MY SEXY SATURDAY #98! - DEE ANN PALMER - MIDNIGHT RIDER

Can you believe this? The authors in this blog hop have been doing this for 98 weeks. We plan a big celebration when we hit #100, so stay with us.

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The story behind Midnight Rider —

Several years ago, I was on an epublishing panel at Left Coast Crime in Monterey, CA. Afterward, I overheard a woman on the panel who was in my Romance Writers of America chapter in Orange County, CA, mention to an aspiring writer that Amber Quill Press was holding a contest for erotic short stories. Mind you, my friend didn't tell me about it. Apparently she didn't think I was the type.

I was multi-published in fiction and non-fiction, but had only had a first romance novel out. I'd had some success with contests, and I wondered if I could write erotic. Well, if you don't try, you'll never know, will you? Dark Stranger was a winner. I've now reduced the erotic parts to sensual, lenthened it, gotten a new cover and retitled it.

From Midnight Rider...

The scene: Jenny has sneaked out to leave the rancho permanently. She's riding in the dark on Conquistador, a sturdy gelding.


Jenny glanced again at the figure behind her. It wasn't Soltero. Soltero was shorter and broader than the man behind her. This rider was tall. Clothed in black, the stranger wore a black mask and a hat with a flat crown and a wide brim pulled low on his forehead. A dark cloak flared out behind him.

He rode like Satan himself. 

A bandido. A bandit who would rob, ravish, and kill her or sell her into slavery...

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Have a great week!

From Curly Girl Design —

"If we are very lucky, we will have spent some of our life being owned by a cat." 





 

MY SEXY SATURDAY - DEE ANN PALMER

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This is a re-do of my first erotic male-female romance. I've toned down the eroticism to sensual, and I expect to release this short story this summer, probably before A Night to Remember comes out. (I really do write contemporary stories, too!)

Copyright © 2015 Dee Ann Palmer

Cover Design © 2015 by Carey Abbott

http://www.amazon.com/Dee-Ann-Palmer/e/B00BLWLV6I/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1433577015&sr=1-2-ent

The Setting: California, 1834. Jenny, a foreigner hired as companion to his aunt, has rescued Rafael from a violent storm, and they're in a small house where the vaqueros caught in similar storms can shelter. She has removed his clothes and dried him.

    

     Rubbing her hands together, she realized she was cold, too. It was important to get out of her wet clothes before cold turned to chill. She'd brought clothing for Rafael but nothing for herself. Dust triggered a sneeze as she lifted the lid of the trunk, but rummaging through it she found a worn coverlet for the bed and an old dress that must have belonged to either Lucita or a servant. Removing her damp clothing, she slipped into the dress. It was warmer than her wet clothes and unrestricting. Her feet she left bare.

     Returning to Rafael, alarm surged through her because his blanket shook. He shivered uncontrollably, teeth chattering. Jenny pulled the coverlet from the trunk, and rolling him toward her and onto his side, she reached over his back to spread the cover over that half of the straw. Then, before settling on him on his back, she rolled him away from her and onto his other side while she tugged the remaining half of the cover underneath and free of him. Now he was protected from the rough, cold straw.

     Still he shivered. Hesitating over what she knew would help, a moan from him made up her mind. Sliding under the blanket with him, she pulled his cold body close and held him tight. After some minutes, the shaking had not stopped, so she rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him. Stretching her body the full length of his, she settled on him. . .

 
WATCH FOR IT SOON

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Original, erotic version was one of eleven winners, and I've been writing for them ever since.

MY SEXY SATURDAY - IN EVERY AGE THE HEART LOVES

These free reads begin here, then hop to http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.com for the work of other authors. We select 7 words, sentences or paragraphs that are sexy in one way or another.

In the scene below, Don Miguel Navarro has completed a cooling, restful swim in pond after a tiring day on his vast rancho. He joins his land manager for the ride back to the hacienda.

“I am not anxious to return to the house. Let’s take it at a walk,” Miguel said.

Stalking Elk nodded.

Riding side by side, they traveled in silence for a time, and then the older man, who had worked for Miguel’s father, spoke, his voice tinged with disgust. “I caught Señorita Valdez trying to peek, Jefe. I sent her away.”

Stalking Elk always called him Jefe—chief—rather than don.

“Ah, Señorita Rosita Valdez,” Miguel replied.

Shaking his head, he sighed at the thought of the hot, turbulent méjicano. Peeking was so like her. Inwardly he smiled, but it was a dry smile. Even when he was younger, and free, he hadn’t sampled what Rosita had hinted he could have. Although he admitted he’d come close once, in the days after his parents, aunt and uncle had been massacred in a raid by marauding Indians three years earlier. Led by a rogue Paiute warrior named Red Hawk, the group of outcast Indians and whites had swept down through the mountain pass to the north, stealing cattle and horses, slaughtering men and women in their path.

Miguel had been in El Pueblo, and the shock of returning to find his parents dead had cloaked his mind in a miasma of anger, pain, and helplessness. The burden of running the ranch had settled with sudden heaviness on his young shoulders, and he had almost, but not quite, yielded to Rosita’s charms.

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