13,000 feet over Mosquito Pass for Fairplay). According to those who take part, the burros have a better time racing than their human companions since they like running and often enjoy the company of other burros. People, on the other hand, may fall apart.

As soon as I read about burro racing and saw the videos on YouTube, I knew I had to include it in my Luscious Delights cozy mystery series. Thus my newest Luscious Delights mystery, The Tomato Jam Murder, includes all the info on the sport and the people who run it. My heroine, Roxy Constantine, is a jam maker by trade, but she lives in the Colorado mountains in prime burro racing country. Roxy does a couple of training runs with a friend, but on the second of those runs, she stumbles across a body and a fugitive burro.

Here’s a quick excerpt:

“Hello?” I called again.

“Hello yourself,” a male voice called. I put a hand to my hammering heart then stepped back and peered up the trail. Silas and his burro were on the switchback above us. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I found this little guy wandering around, and I’m trying to find his handler. I think there might be somebody in this clump of trees.”

“Okay,” Silas said when he was level with me. “Give me the lead rope. I’ll hold onto him while you see if his owner is around.”

I handed over the rope gratefully enough and stepped into the evergreen grove. The dense thatch of branches blotted out a lot of the light.

A man was lying face down in the center of the grove. On the trail, I’d seen the bright red of the bandanna he had knotted around his neck. “Um…hi?” I said, tentatively. When he didn’t move, or give any sign that he’d heard me, I stepped closer. “Mister? Are you okay?”

Something about the stillness of that body made my throat tighten. I’d seen a few dead bodies in my time, but most of them had been clearly and thoroughly dead. This guy was just lying there. Very quiet.

You’ve got to check. You know that. I did know it, but I didn’t like it. I leaned forward and put my hand on his shoulder. I felt the cool dead flesh through his thin cotton shirt. Yanking my hand away, I stumbled to the trail where Silas waited.

“Call 911,” I gasped. “There’s a dead guy in there.”

I had a great time writing about burro racing and learning about burros in general: for example, there are guard burros who sound the alarm if approach a goat herd. And I managed to work a lot of that information into the book. If you’d like to find out more about burro racing, murder investigating, and, yes, tomato jam in The Tomato Jam Murder, check it out now. It’s available on Amazon October 20, 2025. Amazon buy link: https://amzn.to/4oj93e5

Tagline:

Roxy’s spending her summer with burros and jam, but there’s a murderer in the mountains.

Our story:

It’s burro racing season in the Rockies, and Roxy Constantine is all for it. Now if she can come up with a good recipe for tomato jam, her summer will be complete. But when Roxy finds a body on the burro race course, she’s suddenly plunged into a murder investigation. And when her innocent friend is accused of killing her ex, Roxy must challenge a corrupt police chief who wants to shut her up. Now she needs to find the real killer and save a neighboring town from a plot to ruin its mountain magic.

Meg Benjamin is an award-winning author of romance and cozy mysteries. Meg’s cozy mystery series, Luscious Delights from Wild Rose Press, concerns a jam-making sleuth based in the mythical small town of Shavano, Colorado. Her Konigsburg series is set in the Texas Hill Country and her Salt Box and Brewing Love trilogies are set in the Colorado Rockies (all are available from Entangled Publishing and from Meg’s indie line). Along with romance and cozies, Meg is also the author of the paranormal Ramos Family trilogy from Berkley InterMix and the Folk trilogy from Meg’s indie line. Meg’s books have won numerous awards, including an EPIC Award, a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers, the Beanpot Award from the New England  Romance Writers, the Carly Crown Jewel of Books from the Mid-America Romance Authors, and the Award of Excellence from Colorado Romance Writers.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/meg.benjamin1/ (personal)

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063609878239 (author)

Instagram: @meg_benjamin

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@meg_benjamin

BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/meg-benjamin.bsky.social

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2869971.Meg_Benjamin

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/meg-benjamin

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/megbenjamin/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Meg-Benjamin/author/B0030F12FY?ref=ap_rdr&store_ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@megbenjamin1396

Website: http://www.MegBenjamin.com/

Another winner mystery from M.S. Spencer!

Thanks so much Alana, for allowing me to tell your readers about my new mystery, Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders. I hope they enjoy the excerpt and long to read more!

Blurb

When Sophie Childress discovers a letter written in 1920 by the witness to a murder, she enlists Noah Pennyman—owner of the house where it took place—to investigate. Who was the victim? What did the killer do with the body—not to mention a carpetbag full of money? Together they expose a complex web of family ties and lies that has persisted through four generations in the historic village of Marmion Grove. When two more corpses are unearthed, Noah and Sophie are faced with too many victims and not enough murderers.

Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders

Mystery, cozy

The Wild Rose Press, June 11, 2025

390 pp; 89,900 words
Ebook: $5.99; Print $22.99
Theme(s): Small Town, Mystery, Humorous/Comedy, Cozy Mystery
Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders opens with the discovery of a letter from a witness to a murder. The letter fell out of a copy of Agatha Christie’s first published book, The Mysterious Affair at Styles. The heroine, Sophie Childress, volunteers for the Vassar Book Sale. Now closed down, for forty years it was one of the largest and most successful used book sales in the country, raking in an average of $100,000 for scholarships. Sophie is learning to price rare books, so she recognizes the  Christie volume as a first edition, and discovers that the first printing of the first edition was actually in New York, and not London. The famous London edition of her book was released a full year after the New York one.

The letter was written in 1920, the same year as the New York release, sending Sophie and her hero, Noah, on a search for possible connections between the two events.

Excerpt: The Letter

“What’s this?” She lifted out a heavy polyethylene bag. She knew from Eudora’s instruction that the bag was archival quality. Now why was this one protected when the others weren’t? She slid the book out. “Agatha Christie. The Mysterious Affair at Styles.” Christies were a dime a dozen. Most of her works had millions of copies in print. It was unlikely this was valuable, even though it was a hardback. Maybe it was a gift. There could be an inscription or note inside. She checked the flyleaf. Nothing. She turned to the copyright page. “First edition, first printing.” Okay. New York: John Lane Publishing Company, 1920. Wait a minute. She set it down, puzzled. New York? Christie’s books were published in England. It must be the first American edition. Still, sometimes those fetched surprisingly good prices. Another thing to research at the center. As she reinserted it in its plastic bag, an envelope fell out. Yellowed and stained, it was addressed to Constable Bustwick, Montgomery County Police. No return address or stamp. She opened it.

Inside was a scrap of butcher’s brown wrapping paper. It’s a letter. The handwriting was shaky. An older person? A child? Though the date was obscured by a streak of dried ink, she could make out “April” and “1920.” The same year the book was published. She sat down to read.

Dear Constable Bustwick,

I write to you in great distress. I believe I may have witnessed a horrible act. However, I do not know if it was truly a crime, so I am begging you to investigate quietly. If I speak out publicly, I risk my position.

The event occurred two nights ago. The master and mistress had retired. I had closed up the house and returned to my room when a thunderstorm barreled through. For a time the thunder was quite loud. Lightning struck one of our cherry trees with a great CRACK. I had finally dozed off when a noise outside woke me. It was perhaps an hour past midnight. We have had problems with raccoons in the garbage pit lately, so I took my broom and went out to frighten the creatures off. It was very dark after the storm, with only the feeble light from the hitching post lantern to see by. A figure came around the side of the carriage house. He had a large bundle slung over his shoulder. Mr. Constable, I think it was a body! As I watched, he toppled it into the back seat of an automobile parked on the gravel. When he tried to close the door, a man’s hat fell out. He picked the hat up, threw it inside, and drove away.

I was terrified, but the master had left strict orders not to disturb them, so I went back to my quarters. The next morning the master and mistress had breakfast as usual. Neither mentioned a late night visitor. The stable held only their Ford Model T and the carriage. The car in the driveway had been much larger and fancier. I remember the lamplight glinting on a chrome hood ornament that resembled a flying bird.

When the day had almost passed and the master had not altered his normal routine, I began to feel that I’d dreamed the whole thing. Then late that afternoon I was sweeping the carriage house floor and found the glass bottle we keep the rat poison in. It lay in the floor drain, shattered. Constable Bustwick, I do not know if the broken bottle has anything to do with the body, but I fear it does. I beg you to look into it, but please, please don’t contact my master or mention my name. I pray there is a simple explanation for all this.

Sincerely, Agnes Reilly.

The letter fell out of Sophie’s hand. My God. Did this Agnes really witness a murder? And why didn’t she mail the letter? Did she mean to hand carry it, or perhaps she couldn’t find a stamp? And how did it end up in the book? She sat, fanning herself with the envelope. Hefting the volume, she quickly slipped the letter between its pages and dropped it back in the box.

I have to return to Marmion Grove anyway. I’ll ask Noah about the letter. She was ashamed to realize the thought gave her pleasure

Buy links:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/railroadties/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Railroad-Ties-Marmion-Grove-Murders-ebook/dp/B0F38Q5HZR

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/railroad-ties-m-s-spencer/1147152800?ean=2940184496733

Apple/IBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/railroad-ties-the-marmion-grove-murders/id6744065960

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/230846616-railroad-ties

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/railroad-ties-the-marmion-grove-murders-by-m-s-spencer

About the Author

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. In June 2025 she will have published eighteen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Social media links:

Blog: https://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencermysteries

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/m-s-spencer

Shepherd: https://shepherd.com/search/author/21204

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B002ZOEUC8

The latest from Ella Braeme!

Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man

How can I tell the love of my life we’re having a baby if he doesn’t even remember having had sex?

After a passionate, unforgettable night with my best friend, a tragic accident leaves him with no memory of our fiery connection. As I navigate the complexities of our altered relationship, I’m grappling with an unexpected pregnancy. Going back to being best friends now is impossible. Can I reignite the spark in his heart before he learns of the baby and feels obligated to stay?

Dive into the enthralling world of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man—a tale brimming with small-town charm and a gentle touch of steam. Experience an emotional journey towards a happily ever after in this standalone installment of the Elken Grove Mountain Men series.

♥ surprise baby ♥ friends to lovers ♥ mountain man ♥ Appalachia ♥ amnesia ♥ small town ♥

Review quotes

This is so sweet it hurts.

You will love what happens with these two and the wild love they have for each other.

This is a friends to lovers, second chance love story….but with a twist.

Excerpt of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man

Everybody in this town is in on the big, fat secret: I’ve had sex with Finn Winslow, and he’s forgotten all about it.

As a result, they are awkward around me. I can’t even blame them. In most places, I guess, I’d be the victim of lewd comments, judging glances, and sexual innuendo. But not in Elken Grove. Here, the townsfolk offer clumsy side-glances and full-on pity.

Take this morning, for example. As usual, I write the special on the board behind the cash register. Stretching my plump, short frame, I carefully chalk today’s special. It’s peanut bar day, a favorite of our customers. Can’t blame them. Together with the sprinkles of dark chocolate and gooey salted caramel, it’s a slice of heaven.

Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, regulars for their daily coffee and pastry, come in. Mrs. Hartley stares at the board as if seeing it for the first time. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, reminding me of a carp. I’ve never seen a carp in real life, but this is how it must look. Mr. Hartley gently touches her arm and says to me, in a soothing voice, “We’ll have red velvet muffins, please, dear.”

There is nothing wrong with our red velvet muffins. But since when don’t the Hartleys jump at a chance to get the peanut bar?

Robin, the coffee shop’s owner, looks on, and once the Hartleys are at their usual table by the corner window, takes a closer look at the board. And that’s when I see it, too. “Peenut bar w/dark chocolate and caramel.”

Much less than missing out on a peanut bar, Mr. Hartley would miss a chance for a stupid sexual joke. Instead, he called me “dear” and almost patted my hand. That’s how the folks of Elken Grove treat me now. I know it’s meant to be considerate, but it’s wearing thin.

Robin, taller than me, swiftly erases the offending E.

“Gimme that,” I say. “Your handwriting should not be on promotional boards.”

Robin sighs in mock relief. “She’s talking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Lately, you’ve seemed unfocused and unusually quiet. Don’t lose your spunk, girl.”

I huff. My spunk has long since faded. For months now, everybody in this town has felt entitled to discuss intensely private matters with me. Like how sad it was that the night both of Finn’s brothers got married ended this tragically: I finally got together with the man I’ve loved for years, and that’s when the thrift store under my apartment caught fire and the building burned down. We had to jump from the second-floor window, stark naked. Finn badly injured his leg and was whisked away to the hospital and rehab. I haven’t seen him since, haven’t even gotten in touch with him. He’s got memory issues, and the doctor insisted on complete rest and no contact unless he initiates it. Which he hasn’t, but for a few texts. I know he hates writing, and his texts showed that he cared about me, but were disappointingly friendly. He is his usual carefree self, only he doesn’t remember anything about the night of his accident. Which includes having had sex with me.

But Robin is right, I’m letting myself go. I suppress a sigh and resolve to fake it until I make it. I snatch the chalk. “I’m sorry, I’ll just redo the board.”

Robin looks unconvinced. That’s what you get when you’re friends with your boss: well-meant meddling.

Meghan comes in and rattles off her order for the hardware store. As I make her coffees, and we chat about the unusually mild, but rainy March weather, I feel almost normal. When she leaves, she passes a grinning Patty Winslow in the door. My heart starts beating like a drum. I haven’t seen Finn’s mother this happy since before the night of the fire, so maybe she’s bringing good news. Perhaps I finally will be able to talk to Finn.

Patty comes straight for me. She takes my hands in hers and, with tears in her eyes, announces, “He’s coming home. He just called from the road.” A sob escapes her. “He’ll be home this afternoon.”

My knees weaken and tears well up, but my face breaks into the biggest grin ever. He’s coming home!

Patty looks around at the customers present. The Hartleys are here, and Mr. Vance is—they are the biggest gossips in town. Soon everyone will know that Finn is returning.

With a loud voice to make sure everybody hears, she declares, “I spoke with the doctor again, and he stressed how crucial it is for Finn to remember that night on his own. No one is to tell him. He needs to remember by himself.”

I’ve never understood that. Don’t doctors usually encourage patients meeting their friends and family? Talking about what happened? This feels wrong, but my formal education ended when I left high school, so I wouldn’t know anything about amnesia but for what I’ve read about since that night.

Patty turns back to me. “I’m sorry, dear. You’ll have to be patient a little longer. But the doctor is confident that, if you really matter to him, Finn will remember sooner or later.”

What if he doesn’t? Am I not important enough to be remembered?

How can I possibly tell him we’re having a baby when I’m not allowed to remind him we’ve had sex?

Read on: https://books2read.com/knocked-up-by-her-mountain-man

About the author

Ella writes sweet’n’steamy romances that are meant to provide short vacations from your everyday life. She loves to read, mostly romances, of course, and to putter around in her backyard, forever trying to turn it into a blooming garden. She’s got a dog who is helping greatly with all the garden work by supervising everything Ella does and—for the most part—not digging up her flowers.

Meet Ella

Follow Ella on Instagram @ellawritesromance

or on BlueSky https://bsky.app/profile/ellawritesromance.bsky.social

Sign-up to her emails and get a free novella https://ellabraeme.com/newsletter.htm

Visit the website https://ellabraeme.com

Other books by Ella Braeme

Contemporary Romance

Elken Grove Mountain Men

Butting Heads with Her Mountain Man
Her Rock Star Mountain Man
Knocked Up by the Mountain Man

Married in Windfall

Nice Enough
Anyone at Hand
Someone I Chose
Santa’s Proposal
Married in Windfall (the entire series available as paperback)

Suspense Romance

Shielded Hearts

Mountain Hideout ← free with sign-up

In a city renowned for being risqué, she’s setting new standards for sin

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

When sexually emancipated MILF Lauren Gordon accompanies her husband to a convention in Las Vegas, she’s hoping for some R&R—ideally of the carnal variety. But Elliott’s running for president of NADA—the National Association of Divorce Lawyers—and he’s worried that his wife’s free-wheeling ways will undermine his chances. Reining in her frustration, Lauren promises to avoid any erotic interactions with conference attendees or hotel staff.

Fortunately she meets Annie O’Reilly, a redheaded Vegas native with luscious curves and few if any inhibitions. With Annie as her companion, Lauren becomes intimately acquainted with some outrageously wanton denizens of Sin City. Then her husband unfairly accuses her of breaking her promise and Lauren decides it’s time to go for broke.

Bringing together characters from Lisabet’s Vegas Babes and The Slut series, The Slut Does Vegas delivers heat, humor and a surprisingly happy ending.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1782-the-slut-does-vegas-vegas-babes-book-6/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1719616

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-slut-does-vegas

Books2Read UBL: https://books2read.com/u/4E0GOY

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/228636610-the-slut-does-vegas

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-slut-does-vegas-vegas-babes-book-6-by-lisabet-sarai

Excerpt:

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

Her husband’s unexpected utterance grabbed Lauren’s attention. She’d been ogling the cute waiter who was circulating from table to table, topping up coffees. A few years older than her son Josh, the guy had a hundred-watt smile and a luscious butt.

“What?” People at nearby tables gave her strange looks. “What do you mean, Elliott?” she continued, reducing her volume. “Embarrass you in what way?”

“You know… with any of your extracurricular activities.” Elliott’s mouth pursed as though he’d eaten something sour. “It would look really bad if you got…” He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Um…involved with anyone from the conference.”

She glanced around the hotel restaurant at the other people finishing their breakfasts. You could tell which ones were the lawyers. They wore expensive suits and expressions of self-importance. “I doubt I’d be interested in any of the conference attendees,” she commented dryly.

“The hotel staff wouldn’t be much better.” Maybe he’d noticed the attention she’d been giving the server. “If anyone here finds out about our – arrangement, it could kill my chances for the Association presidency.”

“You really want to be president of the National Association of Divorce Attorneys?” She chuckled despite herself. Who’d be oblivious enough to name their organization NADA?

“It’s really important for my career,” he insisted, wiping his mouth and pushing his plate away. “And it means a lot to me personally. Plus the connections could bring in a lot more business.”

“I understand that you’d like the recognition, hon. And I know you deserve it.” She rested her hand on his for a moment. “But from what I can see, you’re already swamped with work.” She downed the last swallow of her grapefruit juice, then licked her lips. “That’s one of the reasons for my ‘extracurricular activities’, as you so delicately put it. Let’s face it, you don’t have the time to keep me satisfied.”

Her husband slumped in his chair, as if she’d punched him in the gut. “I know I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, baby,” he said softly. “And I’m okay with you getting what you need elsewhere, as we’ve agreed. But I need you to be discreet.”

“Do you think I’m so blatant about wanting sex?”

“Well, just look at the way you’re dressed, for starters.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” She’d thrown on some casual clothes to join him for breakfast: a dungaree skirt that reached to mid-thigh and a striped tee shirt. True, the denim hugged her curves and the scooped neckline showed off her generous cleavage, but that would be true of almost anything she wore.

“You look – well, you look a bit slutty.”

Lauren burst into laughter. “Hon, this is Las Vegas, Sin City, where even the nuns dress like hookers. Nobody is going to think this outfit is slutty.”

New anthology to share tales of women in alternate histories that change our future

HERitage 2, TWISTING, TURNING TIMESHIFTS, is funding now.

Our Kickstarter launches on 2/4/25. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/bluetrixbooks/twisting-turning-timeshifts

You can already sign up for notifications! All kinds of incentives and rewards will be available, including being written into one of our stories, bonus books and more!

From the deepest past in Stone Age Africa; to ancient Egypt, Sarmatia and Rome; to Medieval Europe; to modern America; to glimpses far into the future, these chronicles will amaze and tantalize.

What kinds of women could change the world? A woman disguised as a man becoming head of the Catholic church. Amazons living past the age of the Greeks and Romans. Elections, wars and more!

My own story shows what happens to the future of American business and politics when Anita Hill’s testimony on sexual harassment succeeds in defeating Clarence Thomas’s bid for a seat on the Supreme Court.

It’ll be a glorious read. Get in on it early!

Don’t forget to get on our list to learn about all the bonuses you could earn as a funding friend!

Tina Donahue’s newest: From pleasure slave to outlaw

AMAZON: https://tinyurl.com/yamzv7k9

Pleasure that destroys all thought. Love that shatters all barriers.

Marked for extermination, Lukan has miraculously escaped E4’s Pleasure Palace. There, sex slaves satisfy the cravings of E2’s rulers for voyeurism, bondage, dominance, submission, punishment, and more. However, his freedom is not enough.

He left behind Arez, who once saved his life and captured his heart. Within her fragrant, heated caress, he knew everything denied him…rapture born from yearning, contentment fueled by tenderness and love. Determined to deliver Arez from certain death and have her for his own, Lukan embarks on a rescue he may not survive.

Arez has known only carnal submission and loneliness before Lukan. She aches for his strong arms, his fevered kisses. Upon his return, he offers danger and hope for a future. How can she resist? Never fully tamed, she wants Lukan more than life. But to flee from this twilight dimension to another, to find freedom and their destiny, they must first outwit this plane’s human predators and its monsters.

Excerpt:

The gentle illumination revealed the stubble on Lukan’s chin, cheeks, and upper lip, making him exceedingly male. Virile. Dangerous. Behind the shutters, night finally pressed in, the sun withdrawing.

With the windows darkened, Lukan pulled back his hood and removed his sunglasses.

Regina gaped, unable to help herself. His shoulder-length hair was thick and wavy, a light golden blond, the color warmer than Damir’s and simply beautiful, while his eyes… Given his sunglasses, she’d expected his irises to be filmy from cataracts or damaged in some way.

In the candlelight, they were a clear blue-green, similar to waters off Bermuda and other exotic locales.

Never had she seen such an exquisite and perfect man. “Who is he?”

Meelo stepped closer. “I created him, along with the others.”

He wasn’t human? He was an android or whatever they called those things?

His skin looked unbelievably real, surely soft and warm to the touch. His chest rose and fell with his quiet breathing, like someone alive rather than a machine. If that was what he was.

It didn’t seem possible, but scientifically, Nikoli’s people were far more advanced than anyone on this side. “Others?”

“Pleasure slaves.” Shame colored Mello’s explanation, surprising from someone raised to show no emotion. “Designed and born to service our government’s rulers on E4.”

So many questions swirled through Regina she couldn’t decide what to ask first. As far as she knew, robots couldn’t be born. She had no idea why Meelo would call machines slaves. Unless they weren’t machines, which led to a more disturbing conclusion. Nikoli’s rulers were even more corrupt than the various government officials on this plane. Those in power over there went beyond extramarital affairs or keeping their people in ignorance and poverty while conducting wholesale genocide. They actually created their victims and indulged in their basest desires, allowing themselves whatever they wanted while demanding order and obedience from their populace.

No wonder Nikoli wasn’t bothered at his leaders believing he’d died heroically in service to their realm. He hadn’t known about this any more than his father probably had. His tightened jaw and the disgust on his face proved as much.

“You’re saying Lukan’s real? That is, human?” For his sake, she hoped he wasn’t.

“Of course.” Damir scrunched her nose then lifted her chin. “What else?”

The woman’s quick defense, the kind a mother would show, convinced Regina there was an emotional bond, at least from Damir’s end.

Despite their discussion about him, Lukan hadn’t commented or shown any emotion. Maybe he didn’t understand English. She spoke to Meelo. “You said designed.”

“On E2, I was a genetic engineer, the same as Damir.” He tightened his fingers on his injured arm, the only indication he had difficulty controlling his feelings. Unlike Damir, who frowned with her mounting agitation, he spoke with stoic composure, the same as others on E2. “We manipulated the genetic code to produce a variety of specimens different from our people. Individuals with a wide spectrum of hair and eye color, features closer to the many races on this dimension, rather than ours. They grew in artificial wombs.”

Good God. This got worse by the second. “So they could be born and used as pleasure slaves?”

“No.” Damir narrowed her eyes. “You don’t understand.”

She matched the woman’s glare. “Actually, I do. Ever hear of Josef Mengele? He tortured countless innocents, murdering them or ruining their lives to create what he considered the perfect race.”

Color rose in Damir’s cheeks. Meelo took her hand. She pulled it away and spoke. “It was our duty to explore the infinite varieties possible within the human genome. We believed our experiments had a biological basis, so we could study and prevent any future disease. We never meant to harm anyone. In the beginning, our rulers said the babies would go to those in high office who were childless and unable to breed.”

Regina didn’t want to ask but couldn’t help herself. “Where did they go?”

Damir hung her head.

Meelo’s hard stance cracked, humiliation seeping through. “As Lukan was our first, he remained with us until he reached what you call majority on this side. We wanted to make certain he was healthy. That he would thrive. We learned later the others were taken after birth to an area within E4’s Pleasure Palace, where they were seen to by a scientific team, given the shelter and nutrition they needed.”

Not love or freedom.

Damir clutched her throat. “Too late we realized what our leaders really wanted. An endless supply of pleasure slaves, delivered to the rulers when they reached maturity. Our people didn’t know about this. Meelo and I found out by accident. By then, we weren’t able to halt the experiments.”

About Tina:

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Bluesky: @tinadonauthor.bsky.social

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Have you read UNENDING DESIRE, the first book in the series? Check it out!

AMAZON: https://tinyurl.com/2p8t73s

His hunger for one woman will make him a traitor to his world…

From a portal in his lab on E2, one of the five dimensions of Earth, quantum physicist Nikoli Zorr gazes on everything forbidden to him. Passion. Desire. The exquisite pleasure of running his hands over the lush curves of a young woman he should have stopped watching weeks ago.

His duty is to close the portals that keep the monsters out of E2—and never interfere with the inevitable fate of those on the other side. Yet he can’t bring himself to abandon the woman who has captured his soul.

Psychologist Regina Page is trying to focus on her client, and off the mysterious, unbearable sexual cravings that consume her when she’s alone in her bedroom. The next moment she’s attacked by vampires, then swept into another realm by Nikoli, a stranger whose touch awakens that same raw desire. Whose eyes are already filled with farewell.

Yet beneath their undeniable carnal lust, something else stirs. The beginnings of illicit love. The unexpected need to protect him. Even if it means risking body, blood, and soul to defeat the merciless horde…for a future that was never meant to be.

From enemies, to lovers…

AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DL3T3JBF

She can heal the dying…

Two men—enemies of her people—will stop at nothing to have her gift, her desire and love

The Prophecy, Book 1

Trapped in a blood feud, Liz uses her healing power to bring Zeke Neekoma from the brink of death so her clan can exploit his prophecies. During the ceremony, she drapes her nudity over his, experiencing his building strength, the stunning pleasure of his caress as he takes her without warning, using her as he wills.

His hunger for a woman he’s supposed to hate isn’t what Zeke expected, nor does he intend to deny himself. Kidnapping Liz, he’s resolved that she heal his brother Jacob ambushed by her people. At his stronghold, Zeke keeps Liz captive to his and Jacob’s desires. The brothers pleasure her without restraint and in ways she’s never known. Before, her life was filled with loneliness and wanting. Now…

Used by two powerful men, threatened by her clan’s determination to get her back, Liz risks all as she surrenders to Zeke’s and Jacob’s lust, the ecstasy of their touch and her most traitorous needs.

EXCERPT:

He lay in the center of the king-sized bed. His breaths were quiet, his eyes closed, legs sprawled, one arm draped over his head as though he was sleeping.

The bullet holes in his muscular left pec contradicted that notion.

Forcing down a swallow, Liz pulled her attention from his wounds—three perfect black circles—to his face.

Her lips parted on a quiet sigh. Rarely had she seen a man wear such a look of serenity. So unlike the terror she’d witnessed on Carreon’s features or those of his men when they’d been so close to death.

Zeke Neekoma was different. The words boyish and innocent came to mind, which Liz dismissed quickly.

Looking to be in his early thirties, he was no boy. Nor was he innocent. His size, surely six-three, his sharp, masculine features and powerful form were perfect for battle against men and pleasure with women.

Heat suffused Liz, making her limbs feel heavy and weak. She recalled what Carreon and his men had told her about Zeke, no doubt a mixture of truth and lies. Not knowing which was which, she moved deeper into the dimly lit room. Spanish-style lamps created pools of honeyed light, giving the space a sacred feel one might experience in a church. The cherry-wood four-poster dominated the sparsely furnished chamber, while a series of leather wing chairs—reserved for observers—circled the bed.

The man who’d been guarding Zeke left the room. Carreon and his men went to their seats, their weight causing the chairs’ legs to scrape against the polished hardwood floor.

For one foolish moment, Liz thought the intrusive noise would cause Zeke to open his eyes and lose his blissful expression. That he’d ask why they’d pulled him from such blessed rest and what appeared to be happiness.

This man didn’t want to be healed. Liz knew it in her soul; saw it in the upward curve of his beautiful mouth. Was he the same as her father, tired of fighting? Or was he welcoming the end so he could reunite with someone he’d loved?

His parents and siblings, perhaps…or a wife.

A new rush of warmth stung Liz’s chest.

Disturbed by the sensation and her aching loneliness—the need for a powerful yet good man at her side—Liz recalled what Carreon’s lieutenants had claimed the first night she’d come here.

“He’ll murder our women and children so our line dies out, just as his kind have always wanted.”

If that was the truth, then Zeke was no different from Carreon, who hunted the weakest, eliminating them first. Once more, she examined Zeke’s face, lingering on his mouth. Instead of a sneer or a smirk, she imagined him smiling at her, his grin honest, reaching his eyes, his wanting of her obvious and—

Stop it.

What was the matter with her, indulging in a romantic fantasy when she was well aware of their people’s conflict and unending hatred for each other? Even if Zeke wasn’t a murdering psychopath, he wasn’t likely to be stirred by a woman from an enemy clan. So why was he affecting her like this? Was it a power he had…or something else. Perhaps the truth as to who he really was?

Ignoring her persistent longing, Liz replaced it with a healthy dose of distrust. “This is Zeke Neekoma?”

“You sound surprised,” Carreon said. “Why?”

About Tina:

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Lyndi Alexander confesses…

Have you found Shepherd.com yet? Ben has curated lists of books chosen by authors to get you to the exact category you want! Lyndi’s first list came out today–but there’s lots more! Can you guess what her other four are?? https://shepherd.com/best-books/fantasy-with-female-underdogs

Get ready for a wild ride!

 A tenacious TV reporter has 48 hours to illegally enter Cuba, find
her sister, and avenge her mámá. Don’t miss the
spine-tingling sequel to Emmy-award winning journalist Linda Hurtado
Bond’s immersive thriller, All The Broken Girls.

All the Missing Girls

by Linda Hurtado
Bond

Genre: Thriller,
Suspense

Once
you enter their world, there is no escape…in this gripping and
undeniably chilling thriller from Emmy-award winning journalist Linda
Hurtado Bond.

As a crime reporter for a Tampa TV news
station, Mari Alvarez knows when an investigation enters dangerous
territory. But with her estranged sister missing and almost no
information to go on, Mari can’t trust anyone but herself to find
the truth. Now she has just 48 hours to sneak into Cuba undetected,
track down her sister…and pray to her orisha that she’s not too
late.

This is nothing like reporting in her neighborhood,
though–a place she knows like the back of her hand. In Havana she
has no contacts and only an ice-cold trail of cryptic clues. When
Detective Tony Garcia offers to help, Mari puts aside her instincts
and tries to let someone in. But soon they’re caught in a maze of
lies, deception, and an undercurrent of the island’s own
witchcraft, a sinister Brujería.

Every lead draws Mari
further into this world of shadows, especially when her sister isn’t
the only young woman who’s gone missing. Each step pushes Mari and
Tony toward a revelation they never saw coming. And as they close in
on the horrifying truth, one thing becomes clear…no one will let
them leave Cuba alive.

Amazon
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Publishing * Bookbub
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Also by the Author: 

All the Broken Girls

Get it on Amazon

 Linda Hurtado Bond is an award-winning journalist for Tampa’s Fox 13
by day and author of romantic thrillers by night. She has won 13 Emmy
awards, numerous Society of Professional Journalist and Associated
Press awards, as well as a Florida Bar and an Edward R. Murrow award.
A breast cancer survivor, she’s also active in the Tampa community
with The American Cancer Society, Hooked on Hope, and The Shoot for a
Cure, raising money and awareness any chance she gets. She’s the
mother of five, four athletes and an adopted son from Cuba. She has
passion for world travel, classic movies and solving a good mystery.

Website
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* Bookbub
* Amazon
* Goodreads

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the tour HERE
for special content and a giveaway!

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Sometimes one plus one equals three…

Welcome frequent blog guest Lisabet Sarai with a new boxed set of love!

Who knew?

It had been months since I’d published any new titles. Meanwhile, my current WIP was proceeding at a snail’s pace due to the demands of my day job, summer vacations, and other real world interruptions. So a few weeks ago, I decided to mine my back list and put together a boxed set to sell on Kindle Unlimited, to see if I could push my Amazon ratings back into positive territory.

I had a few stories in mind, romance tales in the twenty-thousand word region which were originally published years ago, and which might not be familiar to my current readership. (In addition, the KU audience doesn’t overlap much with my usual readers.) I started with three titles. When I looked at the works I’d selected, I saw that they shared a focus on three-way relationships. Then, as I scanned my publishing history, I started to find additional stories on the same theme.

I ended up including six tales in the Triad collection (over 100K words). Actually, I identified a number of other candidates as well, but decided they weren’t as good a fit. Indeed, when I examined the romance I’d written over the past decade and a half, I discovered that I’d written nearly as many threesomes as I had couples.

This was something of a revelation to me. I’ve always been attracted to polyamory, but I didn’t realize how pervasive that interest had become in my writing. If you’d asked me what my “favorite” genre or theme was, I would have cited dominance and submission. But it seems three-way love is at least as common in my writing.

Who knew?

Why should soul mate be singular? Can one person really satisfy every need and desire?

Triad is a compilation of erotic romance tales about threesomes – not fleeting, lust-driven ménage a trois encounters but stable, loving relationships that involve three people. A long-married couple’s ardor is rekindled when another man seduces each of them in turn. A lonely, embittered vampire finds redemption in the arms of his two young victims. A mistletoe kiss reawakens passion between old friends, until Suzanne discovers Gino already has a life partner. An alien pair offers love and immortality to the only survivor of a interstellar disaster.

Steamy and explicit, unapologetically romantic, Triad celebrates the joys of three-way polyamory.

EXCERPT:

Rated R (From Once Upon a Blizzard)

Suzanne had never seen stars so bright. The night sky was a black bowl above them, studded with blazing jewels. The snow blanketing the yard gleamed with some faint inner radiance. At the edges of the property, evergreens clustered in deeper shadow like silent sentinels.

She took a deep breath of the crystalline air, so cold and sharp it hurt her lungs. The tiny hairs inside her nose stood on end. Her earlobes felt like icicles. From the neck down, though, she was bathed in delicious warmth. The bizarre contrast almost made her giggle.

Smooth, hard muscle brushed her thigh. After a moment, roving fingers skittered across her lap and burrowed into her pubic fur. A fiery bolt of lust struck her core.

“Gino!” she scolded. “Behave!”

“Why should I?” asked her lover, rubbing his body against hers under the surface of the water. “Harry doesn’t mind. Do you?”

The lanky blond on Gino’s other flank grinned. “Not at all. Long as you keep up what you’re doing over here, that is.”

Harris had untied his ponytail. His golden locks flowed over his shoulders, darkening to sepia where wet. With his thin face and chiseled features, he looked like some warrior ascetic, a knight on a quest for some sacred prize. Suzanne could understand why Gino found him attractive. She wondered whether he really was one-hundred percent gay.

Leaning back against the redwood wall and closing her eyes, she allowed the peace of the night to enfold her. Her limbs were heavy. Her heart felt as though it was about to overflow.

The growl of motors and a rattling of metal reached her ears. Gino’s solar-heated hot tub was at the back of the house, away from the street. Still, the faint noise shattered the intense quiet of the snow-smothered night.

“Plows,” said Harris, cocking his head in the direction of the sound. “At last.” He pointed to the cloudless sky. “Looks like they were wrong about more snow, though.”

“We’ll drive you over to Pelham early tomorrow morning,” Gino added. “Actually, the highway department might have towed your car already. We’ll call first, assuming we’ve got power. Anyway, don’t worry, you’re likely to be well on your way back home by tomorrow afternoon.”

Home. Suzanne didn’t want to think about California—her neat, modern, empty condo, all the problems and decisions awaiting her at work, the bland weather and the vacant sky.

“There’s no rush,” she said finally. “I’m going to miss my Monday appointment anyway. But thank you.” She squeezed Gino’s hand. “For everything.”

Now, despite all that they had done together, she found she was shy. Steam drifted up in pale swirls from the heated surface of the water. Underneath, she could barely make out the shape of their naked limbs. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmured finally. “Both of you.”

“You’ll be back for Christmas, though, won’t you?” Gino’s eyes were shadowed but Suzanne understood the yearning she’d see there, if there were more light.

“Maybe…” she began. She imagined another holiday with her parents, pleasant but predictable. They wouldn’t mind if she disappeared after the opening of the presents. And suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Gino again, very soon. “Yes. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“Wonderful.” Gino pulled her into a kiss that made her heart pound and her pussy tremble. “You can stay over, you know,” he added when he finally released her. “You can stay for as long as you want.”

“The house has six bedrooms,” Harris commented. “Way more space than we need.”

“Yeah—even with my office and Harry’s studio, there are two rooms we barely use.”

“We do have broadband Internet, by the way. Even if we don’t have mobile service.”

“There’s a local limo company that can get you to Logan in two hours. Harry uses it when he has an exhibition in New York…”

“This is freak weather,” Harris interrupted. “Most winters we don’t get much snow.”

“And the summers here are glorious, green everywhere, bright sun and lingering twilights, fresh sweet corn and luscious home-grown tomatoes…”

“I know!” Suzanne couldn’t keep from laughing. “I grew up here, remember?”

“I thought that maybe you’d forgotten,” said Gino, his voice soft.

“No,” she replied, flush with a recollection of the loyal, clever tease he’d been in school. “I remember very well.”

Buy Links

Free on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/217367481-triad

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh