Sly “Bullhorn” Brodsky by Jean Joachim

Hey everyone! Today my dear friend Jean Joachim is taking over my blog to talk about her new release, Sly “Bullhorn” Brodsky . If you know me you know I have a soft spot in my heart for O-lineman since I raised one!

Jean will be giving away a $10 Amazon! All you have to do is comment below. The winner will be chosen tomorrow morning. So leave a comment for a chance to win!




AUTHOR – Jean C. Joachim

GENRE – Contemporary/Sports Romance

PUBLICATION DATE – Nov. 16, 2015

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 66,900 words

PUBLISHER – Moonlight Books

COVER ARTIST – Dawne Dominique


Sly “Bullhorn” Brodsky wished winning the heart of Samantha Drake was as easy as protecting his quarterback. A top offensive lineman in the NFL, Bull tried to live down his rep as a womanizer. Locker room chatter had elevated him to the level of “player” in more than football. But Samantha Drake, dark-haired, stunning sister of a teammate, didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Or did she?

On his best behavior, Bull pulled out all the stops to woo the reluctant beauty. He was making progress until a woman from his past reappeared. Tiffany, the one woman who broke his heart, is in trouble. Is Bull the only man who can help?

Samantha is overcoming her doubts about Bull until Tiffany arrives. Is the blonde really in hot water or does she just want another chance with the man she discarded?

Enjoy the return of your favorite First & Ten characters in this book, too. Surprises, twists, and football action scenes will keep you turning the pages.


“I’m grubby. I need a shower,” she said, pushing to her feet to glance in the mirror.

The next image to take over his mind was stepping into a steamy shower behind Samantha. He blinked a few times and took a deep breath, hoping his thoughts wouldn’t inspire an erection.

“You okay? Were the boxes too much?” Her dark, chocolate brown eyes held concern.

He laughed. “You kiddin’? That’s nothin’. I take down guys ten times that weight in every game. Geez. What do you think? I’m a pussy or something?”

She made a face.

“Sorry. I need to clean up my words.” He sensed color in his face. He’d never had a girlfriend like Samantha Drake. She was smart, beautiful, and nice. She did volunteer work at the New Life Shelter for battered women and kids. But she wasn’t his girlfriend, only a friend. With no benefits. He sighed.

“My brother, Devon, talks like that too. You’d think football players never went to college.” She handed him a cold bottle of water.

He downed the liquid. “What’s next?”

She turned around in the room and sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Bed, books, clothes, rocking chair. Hmm. How many boxes are still in the car?”


“Then that’s it. The place looks pretty empty.” She perched on the mattress, tucking her feet under her.

“You’ll have it furnished before you know it. Come on. I’m gonna bring those boxes up then take you out to dinner.”

“Thanks. Be right back.” Her thousand-watt smile turned his innards to jelly.

He sat in the rocking chair while Samantha washed the dirt off her luscious body. Or what he assumed was luscious. Sylvester “Bullhorn” Brodsky, known to his teammates as “Bull,” had the hots for Samantha Drake, and it was keeping him up nights. While he waited for her to want him back, his imagination ran through a half dozen things he’d like to do to her under the warming spray of hot water. She was a little slip of a thing, and he was huge. Six foot three inches tall and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle, the offensive lineman could lift her up with one hand.


1. Denial of their physical attraction crumbled in the dead of the night, when truth can’t be easily sidestepped. She’d noticed him the first time he’d passed in the hallway. Then the second time, when on a search for her brother, she’d spied Sly draped in nothing but a towel in the locker room. Embarrassment had filled her cheeks as she’d scurried outside to wait for Devon. The lineman had simply laughed, showing no modesty at all.

 Sly Brodsky. Bull. Did she want him? Sam smiled to herself. Of course, she did. But she wasn’t about to tell anyone, especially him. She could barely admit it to herself. He appeared content to wait, which was fine with her. She enjoyed being in control. Still, to be honest, she wouldn’t make him wait forever. Only as long as she could stand to back away, even when she longed to lose herself in his arms and let him take her home.

2. Bull shifted his weight. Blood rushed to his face, and his palms sweated. “This friend thing is great. But I’m interested in more than that. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Maybe. Don’t you have a girlfriend?” She tilted her head back to make eye contact.

“Nope. I haven’t dated anyone more than a couple of times in a long time.”

“Huh? I’m surprised. Thought football players had women crawling all over them.”

“Not the kind of women I want. I’m looking for a real woman, not a hook-up.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And what’s a ‘real woman’ like?”

“One-of-a-kind, like you.”



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Tuesday Tales – Gold


Hi everyone! Welcome back to Tuesday Tales! Remember my old friends Gideon and Emma from my Steampunk Romance? They’re back! Our word this week is “gold”. Let’s see how I used it!

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The morning sun pooled on the wood floor like melted gold. Gideon tugged on one boot then the other. The shift of the bed was followed by a touch that sent a jolt through him. He turned to look in Emma’s sleepy eyes.

“Are you leaving me?” she breathed.

“Absolutely not. Quite the opposite. We have company arriving. I can meet them outside if you wish not to dress.”

“Who is visiting?”

“Edgar. He is bringing something to me. Hopefully he will have news about Katarina and the humidor also.”

Emma tossed the covers off her and hopped off the mattress. Gideon chuckled. “I take it you’re getting dressed?”

Emma’s gaze was pure sin. “Only to get undressed again when Edgar leaves.”

A growl escaped Gideon’s throat. “I am all right with that.”

The crunch of snow and the whistle of steam outside distracted him. He stood, pulled the half naked Emma to him for a slow, deep kiss then slipped on his coat. He stepped outside into the cold.

Edgar was bent across the seat of his carriage in search of something. With a grin, he climbed the steps and handed the bottle to Gideon. “Only the best for you, friend.”

Gideon stared down at the emerald green bottle on absinthe. “Thank you.”

The door opened again and shut. “You had Edgar come all this way for alcohol?” Emma questioned indignantly.

Gideon held the bottle up. “My love, I am going to make magic happen with this.”

She kissed him. “We have been making magic happen without it.”

“The journey is not a total loss, Emma.” Edgar smiled at her. “I have news. Katarina has planned a birthday celebration for her husband a week from Saturday. At that time she will present him with the humidor. It looks like your return to London is nigh.”

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Tuesday Tales – Glass


Hey everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales. Ok, I fibbed last time. This is our last week with Sloan and Abbey in Family Ties. They are still on the hunt to find their daughter Ame and her friend Dakota who were abducted by men working for the Butcher.

Don’t forget to check out the other incredible Tuesday Tales excerpts!


The whiskey burned as it slid down Sloan’s throat. The sensation brought comfort. He slammed the shot glass down on the oak stained bar then motioned to the bartender for another.

Words swirled around his head. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make them go away. He could hear both Liam and Gordon forbid him from having a family. It was dangerous. They would be used for collateral. He could hear Abbey accuse him of this whole mess.

She didn’t need to. The moment he realized Ame was gone he blamed himself. He had every second since. “You were right, lads,” he mumbled to himself. “Getting married, falling in love. Huge mistake.”

“How many have you had?” a deep voice from behind chastised. Robert slumped onto the barstool beside him.

“Five,” Sloan said just before slamming another shot of whiskey. He set the glass in his hand on the bar beside the others. That’s six.”

“How is getting drunk going to rescue the kids?”

“Everything else we tried failed. Why not try this?” Sloan waved to the bartender for another.

Robert stood and stopped the man. “Ginger ale.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Sloan demanded.

“Stopping you from making a huge mistake,” Robert answered simply. “What happened?”

Sloan exhaled slowly. “Abbey blamed me for Ame’s abduction. Gordon and Liam warned me about a family. I should have listened.”

“So you’re saying you wished you never met Abbey?”

Sloan sat in silence. “No. There is no life without her. Hearing her accuse me with such hate…” His words trailed off as he shook his head.

“We’ll find Ame, Sloan.” Robert looked at him, puzzled. “Where’s that photo you found in Prague?”

Sloan dug in his pocket and slapped it on the table. Robert picked it up to study it. After a few seconds he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Sloan questioned.

“I know why your wife came unglued.”

Sloan took a sip of the ginger ale. “Enlighten me.”

Robert flipped the picture around towards him. “It’s you and Heidi.”

“I know. I have no idea how the Butcher got that picture. I’m pretty sure that’s the only time we were within a hundred feet of each other in public. It was certainly the only time we were affectionate.”

“Right. You were affectionate. She saw a couple in love. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen Abbey insecure and jealous. Did you see it tonight?”

A smirk graced Sloan’s lips. “Aye. I’m surprised I didn’t recognize that little demon when it struck.”

“Like I said, it’s been awhile. She’s upset over the abduction. But the idea of you happily in another woman’s arms? That’s really your issue.”

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Bad Boy Blog Hop!


Welcome to the Bad Boy Blog Hop!

Now, I have to admit. I’m a sucker for the Bad Boy. And I write a lot of them!

And coming next week to e-book retailers near you – my re-release of Innocent ’til Proven Guilty!

**Prize alert – Comment below to win a $5 Amazon gift card! I’ll pick a winner Saturday morning.**

Now to meet my 1940’s Bad Boy, Frankie!


Is Frankie O’Carney guilty of stealing Livvy Randall’s heart – or is he guilty of murder?

Livvy Randall won’t let anything stop her chance at a journalism career in Chicago.  That is until the passenger train she is riding in breaks down in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, a town not much bigger than her home in Lincoln, Nebraska.  She acquires a room at the Hotel Montrose where she meets the devilishly handsome Frankie O’Carney, an Irish bad boy working in maintenance at the hotel.

When Frankie is accused of murdering the wealthy H.M. Goodrich, Livvy does everything she can to clear his name.  With danger at every turn, Livvy searches for answers to the questions plaguing her.  Is Frankie with the quiet, brooding Poppy?  Why, when the Irishman is near, does her heart beat out of control?  Will she get out of Cedar Rapids and back on the train to Chicago with her heart intact?  And – is Frankie really innocent…or is he guilty?

Now for an excerpt!

One lone lamp lit my hotel room. It had easily been the longest day of my life. I let go a long, sad sigh. I had been stranded in a strange town, spent more money than I had desired to stay for the night, and had been assaulted by some wild woman’s hips.

Oh. And I think I fell in love.

Tears burned my eyes again. I was trying to forget about that.

I pulled back the comforter encasing the bed and crawled beneath the sheets. I closed my eyelids tight. I wished to the depths of my soul that sleep would claim me. Because all I could think of was Frankie and his thick, black hair and his beautiful, blue eyes. I wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms.

In school, I had never been to a petting party. Truthfully, I had ridiculed the girls in my dormitory who had gone. I had told them that nothing would come from them locked tight to a young man’s lips.

Had Frankie invited me to a petting party, I would have been there in a heartbeat. I shook my head violently to dispel the thought. Frankie had a girl. It was time to get rid of him. Still, I felt another piece of my heart break.

A loud bang echoed through my room. The hopeless romantic in me was quickly replaced by the investigative reporter. I could trust her more, anyhow. I hopped out of bed, wrapped my robe over my flannel nightgown, and ventured out into the hallway.

It seemed that the noise had attracted nearly everyone. The burliest of the men congregated around the doorway not far from mine. The women and children huddled near their rooms. I squared my shoulders and stomped down the hall, weaving my way through the men.

My stomach turned at the sight. I wish I had stayed in my room.

H.M. Goodrich, the gentleman I had met earlier, lay motionless on the floor, three crimson stains blossoming rapidly against his starch white shirt. He wasn’t breathing. He was certainly dead.

Standing over him in only a pair of trousers was my Frankie. A gun dangled precariously from his right hand. He shook like a leaf in a tornado. My instincts demanded I go to comfort him. But he had just murdered—

“There he is, officer!” Vivian shrieked over the murmurs of the crowd. “That’s the man who murdered my husband!”

I watched in horror as the constable latched the heavy cuffs onto Frankie’s wrists. As I met Frankie’s terrified gaze with my own, I frowned. Something didn’t add up. I thought about my lunch in the Iowa Room. I worked past the couple to the meal Frankie ate.

My heart raced as I ran back to my room. I quickly tossed off my nightwear and redressed in the clothes I had worn earlier that day. I couldn’t waste time.

The constable had arrested the wrong man. I just needed to prove it.

A thick blanket of humidity smothered me as I ran beneath the dim light of the electric street lamps. My shoes clicked relentlessly against the pavement with each of my strides. The Cedar River rumbled beneath my feet as I crossed the bridge to the jail.

I took a moment to catch my breath before I stormed into the prison. I was stopped before I stepped two feet inside the door. I was face-to-face with the sheriff himself.

“How can I help you tonight, miss?” the burly official growled.

I squared my shoulders back and narrowed my eyes. There was no use for frivolous emotions like love right now. There was too much at stake. “I’m here to post bail for Frankie O’Carney.”

The sheriff’s laughter echoed off the walls. His deputies joined in the guffaw. It must have been the best joke they’d heard all week. I fought the snarl from my face. “Miss, Frankie O’Carney committed murder.”

“Frankie is innocent. I can prove it to you,” I insisted.

Well, that statement was far more humorous than the last. Some of the officials were even dabbing tears from their eyes at his point. “I’m sorry, Miss…”

“Olivia. Olivia Randall.” I wasn’t about to allow these buffoons the opportunity to use my preferred name.

“Miss Randall, Frankie O’Carney is as guilty as the day is long.”

I stepped up, stretching my small frame until I was nearly nose-to-nose with the sheriff. “Innocent ‘til proven guilty. Isn’t that how it goes? Or is the court system run differently here in Iowa than the rest of the U. S. of A?”

It was the sheriff’s turn to snarl. And snarl he did. “O’Carney is set to appear before the judge in the morning. Bail, if there is any, will be set then.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll see you gents in the morning.” I turned around and strode away.

My bravado deflated outside the door. The thought that Frankie had to spend the night in this dismal place broke my heart. I shuffled quietly back to the hotel.

As I stepped inside Hotel Montrose, I collided with another large body. I nearly lost my balance. I frowned as I looked up. The train conductor with whom I’d had my first disagreement with earlier that morning hovered over me.

“Well, look who we have here,” he sneered. “Good news, miss. The part we needed was in Des Moines. The engine is fixed. We leave in the morning. I expect to see your shining face in your seat at eight o’clock.”

I muttered my thanks as tears burned my eyes. Could I really give up my dreams, everything I had worked so hard to achieve, for a hellion with a girlfriend?

I already knew the answer to that question. A sob escaped my throat. How would I learn to live with my decision?

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Tuesday Tales – Steel

Hey everyone! Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This is most likely the last week I will bring you an excerpt from Family Ties (I’m sorry!). I hope to begin again on my Steampunk tale next week.

Don’t forget to check out the other awesome Tuesday Tales blogs!  

Abbey glanced over her shoulder to watch the rest of the team disperse. She took a deep breath. Hopefully in a few moments she would be reunited with her daughter. Readjusting her earpiece, she waited for the word from Gordon.

“Are you all in position?” Gordon queried, his deep brogue breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Abbey answered into her microphone.

“Aye,” Sloan followed.

“Yeah,” both Bartholomew and Robert chimed in.

“Si,” Logan finished. Abbey rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to be the jokester. Logan still got giddy as a kid when they went on a mission. Must have watched too many spy movies as a kid.

“Then proceed carefully. I want you all back in one piece. Understand?”

Abbey snuck closer to the large warehouse door. Her assignment was easy and the same as with every mission – get high as possible. The men would take the fire fight on the floor. Even though she knew the primary reason she was sent up there was to keep her out of harm’s way, it gave her the best place to do what she did best, just set up her sniper rifle and disarm threats. Easy peasy.

She slipped around the door and pressed to the wall. Her eyes darted to find higher ground. Instead what she saw made her heart drop. The warehouse was deserted except for two empty cages with steel bars. The long string of curse words coming from her husband through her earpiece told her the others discovered the same thing.

“What’s going on?” Gordon demanded.

“They’re gone,” Robert reported. “No kids, no bad guys. Just two empty cages.”

“Are you certain?”

“Each of us came through every possible opening. Yeah, no one is here.”

“They got the jump on us and we have no idea where they went,” Sloan barked.

“Not necessarily,” Bartholomew answered. He slung the pack off his back and pulled out his tablet. “Let me see what I can find.”

Abbey dropped her rifle to her side as she approached the cages. Studying them, she kneeled when she caught sight of a photo lying on the floor of one. “Sloan!”

He jogged over to her. “What is it, luv?”

She picked up the photo and handed it to him. “Why is a picture of us in Sydney at the complex grand opening lying here in this cage?”

He frowned as he looked at it. “I don’t know.”

“I’ve got something,” Bartholomew interrupted as he crossed the warehouse floor to them with Robert and Logan on his heels. “According to the Sydney International Airport, the same plane that brought them here took off about a half hour before we arrived here. They’re heading to Bangkok, Thailand. I’m going to verify they really got on the plane. Sydney Airport is sending footage to me.”

“Bangkok, Thailand?” Logan questioned confused.

“The Gauntlet,” Abbey breathed.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales excerpts!

Tuesday Tales – Picture Prompt


I’m back and it’s time for Tuesday Tales! We’re back with Sloan and Abbey in Family Ties, book six of the Black Irish Series.

Don’t forget to check out the other incredible Tuesday Tales blogs!


As Ame rounded the curve of the lake, she saw the dim outline of a white van very similar to the one she had seen at school. Cautiously she approached it, perched on the balls of her feet so she could take off running. The doors of the van flew open and four figures climbed out. The thinnest of the four was held tight by the largest two. Ame let a squeak escape her lips. Even in the dark she had no doubt it was Dakota.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Oliver cooed. The sliver of light from the full moon above illuminated the wicked sneer on his face.

“What do you want?” Ame demanded, still bouncing from the ball of one foot to the other ready to dash.

“Well you, Amelia. My client has great interest in you and your talented father.”

“Ame, run!” Dakota pleaded.

“Shut him up,” Oliver ordered over his shoulder. The biggest of the two thugs slapped a powerful hand over Dakota’s mouth. The boy moaned in response.

Ame’s eyes darted between Oliver and Dakota. “Let him go, please. I’ll come with you if you let him go.”

Dakota struggled furiously against his captors’ grip. Oliver shook his head. “Sorry, kiddo. No can do. He’s incentive for you to behave.” He pulled a pocket knife from inside his suit coat and flicked it open, grazing the blade against Dakota’s cheek. “If you’re a good girl he won’t suffer. Much.”

“Fine!” Ame burst out as tears burned her eyes. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

Oliver nodded in her direction. “Get her. Put them in the van.”

The smaller of his accomplices let go of Dakota and rushed at her. Instinctively, Ame’s feet scuttled backwards but she didn’t get far. Two strong hands wrapped tight around her arms like a vice.

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Tuesday Tales – Writing


Hey everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales. We are back with Sloan and Abbey in Family Ties, book six of the Black Irish series.

Don’t forget to check out the other incredible Tuesday Tales authors! 


Time slipped away quickly as Ame studied for her chemistry test. She had a crazy knack for the subject and loved it. If she aced this test tomorrow she had a great chance to end the year with an “A”. The only break she took was to have a supper of spaghetti, meatballs and garlic knots with everyone. She giggled as she watched the men she knew as her uncles perch on armchairs in the living room while they shoveled the pasta into their mouths just so their wives and children had a place to sit. The whole scene made her wonder. Would life ever go back to the way it was? Once she finished eating she tossed her plate into the sink of dishes her grandmother was already washing and scampered back to her room.

It was nearly nine o’clock when her cell rang. After writing a couple notes on her paper, Ame checked the screen. “Dakota,” she murmured. Her heart pounded in her chest as she silenced it. She couldn’t help the crush she had on him. But after seeing him with Chelsea she didn’t want to talk to him.

A few seconds later it rang again. With an irritated huff she silenced it again.

When it rang again she answered it. “What do you want, Dakota?”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Ame nearly dropped the phone as every part inside her clenched in fear. This wasn’t Dakota. She knew his warm, sweet voice. The person who spoke was cold, devious, adult. She gasped as she recognized him. It’s the guy with the knife from school! Mom and Dad said his name is Oliver. “How did you get Dakota’s phone?” she demanded.

“Your little friend and I have been having a little talk. I think you should come join us.”

“No way. I don’t even know if he’s really there.”

“Really?” She heard the phone go distant. Then she heard Oliver talk. “I think your little girlfriend  wants to talk to you.”

There was silence for nearly a minute then a pain-filled gasp. “Ame, hang up please,” Dakota cried out.

Ame fought back a whimper. “Where are you?”

“On the other end of the lake behind your house,” Oliver responded.

“Fine. Let me sneak out. I’ll be right there.”

“Hurry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again.”

“Don’t,” she pleaded just before the line went dead. She scrambled off her bed and slipped her shoes back on. She slowly opened her bedroom door. Even though her parents and six siblings had bedrooms on this floor, not one of them was upstairs. Silently she jogged down the back staircase and out the door to the garage.

Her heart stampeded in her chest as she ran alongside the lake. Her head filled with doubt. Did Oliver really have Dakota? How did he know who Dakota was? She tried to remember the television reports over the thud of her footsteps and the thundering of her heartbeat. She gasped as she remembered. Yes, one report showed Dakota with her and her grandparents, right before she ran to her father’s arms.

He’s in danger because of me!

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Hold Me Fast {McCullough Mountain 7} by Lydia Michaels


It’s more than a mountain. It’s a love story generations long.

Maureen O’Leahey has always hoped for a family to love, but with so many men returning from a lost war, she finds life to be a bit less romantic than expected—until she stares in to the blue eyes of Frank McCullough. Though the odds are against them, Frank and Maureen can’t seem to keep their distance. Against her father’s wishes, Maureen falls for the boy trying so hard to make it as a man and Frank fights to keep every promise made to the fiery red head that’s captured his heart.

During difficult times, they find solace in each other. As Frank struggles to do right by his young bride and Maureen aches to be a good wife, they are taught the true value of patience and shown the strength of unconditional love in this memorable story of a devoted Irishman and an untamable woman with a remarkable spirit.

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“When’s that birthday of yours, love?”

She frowned. “July twenty-fifth. Why?” Was he planning on getting her a present?

He nodded, making a masculine sound in his throat. “I’d like to get my lips on you before then, lassie.”

Appalled, she turned and scowled at him. “And that is how you ask? I’d like a lot of things, Frank, mostly, to meet a man who knows how to ask a woman for favors. And if that is why you’re waitin’ for my birthday you can just forget it. I’m saving myself for marriage.”

Every trace of cockiness fled his face as her words sank in. Oh Christ. She wasn’t necessarily saving shit, but it pissed her off that he’d assume the calendar was all that was holding him up from gettin’ into her knickers.

“I wasn’t… I hadn’t meant to insinuate—”

“Don’t try backtracking now. I know what you meant.” It was like her mouth had disconnected from her brain and there was no stopping her words.

Like a runaway train, she’d unleashed on him. “You think I have nothin’ better to do than wait around so you can legally take my virginity? You can think again, Mr. McCullough. I have standards and they aren’t the sort that crumble for some blue eyed, silver-tongued Irishman wantin’ to put his lips on me. I’ll be expectin’ a gentleman, next time I see you, if your lips will be getting’ anywhere near me—”

His mouth was suddenly crushing hers as he pulled her halfway across the seat and cut off her words. She’d never been kissed before, at least not like that. His hand cupped the back of her head as his mouth slanted and his tongue pressed deep, teasing and awakening parts of her she’d rather ignore. Her eyes held wide as his other hand fit around her thigh and massaged through the fabric of her skirt.

“You talk entirely too much, Maureen O’Leahey,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m thinkin’ it’s high time a man shut you up in a way you found acceptable.”

He kissed her again and her chest lifted, her nipples tightening as heat pulled in her stomach and a strange pressure set her insides on fire.

“No,” she mumbled as his hand slowly rubbed higher on her thigh. Pulling back as that hand steadily crept to a place she strongly considered off limits to others, she did the first thing she could manage and smacked him across the jaw.

The sharp slap left the car in dark silence. Quietly, he chuckled. “You really are something.”

“I told you,” she said, out of breath. “You’ll need to be a gentleman to get your lips on me. Buyin’ me dinner doesn’t prove shit.”

The side of his mouth kicked up in a half-smirk. “You sure got a mouth on you, woman.”

She liked being called woman, considering she was only seventeen. “And wouldn’t you like to see all the things it can do.”

His half-smirk turned into a full smile as he laughed. “Well, look at you. You’re tongues as sharp as mine is silver. You better be gettin’ home before real trouble finds you. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

That was right. Tomorrow she was graduating. Funny how such a monumental achievement paled in comparison to being kissed by Frank McCullough.

“Good night, love,” he said, cracking open the door.

“Frank?” He stilled and she took a second to process her sudden insecurities.

He paused, still facing the door. “Yes, Maureen?”

“The kiss… did I do it okay?”

His head tilted as he again faced her. “Have you not been kissed before?”

“Never like that,” she whispered, her fingers tracing where his mouth had been.

He slid back inside the car and turned to the windshield, pulling his lower lip in for a taste. A quiet chuckle escaped, but he didn’t seem amused. “You’re that innocent then?”

“Never mind,” she immediately said, wishing she’d never opened her mouth—for anything.

“No, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have assumed…” he shook his head. “A gentleman indeed.” He laughed. “I’m sorry I came on so strong, love, but when I’m around you, I lose sight of right and wrong and all I can tell is that I want you.”

Her eyes widened as she choked on her words. “Me?” That couldn’t be right.

His gaze turned on her, his eyes appearing almost pained. “Aye, you. I think you’re bonny, smart, funny, and I think about you naked every day.”


“Sorry, but it’s true. Your curves enchant me.”

Was that how men and women spoke to one another? “I’ve never been naked in front of anyone but my mum and my sisters.”

A smirk pulled the corner of his mouth tight. “We could remedy that.”

She smacked his arm. “Don’t be a pig.”

“I have a healthy appetite for beautiful women, love. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Aye, well if your wantin’ this woman you’ll lose your taste for all others, do you understand?”


They were silent for several minutes. She fidgeted as she waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Finally, she broke the silence. “What does this mean, Frank? People will talk if they see us together.”

“It means I like you.”

“Like me? Why?”

He shrugged and pointed to his chest. “It’s here, in the way my chest gets tight at just the sight of you and I want to hold you fast, but never feel like we have enough time.”

“Oh.” That was rather sweet and more poetic than she’d expected. “Are you saying we’re…”

“I want you to be mine for more than a minute.”

Lots of things were longer than minutes but still quite short. “Are you askin’ to date me? I’m not trying to be thick headed, but I’ve never much dated and…”

“Aye. I’m wantin’ you to be mine, Maureen O’Leahy. Mine and only mine.”

Liquid heat swirled in her belly as her veins pulsed with excitement. “I can’t let my parents know.”

“It’s no one’s business.”

Insecurity made it difficult to look in his direction. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing and sound foolish. “I…I never much dated,” she repeated.

“Me neither.”

She laughed, still finding that hard to believe. A thought occurred to her and she frowned. “I’ll not have you hitting on other girls if you want to be with me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

His gentle tone retrieved a bit of her courage. “And I’m not easy. I’m not promising you a thing, if you get what I mean.”

“Aye. It’ll keep.”

Shooting him a sidelong glance, she snickered. “You seem certain I’m keepin’ it for you.”

“You are,” he said with palpable cockiness.

Her mouth gaped at his surety. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“To be sure, but I speak the truth. I’ll have you, Maureen O’Leahey, make no mistake of that. I’ll be a gentleman for you, as you’re deserving of such, but make no mistake, I’m a man and I will not deny what I want no matter how long you deny me from gettin’ it.”

Author Bio:

Award winning author, Lydia Michaels, writes all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, always centered on love.

Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at


Other Titles by Lydia Michaels:

Falling In

Breaking Out

Coming Home

Sacred Waters



Faking It

Forsaking Truth

As Tears Go By

Hold Me Fast

Simple Man

Breaking Perfect

White Chocolate

All 4 You

To Catch a Wolfe

Chasing Feathers

Called to Order

Calling for a Miracle

Destiny Calls

Call Her Mine

Blind (Coming October 2015)

Tuesday Tales – Picture Prompt

Hey everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales. We are back with Sloan and Abbey in Family Ties, book six of the Black Irish series.

Don’t forget to check out the other incredible Tuesday Tales authors!  

Stepping outside of the school. Ame was stunned to find her father’s Hummer outside waiting for her. Sloan sat behind the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the tablet in his hand, a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates sitting on the dash. Both teenage girls and mothers alike stopped to stare at him. Ame pushed past the slowly growing crowd. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

Sloan frowned, confused, at the females gathered behind her. A slow grin curved his lips. Obviously he doesn’t mind the attention. “Your mom was taking a nap. I thought I’d come instead. You know, since your little secret isn’t much of a secret anymore. Hurry up and get in. Your siblings are waiting.”

“Right.” Ame scuttled around the vehicle and jumped in the passenger side. Sloan slowly pulled from the curb and wound down the lane to the next building. “So, how was school?” he asked.

“Everyone knows I lied. So you can come to my events now.”

“Sorry, Angel.”

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have lied. It’s just, if everyone knew I was your daughter, they would treat me like I was privileged because you’re rich.”

“Amelia, you need to be yourself. Money shouldn’t affect how you act. That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you.”

“I know. That’s what I sort of told the entire school.”

Sloan glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Really?”

“Yeah. Someone filmed it and put it on YouTube. I think they thought I was going to throw a punch instead.” She pulled her cell from the pocket of her jacket and found the video. Then she handed the phone to him. Sloan parked the Hummer in front of the elementary school then pressed play. A proud smile filled his face. “That’s my lass.”

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales blogs!

Tuesday Tales – Pen

Hey everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales. We are back with Sloan and Abbey in Family Ties, book six of the Black Irish series.

Don’t forget to check out the other incredible Tuesday Tales authors! 


Dark shadows stretched across Ame’s bedroom as she startled awake. This was ridiculous. Maybe a glass of warm milk would help. She frowned to herself. Did she know how to make warm milk? One thing was for certain. Both the milk and the source of heat to warm it were downstairs in the kitchen. Ame scooted out of bed and tiptoed down the hall. She froze when she heard her parents’ voices in the living room.

“She hates me,” Sloan moaned as he slumped into the leather sofa and buried his face in his hands.

“She does not,” Abbey assured.

He picked up Ame’s sketch pad and pens and tossed them into her lap. “Really? Don’t try to convince me that the image she drew isn’t me. She thinks I’m Satan.”

Ame’s heart sunk deep into her chest as guilt washed over her. Her father continued. “I never wanted her to know. She’s my little angel. She always has been. Now in her eyes I’m evil.”

“She’s fourteen. She’s a smart cookie. I think it’s time to tell her the truth.”

Sloan glared at Abbey. “Really? Are you prepared to tell Ame that we’re mercenaries?”

Abbey wrapped her arms tight around his waist. “Just let me handle it. All right?”

“Of course.”

“Has B found out anything more about those three men? Does any of this have to do with The Butcher?”

“All he found is that they have worked for him at one time. He doesn’t know if he was behind the attack or not. I have no idea why The Butcher would be after us. Yes, we were on the opposite sides of the war. But we never crossed paths.”

“We’ll figure this out, Sloan. We always do.”

“I won’t have you and our children in danger. You are my world. I will end the world to protect you.”

“And what about you? You are just as precious to me. I’m not about to let anything happen to you or our kids.”

Sloan turned to her and pressed his forehead against hers. Moments later his mouth dipped low to cover hers. Abbey melted into his kiss, pressing her body tight against him. Ame spun on her toe and raced back to her bed. Her mind was already a muddled mess over what happened at her school. She sure didn’t need to see her parents getting busy on the living room couch.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales blogs!



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