Sunday Snippet

Book 1: Gods of Love series

In honor of the upcoming Valentine's Day, this is week two highlighting my Cupid titles. This week, I'm featuring the first book in my Gods of Love series. Enjoy!

~~*~~

Daphne Charissa isn't a chubby little guy with wings and a quiver of arrows. But she does belong to the Cupid race—a race of devastatingly beautiful creatures who excel at helping others find love, while remaining loveless themselves throughout their long lives.

When Daphne falls in love with Bion Chronos, she launches the two of them into a direct confrontation with the Furies as they fight to protect their own love and win release from the curse of lovelessness for the whole Cupid race. The problem is, the Furies have no intention of letting them win, and the lovers can't seem to keep their hands off each other long enough to form a coherent plan.

It's gonna be an interesting battle.

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The Romance Studio gives Nocked Over 5 Hearts! "...a book that literally rocks with fun and eroticism. This is one of many of this author's tales that turn a fact of life we can relate to into a book we'll find hard to put down." ~ Dee Dailey, The Romance Studio

"I absolutely LOVED Nocked Over! Ms. Cheever has a beautiful voice and a light touch with her characters. I simply cannot imagine a reader who would not love Nocked Over.... What are you waiting for? Go get a copy of Nocked Over! As for me, I'm chasing down another of Sam Cheever's books." ~ Marcy Arbitman, JERR

"A delight from beginning to end, Nocked Over will have you rapidly turning the pages to see what happens next. The ending is wonderful. Run out and get a copy of Nocked Over and delight in the tale of Bion and Daphne. You will not be disappointed." ~ Elise Lyn, SensualReads.com

"There is only one thing I can say about this book.........FANTABULOSO!!!!!!!! I just couldn't put it down. I can't wait to read it again.....and again....and again....and..yeah okay, you get the idea..."
~ Seriously Reviewed

~~*~~

I knew he’d entered the building as soon as his feet hit the foyer tile.

I hurried toward my office, preferring to meet him under the professional aura the tastefully decorated room provided. I had just landed in my chair when I heard the elevator ding.

The heavy doors slid open.

I forced myself to turn away from my open office door. Peering at my computer screen without really seeing it, I visualized him as he stalked toward my office door, his long, elegant limbs moving with the grace of a large cat and his gorgeous gray-green eyes focused on me behind my desk.

I studiously ignored him.

He didn’t speak.

It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten the impression he knew that I was able to sense his presence, even when I pretended that I couldn’t.

I turned finally, unable to resist and sucked in a breath before I could stop myself.

Bion Chronos was not a god but he should have been.

His long body leaned against the door frame with a muscular grace that was inborn and unconscious rather than studied. One shoulder, amazingly broad, leaned casually against the polished wood and his long arms crossed his chest, bulging a bit under the tight white shirt he wore.

The shirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing soft, dark curls across a broad chest and had been left untucked. His ridiculously long legs were crossed too and were encased in tight jeans. One scuffed brown boot was tucked over the other on the shiny cherry floor of my office.

My eyes caressed the entire picture, from the top of his head, covered in silky black hair that was cut short to frame a strong face, down the long length of him, to the heavy boots. Then, against my will, my gaze started back up, lingering a bit too long somewhere in the middle, where the jeans did some really nice things just under the loose tails of the shirt.

I licked my lips and forced myself to look at his face, which wasn’t exactly a hardship. His eyes were a dark, gray-green, surrounded by thick, black lashes. His jaw was strong and square, with a permanent dark stubble that he couldn’t seem to stay ahead of with his razor. His chin had a large dimple in the middle that I wanted to stick my tongue into.

His skin was a dark and probably natural golden brown.

I did a mental head shake and blinked, realizing how far I’d fallen beyond my professional and self imposed restrictions. Gulping audibly, I focused my gaze on his gorgeous eyes.

They had the longest, thickest lashes I’d ever seen.

“Hello, Daphne.” His voice was husky and deeper than an exploratory well in the Sahara.

I gulped again. “Mr. Chronos.”

He shook his dark head and pushed himself away from the door frame. He didn’t exactly walk toward me. It was more like he sauntered across the room, the casualness of the movement not hiding the firm purpose inherent in his steps. He stopped in front of my desk and placed both hands on its cluttered surface. He leaned toward me over the desk, his full lips slightly open and gave me a slow smile. “I must insist you call me Bion.”

His cologne swamped me in masculine musk, urging me into its sphere like a vampire’s call. I felt my eyes widen. I wasn’t entirely sure that the aroma came from a bottle. I suspected it was his own personal scent, pure male pheromones.

I couldn’t help myself, I leaned away in self defense and pushed my chair back a bit frantically, catching my foot on a slightly ajar drawer and nicking my soft, black leather boot.

“Damn!” I muttered. They had been my favorite pair of boots.

He lifted his hands from the surface of my desk and lowered himself into the chair that had previously contained Dema Pence. His eyes tracked me carefully as I moved around my office, pretending to shut it down for the night.

I was really just stalling for time. Trying to figure out how I could get out of the appointment.

When I ran out of things to do I turned to him and forced a smile. “I guess I’m ready.”

He gave me a slow grin that melted the ligaments in my knees. “And you’re obviously thrilled.”

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Shrugging, I grabbed my purse and headed toward the door. He fell in behind me, placing his hand in the small of my back.

My skin, under his hand, tingled deliciously.

“I am. I love my job, Mr…”

“Uh uh uh.” He shook a long finger at me. The nail on the end was clean, square and nicely trimmed.

Incredibly I think I blushed. “Bion.”

“Generally I feel sorry for workaholics, Daphne. But in your case I’m pleased that your work forces you to spend time with me.”

I did a mental head shake, deciding that Mr. Chronos and I would need to have an understanding. Obviously he wasn’t up on the whole, untouchable Cupid thing. Not that I could tell him I was a Cupid. Humans didn’t know, nor would they believe if they knew, about my race.

It was just better for everyone if we kept a low profile.

But occasionally a human tried to breach the unspoken laws governing our two races. That would be fine except that, ultimately, they always rejected us for reasons that even they didn’t fathom.

It had been declared by the gods. Cupids could not enjoy long-lasting love.

An unbreakable rule.

Yet, as Bion Chronos carefully handed me into his small, black sports car and leaned over me unnecessarily to click my seat belt closed, I inhaled his wonderful musk and wished it wasn’t so.

For about the hundredth time since he’d walked into my life.

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Sam's Sunday Snippets

In this short Christmas story, Astra has been conscripted to deal with a demon that’s been sliding down chimneys after Santa leaves, stealing toys, and beating up anyone who tries to stop him. The reportedly hairy, green demon wearing a red Santa suit and hat has been really hard to catch in previous years, but the Big Guy has grown increasingly tired of his antics and, this Christmas, has called out the big guns.

Angry at having to work on Christmas Eve, Astra reluctantly trudges out to deal with The Grinch on a bitterly cold night, carrying with her some really dark thoughts. But the spirit of love and giving soon touches Astra and she discovers she’s not as alone and unloved on a cold night as she might have thought. All she has to do is reach out and embrace her blessings. Not an easy thing for a cynical Tweener to do. But Astra Q Phelps is definitely up for the challenge.

A noise in the alleyway across the street brought me out of my warm thoughts and back to the brutal reality of my task. My gaze whipped toward the alley just in time to see a flash of red disappearing between the buildings. 

I concentrated my power and shifted to the mouth of the alley, landing with my knives clutched firmly in my toasty fingers. I was happy to note that the gloves didn’t affect my grip at all.

A handsome, surprised face, over-scored by white fur, turned in my direction. Sexy lips curved upward at my battle stance. “Hello, my queen.”

I slapped my knives back into their sheaths, feeling my previous good mood slipping away. “Don’t call me that, Dialle. What’s with the garb?”

He was wearing skin-tight, black leather pants that skimmed his long, muscular legs and yummy round posterior in a truly mouth watering way. Tall, red boots with white fur on the tops skimmed his lean calves in a loving embrace. His torso was covered in a form-fitting red velvet shirt, which was laid open at the neck to showcase a truly astounding pair of pecs. He wore a fur trimmed Santa hat. Silky black hair fell in smooth waves from beneath the hat, to curl softly around a square chin with a dimple in the center.

I loved that dimple.

Dialle opened his arms and grinned widely at me. “I’m your Christmas Angel.”

I snorted in a less than ladylike way. The idea that I would have a leader of the Royal Devils as a Christmas Angel was just too funny. “You are many things, bud, but an angel you ain’t.”

Dialle stepped closer, bringing an unnatural and very welcome heat with him. He pulled me into his arms and I sighed, enjoying his scent and warmth. “That’s just because you bring out the devil in me, Astra.”

Download the whole story here!

Merry Christmas Everybody!

Sam's Sunday Snippets

Continuing to highlight past Christmas free reads, Astra Gets a Lump of Coal for Christmas is from 2010. Enjoy!

In this short Christmas story, Astra is forced to spend Christmas in Satan’s backyard, helping the angels figure out how the green dragons are escaping Hell to terrorize the human realm on Earth. Astra is thrilled. I mean, there’s nothing like Hell at Christmastime. The lovely, scorched earth theme delights the visual pallet while the dulcet sound of terrified screaming serenades the lucky minions within Hell’s fiery grasp.

Astra’s body may be locked in Hell, but her thoughts are a few million miles north, where light and angelic music are the norm. And somewhere in the middle, where bright colors and happy thoughts rule the day.

So what does a kick ass demon hunter do when she finds herself holding a big, fat lump of coal on Christmas day? Why, she thumps an elf , of course!

“So…what’s an elf doing in Hell?”

He spared me a quick glance. “Are you kidding me? This is our biggest coal distribution area.”

I snorted. “Who’d you piss off to get Hades duty?”

“I’ve never been very good with politics,” he murmured.

“Yeah, me neither. What have you got there?”

He grinned at me. “The nice and naughty list.”

I frowned. This was a sensitive subject with me. “Am I on it?”

The elf pretended to peruse the list, his beady black eyes flashing with terminal hilarity. “Astra Q Phelps? Let’s see…oh yes, there you are…in the coal section.” He burst into good-natured laughter, his little shoulders rolling and bouncing with mirth. 

I frowned, not amused. “How’d you know my name, elf?”

He shrugged. “I was told you’d be coming.”

“Who told you I was coming?”

He just shrugged again and pretended to peruse the scroll.

I tried to read over his shoulder but he turned his back on me so I couldn’t see. “Why won’t you let me see the list?”

“Santa / recipient confidentiality.”

“But I’m a recipient. “

He ignored me and continued to read the scroll.

I lay down in the snow and, just for grins, made a snow Tweener. When I stood up to look at it, my Tweener had horns and a tail. I glared skyward. “Very funny.” Thunder rolled across the sky, sounding suspiciously like laughter.

Glynus lay down on her belly and flapped her wings, sending snow billowing over the elf and me. She grunted in pleasure as the snow cooled her enormous belly. I love snow, Mother Tweener.

Yeah, me too, Tadpole.

Glancing back toward the elf,  I  tried a different tactic. “Have you seen a lot of green dragons around here?”

The elf looked up, his dark, sparkling eyes narrowing on me with distrust. “Why do you ask?”

“That’s why I’m here. I’ve been tasked with stopping their escape into the human realm.”

His gaze, which had been harmless and bright a moment earlier, like a puppy’s, was suddenly dark and unfathomable, almost hostile.

I wasn’t aware elves did hostile.

“You do realize they’re being poisoned here, right?”

I opened my mouth to respond but he didn’t give me the chance.

“Their only hope is to get out of here. You would stop them and cause their deaths? You would really do that? No wonder you’re on the coal list.”

Sloughing off the un-elf-like dig, I ploughed onward, seeing a possible end to my stint in maximum security Hell. “You seem very informed and interested, elf. You wouldn’t by any chance be involved in helping them escape, would you?”

He pulled himself up to his full height of about four feet and not much and stuck his little pug nose into the air, puffing up his rosy cheeks. “If I was involved I wouldn’t tell you, coal girl.”

I felt a snarl building in my chest. Power tingled in my fingertips. I clenched my hands to stop myself from flinging a fireball at the vertically challenged rodent. “Look, elf. I don’t really care if you’re involved. I’m not gonna turn you in to the red guy or anything. I just want to stop the spill of greens into the human realm so I can get home and start enjoying the Holidays.”

The look on his face almost took my breath away. Through his beady little eyes I suddenly saw myself. I finally realized what I was saying, what I had been trying to do.

I was willing to sign death warrants for every green dragon in Hell so I could get back to my Champaign and cookies. I was a schmoe, a shmuck, a class A jerk. I dropped my butt onto the elf’s three legged stool and buried my face in my hands. “You’re right. I’m an ass. I do deserve a lump of coal.”

Are you all right, Mother Tweener. Do you want me to thump the elf for you?

I sighed. No, tadpole. I don’t want you to thump the elf.  I may want to do it myself. 

Download the rest of the story here!

Sam's Sunday Snippets

As Christmas fast approaches, and I busily work to complete this year's Christmas story, I thought it might be fun to highlight previous year's free Christmas reads. So this week's Sunday Snippet is from my 2011 Astra Q Phelps short, The Year the Grinch Stole Santa. Enjoy!

~~*~~

Astra is determined to take Christmas off, so she’s been ignoring the nearly constant calls from the North Pole to help them find Santa, who’s disappeared just days before Christmas.

But when a flash mob of elves show up and whisk her away to the North Pole, fresh from the shower and all nakies, what’s a Tweener to do?

Looks like Astra will be working again on Christmas after all.

                                               ~~*~~

Peace on Earth and Goodwill toward Men…Bleurgh!

In my world, nobody’s peaceful.

Nobody.

In Heaven, the Big Guy’s fighting to come to some kind of agreement with the Union of Guardian Angels and he’s worried about a major strike that will leave everybody on Earth unprotected. On Earth, violence has spiked and people are going crazy over taxes and a truly stinky economy, as well as a food shortage. And at the North Pole, there have been rumors of Elf unrest and Santa has gone missing.

It’s been all I could do to keep myself in the holiday spirit. With that goal in mind, I was currently ignoring multiple calls a day from the North Pole.

Ignoring? You ask in disbelief. Ignoring Santa!?

Yes. I’m ignoring Santa.

Or rather, his elves. The little buggers have been calling me every five minutes and I’ve been doing my best to avoid those calls. Why? you ask. because I’m sick and frunkin’ tired of having to work every Christmas.

Just for once I’d like to spend the week before Christmas shopping for gifts, attending holiday parties, and baking cookies like everybody else.

I saw that face.

You don’t think I can bake cookies do you? Huh?

Okay. You’re right. But I can frunkin’ eat ‘em can’t I?

Sigh. If I get the chance.

My televisual bleeped again and I grabbed the pillow next to me and covered my face with it. Cursing like a green Martian policeman, I climbed out of bed and headed for the personal hygiene room, intending to drown my sorrows in blissfully hot soapy water.

A few minutes later, I was soaking wet and happily soapy when the lights in the room flickered and I sensed movement. I squinted one eye open, cognizant of the soap running down my face, and started to pull my power forward.

Something light and shimmery landed on my head and my power froze on my fingertips. My eyes opened wide and I immediately regretted it as soap ran into them in a stinging stream.

“Frunk!” I lifted a hand and scraped it over my face and then glared down at my diminutive attackers, my eyes trying their best to close under the sting.

A familiar face glared back at me.

“Ralphy!”

He was dressed in green tights and a green tunic and wearing a red pointed hat, a wide red belt, and red shoes with curling toes.

As usual, he looked ridiculous.

Behind him ranged several more vertically challenged rodents wearing stupid outfits to match Ralphy’s. They all had ridiculously rosy cheeks too, but their expressions were less jolly.

In fact they mostly looked royally pissed.

Ralphy looked down his pug nose at me. It didn’t take him long since it was only about an inch long. “Astra Q Phelps. I came to tell you that, this year, you’re so naughty you don’t even rate coal. This year all you’re gonna get from the North Pole is hostility.”

~~*~~

Want more? You can download the entire story free!

Sam's Sunday Snippets

This week I'm giving you a sneak preview snippet of Declan Sands' soon to be released dark paranormal romance, Bright City Lights!

~~*~~

An Alpha, a Politician, and a killer walk into a bar...

Rabb is an alpha shifter, a werewolf, who likes to defy both the odds and authority. He prefers the city lights over the open spaces most shifters enjoy.

Brant is a politician with a secret that's becoming harder and harder to contain. As mayor of Bright City, he's determined to keep the city free of shifters.

The two men share a fair amount of distrust, along with a smoldering history that threatens to drag them under again. But when shifters begin to die in Bright City, Rabb and Brant need to find a way to work together again. Especially when one of them inadvertently steps right into the murderer's deadly path.

~~*~~

There was brave, and then there was just butt stupid. The alpha shifter wasn’t sure which category the man glaring at him from across the space of only a couple of feet belonged in. Rabb was leaning toward stupid, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the guy had really pissed him off, or because it was true.

Rabb Miller wasn’t used to people standing up to him. A natural Alpha, he tended to just expect others to fall in line. When he said jump, most shifters and humans he encountered not only jumped but they didn’t touch the ground again until he told them it was okay.

Rabb especially didn’t like being told what to do…or more precisely…what he couldn’t do. That was just damn unacceptable. He stared down at the wiry little man standing a few feet away and let his Alpha face slide into place, complete with eyes that might have glowed just the tiniest bit.

Amazingly, the little man didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Stupid was quickly gaining ground. “Mr. Miller, you can’t intimidate me. I’m here on behalf of the Mayor. He has a strict ‘no shifter’ policy in Bright City and you’re in defiance of that policy just by being here. We’re askin’ real nice to start and then I’m gonna have to get nasty.”

Rabb crossed his arms over his chest, his arms bulging and menace radiating out of every pore. “This is my place. You can’t come in here and start making demands.”

“You bought the place through dishonest means. You deserve to lose it.”

Rabb’s arms dropped and his hands fisted at his sides. “That’s a damn lie. I bought City Lights through my lawyer. She assures me she followed the letter of the law during the purchase and I believe her. Now I’d advise you to get your scrawny ass off my property this minute or I’ll throw you out myself.”

Demitre Glass pursed thin lips and held Rabb’s golden-brown gaze a moment longer, as if to prove he wasn’t afraid. He glanced toward the bar, where Rabb’s second in command polished glasses with one eye focused on him. The Mayor’s assistant finally smiled and inclined his head. “You choose to leave the hard way then. Fine. It will be my pleasure to take you down, Miller.”

“Get the hell out.” Rabb’s tone was deceptively quiet, almost mild.  Anyone who knew him would take that as a sign to get as far away from him as possible, as quickly as they could.

The Mayor’s assistant didn’t know Rabb nearly well enough. He turned toward the other side of the bar, where an extremely attractive blonde woman sipped iced tea in a booth and flipped through papers in a folder. “Ms. Dexter, the Mayor’s office will be contacting you shortly.”

She glanced up, her soft, green gaze radiating boredom. “Don’t waste your time, Glass. You don’t have a leg to stand on. Mr. Miller purchased this property legally and he has a right to be here.” She stood, striding toward Glass on long, shapely legs that caught the little man’s attention and held it. She stopped in front of him and reached a finger out to poke him on the chest. “And you’re about ten seconds away from dire consequences if you don’t leave the premises.”

“Are you threatening me?” Glass’s hand came up to grab her finger. It never made it that far. In the blink of an eye it was enclosed in a hard, unrelenting grip.  “Don’t. Ever. Touch.” Rabb bit each word off through a clenched jaw.

“I don’t need to threaten you, Mr. Glass." Tamma Dexter told him. "Someone else has already done that. Now go,” while walking is still an option.”

Glass looked from her to Rabb and forced a laugh. But it sounded more nervous than amused. “I’ll be back, Miller.”

“I’ll be sure to wear my funeral clothes. For when I lay you out.”

Stay tuned!

Sam's Sunday Snippet

Sick of heroes and on the run from angry gods, Bellona Fara, a Valkyrie, travels the country, running from her past and looking for a bad boy to love. At a paranormal bar in Santa Terra, California, a vampire bartender introduces her to fallen angel, Rael, who’s trying to atone for a single mistake that haunts his days and nights with regret. When an earthquake shakes the very foundations of life in Santa Terra, their growing feelings for each other will be sorely tested, as they try to fight their basic natures while dealing with things beyond their control.

~ Love Romances and More "...an entertaining and exciting story that will keep you scrolling and reading until the last word. The sexual tension is high and the love scenes might just melt your monitor so have a fan nearby." 

~~*~~

Bellona stared down the blade of her sword, her entire focus on the task at hand. Sweat rolled down her back, between her shoulder blades, and darkened the neckline of her tight, belly baring cami. She slashed sideways, spinning on one foot and completing the swing of her sword with a sharp upward cut that she envisioned would open her opponent’s gut. With a quick flick of her wrist, she changed direction to slice across her invisible opponent’s throat.

Bellona held the sword aloft, her eyes narrowing on the brisk flutter of butterfly wings ten feet away. The beautiful insects had been resting happily on the flower filled bush while she trained, their movements restricted to a gentle fluttering of their wings. So when they suddenly burst into the air and flew in agitated circles around the bush, she noticed.

Bellona swung around in a flash and stopped, the point of her deadly weapon settling perfectly into the tender skin of the intruder’s throat.

“Hey, Bella.”

Bellona frowned. “Why are you here, Kari?”

The woman was smaller than Bellona, tiny really, with shoulder length black hair and wide, olive colored eyes. She stood in a warrior’s stance, legs spread, arms held out slightly from her sides, a long, deadly sharp knife held loosely in each tiny fist. Despite the fact they were coven sisters, she hadn’t taken her visit to Bellona lightly.

No valkyrie worth her salt would take Bellona lightly.

Kari smiled, showing small, white teeth with slightly elongated canines. “Let’s not waste time on unnecessary conversation, Bella. You know why I’m here. I just stopped by to warn you I was here, as a matter of courtesy.”

Bellona pressed her sword lightly, drawing a bright bead of blood from her coven sister’s throat. Kari didn’t even flinch. A soft smile still played around her lips. “This is my territory, Kari. You have no business here.”

“Your territory? We weren’t aware you were still on the job.”

Bellona shrugged, non-committal. “I’m here, knee deep in heroes, what part of that don’t you understand, sister?”

“You don’t appear to be taking your job seriously, sister.” Kari’s hostile inflection on the intimate title showed her anger more than anything in her expression or stance. “As you play with your weapon, dozens of heroes could be taking their last breaths, and nobody’s there to guide them to Valhalla.”

Bellona snorted. “Am I to believe you only take them as they die? If that were true my stomach wouldn’t have been a giant knot for decades now. Odin’s eagerness to protect the gods has made him greedy. Humanity deserves to keep at least some of its heroes.”

Kari flipped a small hand dismissively. “The humans are mere cattle, to be harvested as the gods see fit. They deserve nothing.”

Bellona took a step closer, blood ran in a ribbon down the other valkyrie’s pale throat. She leaned close, biting off each word angrily. “And yet the gods lust for their powers, hide behind them to gain safety, indeed, trade their massive hearts for a chance at immortal life. It’s disgusting, Kari.”

Kari’s eyes softened with regret for the first time. It passed briefly. She’d been hardened by the gods’ frantic need, brain washed. She would never see what Bellona couldn’t help seeing as she walked among the humans.

Bellona finally dropped her sword and stepped away in disgust. “Go Kari, leave this town to me. Odin will have to look for his heroes elsewhere.”

Kari’s eyes widened. “You are taking these people under your protection?”

Panic swept through her at the thought. If she did she’d be declaring war on the gods, and her sisters in the coven as well. It was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. It was the reason she’d stayed on the move, keeping her heart closed off to avoid the passion she knew would be her downfall.

But something had changed. Something inside her had blossomed, opening her to the possibilities of doing what she deemed right. Despite the massive and deadly consequences. Bellona suddenly knew she didn’t want to run any more.

She had found her Ragnarök. She was going to take a stand.

“Yes, Kari. The people of Santa Terra are under my protection. Any sister who comes here intending to harm or carry off any of the town’s heroes will have to go through me to do it.”

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Sam's Sunday Snippets

Giant snakes, Hell-hounds, intergalactic police -- when can sexy shifters find time for love?

~~*~~

“Really?”  

A long, forked tongue slithered out of the sewer pipe and retreated back between a squared-off, light brown snout. “I got ssssscared.”

Detective Ralph Littlejohn put hands on hips and glanced toward his partner, the eminently biteable Detective Petra Kline. She pinched her lips together, shaking her head to send her silky brown bob swinging around her pretty face. Detective Kline hated snakes.

Hated. Them.

No way was she going to help him get the big shifter out of the drainpipe.

The pipe creaked, groaned, and the tongue slipped out again on a mighty sigh. Brent Bailey was well and truly stuck.

“What do you want me to do?” Littlejohn asked him. “I can’t exactly requisition the jaws of life for you.”

A suspicious snorting sound emanated from the area -- far, far away -- where Petra stood, half behind a large oak tree. “We could buy a case of spray oil and try to grease him up.”

Littlejohn glared at her. “That’s not helpful.”

“No. It’sssss not. Besssssidesssss, I’m allergic to olive oil.”

More snorting came from behind the tree. “I could try calling Blood.”

“I tried them earlier… before. They aren’t anssssswering their phonesssss.”

“Not as dumb as they look,” Littlejohn muttered.

“I heard that,” Bailey hissed.

Littlejohn shook his head. He stared at the stuck snake for a minute longer and then looked at the gravel road covering the pipe. Short of digging the whole thing up, Littlejohn didn’t have the faintest idea how to get Bailey free. “Can’t you shift back?”

“I tried. I’m too ssssstresssssed.”

“Not half as stressed as I am,” Littlejohn murmured.

“I heard that too.”

“Hmph.” He glanced at Petra again. “You’ve really got nothing for me here? Not a single idea?”

“Call Matt and Cliff. Maybe the three of you could shift, lift your legs, and pee on him to lubricate him.”

“Ssssso not helpful,” Bailey hissed.

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Sam's Sunday Snippets

Every year a write a new installment for my sexy Halloween Love novella series. I'm currently working on Book 4, Deep, Dark, Desire, expected publication date September 15th. Moon Burn is Book 2 in the series. I hope you enjoy this snippet!

About the series: My Halloween Love series follows the Lupire, a race of elite protectors with both werewolf and vampire in their bloodlines, and the beautiful black females of the Lupa Guardian pack. These two elite groups share a common goal...to protect the magical and human worlds from evil. What they don't realize...yet...is that their destinies are also intertwined under mating magic...the most powerful force any of them will ever encounter.

~~*~~

Before Bren knew what was happening his lips were touching hers. It was the gentlest of touches, barely there, but the effect was searing. Her nipples hardened and her thighs tightened on a wave of pure lust.

Time stopped. The sounds of the party beyond her office door faded to the background and were forgotten. Bren’s body surged into near painful awareness of the man sitting next to her. Her skin tingled with it, as if doused in magic drenched air.

His fingers touched her cheek and slipped, featherlike, toward her temple, where they slid into her hair and got caught, pulling strands from the braid she used to keep the soft curls at bay.

His breath was fire against her lips. The places where his skin touched hers burned. His scent, oh gods his scent… Bren felt faint. He pressed the kiss more firmly for just a second and then broke it, leaning slightly away. “Your skin’s on fire.”

Bren gulped, unable to tear her gaze away from his face. “Yes.”

“Are you all right?”

“No.”

“Should I call 911?”

Her response was to lean close and recapture his lips in a searing, knee melting kiss.

Micca reached up and tried to slide his fingers through her incredibly soft hair. They caught again on the braided strands. He found the elastic band at the ends and yanked it off, allowing the fragrant silk to slide heavily over his hand. He wrapped an arm around her waist and stood, pulling her up tight against his body, so that he could feel every softly padded curve on her long body.

God she was sexy. He’d been lusting after the tall, sexy black woman for weeks, and he’d been sure she felt the same way about him. Unfortunately, she’d worked too hard to avoid him and Micca had noticed. He’d never been one to push himself on a woman.

Even a woman whose aura screamed for him.

He almost came on the spot when she wrapped her long legs around his hips and arched her pubis into him, grinding against the hard ridge beneath his jeans. His tongue slipped inside her sweet mouth, tangling hungrily with hers.

He groaned as she captured his tongue between her teeth and nibbled, slipping an overheated palm up the inside of his shirt and gliding it over his skin to tweak a nipple.

The difference in their temperatures was stark. Micca had always run cool, where Bren cast heat away from her body like the sun emitted its rays. It was just one more thing to draw him in.

He reveled in her heat. 

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Sam's Sunday Snippets

If you're a Honeybun fan, this is where it all started. If you haven't "tasted" your first Honeybun yet, this is a good place to start. #:0) A fun, fast paced romantic suspense, A Honeybun and Coffee is Alastair and Angie's story. The snippet below is not part of any excerpts I've ever published for this book. It's brand new! Enjoy.

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RT Magazine gave A Honeybun and Coffee 4 Stars!
"...the adrenaline shot of the Honeybun brothers will definitely catch the attention of every romance reader out there. The first in the Honeybun Hunks series is a goodie. You will want one of these Honeybuns with your morning coffee!"

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The house was tiny, white, and non-descript in every way.  The yard was bare to the point of tacky, with patchy green grass that stood up in tufts here and there like somebody had forgotten to mow for a few weeks…or years.

Alastair easily found the key under a ratty old doormat that said, “Go away, I have a gun.”

“Subtle.”  Angie said.

Dust bunnies attacked them as they entered the front door and then danced around their feet in the breeze from outside.  Angie sneezed.  “Well, I guess I know what we’ll be doing first.”  She said with a wry smile.

“It’s not really like the movies is it? Where the house is clean and fully stocked and filled with competent looking guys with big guns?”

Angie grimaced, “Who nearly always get killed almost immediately because somehow the bad guys infiltrate the police department and find out where the good guys are holed up?”

Alastair nodded, “There is that.  So…what? You’re thinking since the house is dirty and unkempt and there are no guys with big guns we should be safe?”

“That’s what I’m thinkin’ yeah.”

They shared a smile. Walking through the tiny house they quickly got acclimated. There were only four rooms, five if you counted the tiny bathroom. Two bedrooms, a living room with a small, black and white TV, and a very small kitchen tucked into the very back of the house. The kitchen window had bars over it and the back door was solid metal, no window. “Stainless steel, very contemporary, with a warm patina of high security lock up about it.” Angie murmured.

Alastair, deciding humor was the best way to deal with the depressing little house, nodded and cocked his head, placing his hand on his chin as if considering decorating possibilities. “Yes, generally we see the stainless steel on the appliances rather than the exterior door, but I’m kind of partial to the puke green of the appliances myself and wouldn’t change them for anything.”

Angie cocked her head to mimic him and said, “Puke is not quite right, I think this shade is more snot or booger. With a tinge of Malaria mucus thrown in.”

Alastair laughed and walked over to the phone on the wall.  “Holy shit! It has a dial.”

Angie was busy opening cupboards and didn’t look at him. “Well I would hope it’s working! It wouldn’t do us much good otherwise.”

“No, I mean it has an actual dial on the front of it.” He picked up the receiver, puke green to match the appliances, and put it to his ear. “Shit! A dial but no dial tone. Perfect.”

Alastair hung up the phone and turned toward the front door. “I’d better lock up and set the alarm, just in case.”

Angie leaned against the scarred kitchen counter. Tears filled her eyes as a sudden feeling of homesickness swamped her. She hadn’t spoken to her sister for days and she’d had to abandon her coffee shoppe, which had been her life up until a few days earlier when the nightmare started. And now she had to stay in the grungy little pit of a house for days with nothing to do. She heard Alistair returning and quickly turned toward the refrigerator, swiping at her wet cheeks guiltily.

“We’re all locked up.” He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder as she peered into the refrigerator, more for a way to hide her red eyes than with any interest in its contents.

“Score!” Alastair reached past her and grabbed two bottles of beer. “We have beer, and I have a cell phone. We can call for pizza. The day is looking up.” When she just nodded, not trusting herself to speak, he stood silently behind her for a moment. She prayed he’d move away so she could get herself pulled together before turning around. 

But instead he moved closer. 

When he suddenly slid his arms around her waist Angie stiffened at the unexpected contact. However, she quickly realized that, although the contact was unexpected, it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. In fact it felt pretty damn good. She leaned back and allowed him to cradle her for a moment, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

Alastair leaned his head against the top of hers and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. It wasn’t his fault either. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I’m okay, I just get hit with these feelings every once in a while. I’ve been working through them.”

He nuzzled at her neck, just below her ear. “You’re pretty amazing you know that?”

And here she’d been feeling pretty stupid and weak. She shook her head again, afraid to speak for fear she’d break down into tears.

His lips gently worked the sensitive flesh of her neck, leaving behind warmth and a sense of loss when they moved on. The tears stopped as her body kicked into a new emotion and she found herself holding her breath, afraid that he’d stop. She closed her eyes and let herself relax completely against him, sighing. 

His lips worked their way up to her ear and she shivered as the warmth of his breath made a wisp of hair flutter against her cheek. Somewhere low on her body she started to clench and warm. Her mind let go of the fear and grabbed hold of the new, more welcome sensations of lust. Which was why when he whispered into her ear, his voice husky with emotion, she jumped and her eyes flew open.

“Just pepperoni or extra deep meat lover’s?”

Angie laughed and Alastair nipped gently at her ear lobe before letting go of her to step away.

She tried to ignore the way her body mourned the loss of him as he punched a single number into his cell phone.

“You have it on speed dial?”

He shrugged, “Hey, come on, I’m a single guy.  Where do you think those clichés come from?”

Angie laughed again and shook her head.  Suddenly the next few days seemed filled with possibility rather than just boredom and fear.  “Thin crust, green pepper and onion.”

He made a face, “Bleurg!  That’s a girl pizza.”

She shrugged and grinned at him.

Shaking his head he murmured, “I’ll order two pizzas then, a real one and one without testosterone.”

Angie continued to grin, “Salad too.”

Alastair looked as if somebody had stepped on his privates. But he ordered salad along with the two pizzas. 

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Sam's Sunday Snippet

Book 2 in Declan's Hoale Construction Mystery Series Releases Soon!

And here's a little taste...

A 200 year old manor house, a disputed suicide, and a cache of stolen jewelry. Somebody’s willing to kill to keep Adam from figuring it all out!

Mink climbed out of the little car and stood, his handsome face alight with delighted disgust as it turned to take in his surroundings. “Good god, I’ve been picked up and plopped down right smack in the middle of Deliverance. I’ll bet the bugs are big enough to carry you away out here. Did you see those attack birds? They look prehistoric. What are those things called…pterodactyls? They’re huge! Doesn’t anybody have a rifle? You should kill those mothers before they hurt somebody. I’ll do it if you don’t have the stomach.” He turned a look back toward the pond, where said prehistoric monsters appeared to be tending to their extremely ruffled feathers and enjoying a ray of sun at the edge of the water. “It would be my pleasure.”

“You’re not killing Mike and Sue.” Adam told him in a bemused voice. 

Beside Adam, Maddy appeared to be choking. 

Adam leaned against his truck and covered his mouth with one hand. 

Walter sauntered up from a visit to the side yard and screeched to a stop beside Adam, his nails scratching ruts in the sun-softened asphalt. The big dog whined. Cocked his head. And then started barking, his thick fringe of a tail drooping between his back legs. 

Mink frowned. “What’s wrong with Walter?”

Maddy’s choking worsened, to the point where Adam thought he might have to smack her on the back, if he didn’t choke to death himself first. “What exactly are you wearing Mink?”

Mink’s eyes widened and he looked down, as if surprised he was wearing anything at all. “Oh, these, yeah, I figured it would be pretty wild out here so I dressed for it.”

Maddy’s choking finally emerged in a laugh. “This isn’t a flood zone.”

Mink frowned, obviously not catching her meaning.

Adam jabbed his partner with an elbow. “What she means, Mink, old buddy, is that you’re wearing fishing waders. They’re meant for wading into creeks, not walking around country manors.”

Mink glared at them. “I’m not stupid…”

Maddy doubled over in an apparent fit of coughing. 

Walter inched closer, a low growl throbbing in his throat.

“I know they’re fishing waders. But they’re also impervious to bugs, snakes, and raccoon teeth. Ted’s Sports was selling them at fifty percent off. I couldn’t resist.”

“Next time resist!” Maddy managed in a strangled voice before snorting in a less than ladylike way. 

Standing just about as far away as he could and still reach Mink, Walter poked his nose way out and sniffed the thick green rubber of the realtor’s footwear. 

“You think you’re gonna be attacked by a raccoon? In broad daylight?” Adam gave in and laughed with Maddy. “You’re a kook.”

Mink rolled his eyes. “Only the rabid ones. They wander around during the day until some kind soul puts them out of their misery. So…we’re back to that gun.”

Walter’s tail finally started wagging and he stepped closer, sniffing all up and down Mink’s legs.

“You’re very bloodthirsty today, Mink.” Maddy said, drying her eyes. 

Mink shrugged. “I’m a little out of my comfort zone in the country. You might have noticed.” Mink’s natural good humor asserted itself and He grinned.

Walter lifted his leg on one of the tall, rubber trees and peed. 

Mink was oblivious. 

“I suppose the dumb-fuck hat is part of your anti-rodent, anti-reptile protection too?” Adam threw Maddy a grin as she snorted out another laugh.

Mink wore a dark blue, large billed hat that tied beneath his chin. It looked like something a woman might wear on a boat at sea…if she didn’t care that she looked like an idiot. 

“Blood sucking ticks,” Mink clarified with a nod.

Adam knew he shouldn’t do it but he couldn’t resist. “There’s nothing there to protect you from coyotes.”

Mink’s gray-blue eyes widened and he grew pale under the dumb-fuck hat. “Coyotes?”

“Stop it, Adam.” Maddy strode forward and took Mink’s arm. “He’s just teasing you. There aren’t any coyotes around here.” She threw Adam a warning look. “I’m really glad you’re here, though. We just found out there’s an old slave cabin somewhere on the property. Adam and I are going to go try and find it.”

Mink’s face flared into horror. “Out there!” He threw an arm covered in long denim sleeves vaguely in the direction of the woods. “You want me to go into the wild and wooly wilderness to look for the rotted remains of a cabin?”

Adam wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “That’s exactly what we want you to do. Besides, look at you. Nothing could possibly get to you through all those clothes and…things.”

“But aren’t you going to show me the house first?” Mink asked in a slightly hysterical tone. 

Maddy shook her head. “You can’t go into the house just yet. Not until your rubber dries.”

“My rubber…what the hell are you talking about, Mads?”

Adam and Maddy just laughed.

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Sam's Snippet Sunday

I'm very excited about this fun spoof on The Biggest Loser reality show! I hope you enjoy this little taste and will check the book out on Thursday when it releases!

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Personal trainer for the ever popular, Lose it! reality show, Jillie Maxwell is up for the most important award of her career. And she’s competing against the biggest b-eye-itch she’s ever met. Fortunately for her, she has the sexiest man alive in her corner. Problem is, each and every one of them has a dirty little secret that could tank a career.

For the contestants, the race is on to lose the most weight and win everything. For the staff of the popular weight loss show, the clock is ticking to the culmination of their lies and the possibility of losing it all.

Will the Biggest Poser win? Or will the lies just grow and grow until they sink the whole show? Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens, it’s gonna be an entertaining ride!

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 “Those look delicious.”

Brandt glanced up, smiling. “They are. I’ve spent a lot of time working up recipes for desserts that taste fattening but aren’t. For most people giving up desserts is the hardest part of dieting. I’m trying to make it just a little bit easier.”

Jillie nodded, eyeing the palm-sized delicacies with frosting trickled over them. “It certainly is for me. I love sweets.”

Brandt dug a coin from the bottom of the last pastry and then stopped, a devilish look making his eyes shine. The muscle in his forearm flexed and the pastry split into two pieces in his big hand. “Oops. I broke it. I guess we might as well eat this one.”

Jillie’s gaze slipped upward, finding his. She captured her velvety bottom lip between even, white teeth, her eyes sparkling. “I shouldn’t.”

He nodded. “You really should. You’re gonna need all the energy you can muster to get through the next few months with the evil Deva.”

Jillie laughed, shaking her head. “She is a handful.”

“Attila the Hun was a handful. This woman’s a demon. She trails brimstone fumes in her wake.”

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