Wednesday 8 March 2017

Rough 'n' Tough - BRITISH BAD BOYS


I'm thrilled to announce you can still pre-order BRITISH BAD BOYS for just 99c/99p.

 This 7 book set is all about those sexy Brit boys with their hot accents and even hotter desires. My story Rough 'n' Tough is written and now with the editor getting polished ready for you. I'm super excited to share an excerpt here today and show you a few images I used for inspiration.



My bad boy hero is Harper, an Irish traveller, and he's captured the attention of rich girl, Carmel as she studies in her parents' lavish home in England.



She risked another look at the man she knew only as Harper. Her father had paid him a week’s wages to manage the overgrown shrubs in the garden. The weather was so hot here in Hereford, though, and she wondered if Harper was regretting taking on such a physical job. His young helper, Bart, certainly seemed to be moaning about it a lot, though he wasn’t a slacker. Neither of them were.
As Bart ambled out of sight, alongside the house to the front drive, Harper wiped his forearm over his brow, flashing his dark underarm hair.
He looked straight at Carmel.
Quickly she looked away, and peered at the lecture notes set before her. God, if just his gaze upon her made her blood heat, her nipples tighten, what the hell would it be like if he actually stripped her naked and fucked her hard and fast?
Not that she’d ever know.
Girls like her didn’t get fucked by men like him.
That wasn’t how it was.
Daddy would have a fit.
She read the lines she’d pondered over for an hour, their meaning slipping through her brain like dust on a breeze. She just couldn’t form them together, each sentence a tumbleweed drifting past her. Damn the guy who’d knocked on their door offering a good deal on garden maintenance just when her father had been saying how overgrown some of the hedges were. If only he’d driven past, or they’d been out, then maybe she’d be getting on with her work.
“Can I bother ya for some water, Miss?”
She looked up.
Harper stood before her holding an empty bottle. He tipped it up, as if proving there was nothing left inside.
“Yes, of course.”
He’d stepped under the red canopy that stretched over the table she was working at and it had illuminated his body in a scarlet glow.
He smiled, flashing neat teeth, and nodded at her notes. “Sorry, you’re busy.”
“Not really.” She shrugged and stood.
He passed her the bottle. As he did so she caught his scent. Raw male, fresh sweat and something she couldn’t identify. It was spicy. Ginger perhaps? Sandalwood? Whatever it was she enjoyed it settling in her nose and breathed a little deeper
“Seems you are. Been sat for two days with your head in books.” A shard of sunlight, bouncing off the kitchen window caught on the gold hopped earring he wore, from it hung a small cross. She noticed, now she was closer to him, the tattoo on his neck was of three feathers, starting behind his ear they fell downward to his collar bone, the ink black as night.
“I have exams coming up.”
“Ah, you’re one of those.” He nodded knowingly. 
“What does that mean?” She hadn’t meant to inject so much indignation in her voice, but it had just come out. Perhaps it was because she was self conscious of their very obvious, and very different backgrounds.
He grinned, a cocky but oh-so-sexy smile that tilted his lips and sent creases darting from the corners of his eyes. “I just mean, you’re a clever sort, not like me.”
“I’m sure you are…clever that is.”
“Nah. Didn’t bother with school.”
“But you must have?”
“Nope. Me ma and pa were always on the move. Where they went, I went. Showed up a few times to keep them from getting banged up, but no one could be assed to teach me stuff.”
“So you can’t…” She paused, the words sticking on her tongue. Was he illiterate?
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She held up the bottle. “Water or squash? I think we have lemon and barley, or perhaps some elderflower.”
“Water’s grand.” He shrugged and let his gaze slip from her face to her chest.
She wore a pink v-neck vest top and a necklace an ex had bought her. It was a small butterfly with diamonds on the wings—one of her many Tiffany & Co pieces. She didn’t like the guy who’d bought it for her anymore, not one bit, but she loved the necklace so still wore it.
She twirled the pendent between her fingers, somewhat of a habit.
“That’s nice,” he said, nodding at her hand.
“Thanks.”
“Pretty like you.”
His words were unexpected and brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. “Oh, well…I…”
He chuckled and rubbed his fingertips over the centre of his chest, flattening the damp patch of hair that sat at his sternum. To the right of the hair, across his right pectoral was another tattoo, this one of a skull, atop it a crow cawing and its wings half outstretched. “Sorry, I’m one of those blokes who says what I think. Guess me ma and pa didn’t teach me to hold my tongue either.”
She swallowed, a prickle of sweat formed at her temples. “I’ll er…get you some water. 



Phew, nothing quite like a meeting of two opposites, throw in a good dose of kink, a wild storm, and a ride on a stallion and it makes for a fun and super sexy story.





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