Here is a snip from Des and Connie’s story. Enjoy!

Connie drifted on the edge of waking, feeling utterly relaxed. Something poked at her mind, something that wanted to disturb her, but she was curled too comfortably on her side to want to let it in. For the first time in weeks she felt deliciously warm. She wanted to savor the feeling. When she tried to tug the edge of the blanket higher under her chin it snapped taut and didn’t move. She tugged harder with the same level of success. Frustrated, she rolled onto her back to free it and realized she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes a slit and found herself nose-to-nose with Des.

That woke her up in a hurry, the feeling of warm relaxation fleeing. Des? What the hell was he doing in bed with her? He had the nerve to smile at her.

“Good morning,” he said, and his voice was rough with that sexy, just-woke-up gravel note in it that made her want to melt.

Connie refused to melt. Des was gorgeous, sexy, and smelled good enough to eat, but why was he in her bed?

Yes, today I have one of each! The Truth is that the Mid Summer Dream Men Blog Hop is this weekend, Friday July 19-Sunday July 21. There are going to be great prizes, so drop in at www.JustRomance.me to come along on the hop!

And I have a teaser from Des and Connie’s story. This snip is from chapter 2. It’s visitation night and Connie would rather be anywhere than here, but she feels obligated to stay. She’s leaning against the wall beside the kitchen door, watching the flirting and maneuvering with distaste. Enjoy!

Katie, the blonde who shared Connie’s apartment with Kathy, was at the nearest stove. She laughed loudly and playfully slapped the shoulder of one of her current boyfriends. Connie mentally shook her head. Katie was one of the women who enjoyed all the male attention. She and JaNae loved flirting with the men who tried to outdo each other in their lavish gifts and compliments. Katie’s voice rose above the low murmur of voices.

     “I need the little girl’s room,” she told the six men hovering around her, flashing them a flirtatious smile. “I’ll be right back. Don’t any of y’all fight while I’m gone, hear?”

     She detached herself from the cluster and gestured for Sammie to join her. The younger woman jumped up and abandoned her admirers without a backward glance. Katie paused to grin at Connie, who raised one brow. “Why do you flirt with them like that?” she asked.  “And why are you using that southern accent? I thought you’re from Minnesota.”

    Katie’s cheeks turned pink, then her grin flared bigger. “It’s fun.”

     “Are you ever going to actually pick one and marry him?”

      Katie shrugged. “Someday, I guess I will. But I’m enjoying myself too much to settle down with one yet.” Her hand smoothed down the curve of her waist to her wide hip and down to her thigh. “After twenty-eight years of being too fat to attract a man it’s a rush to have dozens of men fighting over me.” She winked and grabbed Sammie’s arm to tow her through the kitchen door toward the outhouse in the yard.

     That was one thing Connie did like about the men here. They didn’t judge a woman solely by her slender body. They liked big women even better than skinny women, but every woman, no matter her age, looks, or size, found herself the object of blatant admiration.

Poor Jelly. his name is now Spotted Stone Wolf, but his mate mockingly refers to him as Spot.

Poor Stone. Snared by a pair of pansy brown eyes as hot and wild as a prairie fire, and almost as gentle. What does a wolf have to do to get a little petting? Apparently, getting shot twice in the belly is just the ticket.

     The bedsprings groaned under him as he stretched one arm above his head to test the torn muscles in his belly. Searing pain told him he wouldn’t be getting up for a while. Footsteps, light and quick, tapped in the hall outside the bedroom and the door opened. His mate came to the bed and scowled down at him. Ah, yes, that was his sweet mate.

“When someone points a gun at you, you’re supposed to move,” she said, brows pulled straight over narrowed eyes.

“I did!” he protested.

“Away from it, Spot, you idiot, not toward it.”

Spot. He hated when she called him that. Time for a little payback. “The gun was pointed at you, little girl. I had to stop the bullet.”

The way she clenched her jaw at his nickname for her made him want to grin. She huffed. “With your stomach?”

He almost forgot his wound but remembered just before he would have shrugged in a show of nonchalance. “It was handy.”

“You idiot,” she murmured, leaning over the bed to stroke his tangled hair. “You idiot.”

Here is a bit from chapter 1. It’s raw and I may re-write it (again). I want enough detail that those who have never read the series can figure out what’s going on, but I don’t want to bore readers who have read the series. In other words, I want to build the world but make it part of the story. Anyway, here you go. Connie is staring at a hand drawn calendar and talking with Kathy, one of the survivors.

Connie stopped dead on her trek across the kitchen to stare at the calendar on the wall. Today was Monday, December 29, 2064.

Kathy stopped too. “It’s been exactly two months, hasn’t it?” she asked quietly. “The plane took off on October 29.”

“Yeah.” While she stared blindly at the calendar, Connie’s mind drifted back to that day. The vertical wind shear they hit was so strong it disabled the plane. Inexplicably, all engines failed simultaneously.  Like every pilot, she and Don had trained for every emergency imaginable and they worked calmly and quickly to retake control of the plane. Nothing had worked. The plane had screamed a metallic protest under the stress of air currents, and finally, broken, had come down to earth in a barely controlled crash that left too few alive. If only …

Connie shook her head briskly. It never did her any good to review the sequence of events from that morning, so she shoved the memory away. Besides, it just made her headache worse. She made herself glance around the room, noting rush of women cooking lunch. Good. Maybe some food would tame her headache.

Kathy leaned closer to speak in a low voice. “You should stop blaming yourself. You and the captain did everything you could.”

“Not enough.” Connie heard the bleakness in her voice. “Too many died.”

“You’re not being fair to yourself. Some of us did survive.”

Her laugh came out of her throat like cheese scraped over a grater. “Thirty out of a hundred and two.”

Kathy squeezed her forearm. “That’s thirty who still have lives. Probably more would have died, if we hadn’t gotten help from the Lakota. Heaven was looking out for us. The Lakota nursed us through and they brought us here to Kearney, where the mayor gave us a safe place to live.”

Connie refrained from asking why heaven didn’t look out for the seventy-two who hadn’t made it. “It’s safe because we’re surrounded by a barbed wire fence patrolled by armed guards. Women being so rare that we’re like gold in a bank vault.”

“Or water in a desert.” Kathy brayed with laughter. “When you’re my age, it’s nice to have younger men panting over you, wanting to lick you up and down.”

Connie closed her eyes. “Stop! Do not put that image in my head.”

      Tomorrow I’m off to Lori Foster’s Annual Reader & Author Get Together in Ohio! I received Wolf’s Prize back from the publisher with a request to make a few changes before they offer me a contract. My goal was to have it turned back in before I left, but I’ve been so busy getting ready for the trip that I haven’t finished the changes yet. One of the changes is the title. Wolf’s Prize will be Ellie’s Wolf instead. When I have signed the contract I’ll make updates throughout the website.

      Meanwhile, here is a conversation between Ellie and Rose:

      Rose wiped the heel of her hand over her eyes. Like many fair skinned people her face was blotched red from her tears, but the blue of her blue-gray eyes was more vivid. “You’re here now. Sky got Taye’s letter, but he didn’t come for the funeral.”

      Resentment edged Rose’s voice. Ellie tried to find the right words. “Did you want him to come? Do you want to marry him?”

     “No! Yes! Oh, lord, I don’t know.” Rose sprang up from the bed to pace. “Six years ago I’d rather have married a tarantula. But I want a baby and unless there’s a miracle, I won’t have one unless Sky comes back.”

Late as usual, but better late than never, right? Here is a snip from Ellie and Quill’s story.

After they ate, Quill spoke to the men in a low voice. A few glances were directed her way, accompanied by nods and smiles. In only a few minutes most of the men melted into the darkness, taking Tommy and Connor with them. Only Snake and Stone stayed to watch over Sara and Mel while they cleaned the dishes. Ellie moved to join them, but Quill stepped in front of her.

“Let’s walk for a few minutes before bed.”

Ellie swallowed and nodded. They were alone. It didn’t frighten her, exactly. She draped the blanket over her shoulders like a wrap against the chilly air of the evening and walked beside him out of their small camp. “Where did everyone go?”

He put an arm around her waist. “They’re not far. I asked them to give us a little time alone.”

Alone. In the dark. With Quill. Ellie tried to slow her breathing. “Why?”

He pulled her to a stop and lifted her hands to his mouth to kiss each palm.”You know why. You brought a blanket.”

Eddie’s Prize comes out in a little over a month. At last! I am hoping to be able to show off the cover art soon. I saw the first draft of it and I think it is beautiful.

Here is a snip from Eddie’s Prize. Christmas Eve 2064:

Eddie washed dishes as she tidied up the kitchen. Through the kitchen window Lisa could see snow falling through the dark night. It was a scene out of an old fashioned Christmas card.

“It’s pretty,” she said. At Eddie’s raised brow she elaborated. “The snow. We didn’t get snow in California. It makes it seem a little more like Christmas.”

He hung up the dish towel to dry. “It’s Christmas Eve. Our first Christmas together.” His kiss was gentle. “I know you were a little disappointed to not be able to go see your friend, but I wanted you to myself this time.”

Lisa’s hands framed his face. “Carla is a good friend, but Christmas is for families. You’re my family.”

“Come to bed,” he breathed.

She giggled when he swept her up and carried her to their bed. “I should brush my teeth before bed,” she mock protested.

“Tomorrow.” He peeled her clothes off her with careful haste.

She kicked her feet to rid her legs of the jeans still clinging. “I should wash my face,” she teased.

He made short work of his own clothing. “Tomorrow,” he repeated.