Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Win a $5 GC and an ebook, Second Burn Cowboy

Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Second-Burn-Cowboy-Chance-Book-ebook/dp/B00LZ842Q4/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1406032176&sr=8-9&keywords=rhonda+lee+carver
Book 6, Second Chance Series 

Elsa Matthews learned the hard way that men are lying, cheating poison. 

Needing to get away fast, she spreads a map, closes her eyes and points—and Texas is where she’ll make a new start. 

A year later, she has everything she could want, until a fire breaks out in her bakery, Elsa’s Fluff. Lying on the floor with flames surrounding her, in sweeps a hero, carrying her to safety. Wearing cowboy hat, worn boots and a charming smile—and the bluest eyes she’d ever looked into—this cowboy throws her for a loop and shakes up everything she’s ever believed. 

Deckland Brooke’s a nice guy. He’s always done the right thing and heroism is second nature. But when he invites a homeless Elsa into his home, he’ll be responsible for proving to her that not all men are jerks—like her ex who’d destroyed her trust and played her heart. 

Cupcakes aren’t the only thing baking on Brooke Creek Ranch. One touch and taste of Elsa’s sweetness and Deckland has an endless hankering for sugar. Question is, will he need to pull his sweet tooth before it rots, or will love be the ultimate remedy? 


A sexy cowboy couldn’t make a delicious offering and expect a woman not to have wicked thoughts. Did he realize how he turned her inside out? A smart man like Deckland wasn’t oblivious to his good looks and charm, and she definitely wasn’t immune, even though she wasn’t available—at least not in the emotional way.
Tiptoeing down the hall, she had her focus on making it to the last bedroom but his open door drew her like a fly to honey. She stopped, took a small step backward and peeked through the six-inch crack.
 Holy Moly!
Her mouth went dry as her bones went weak at the reflection in the dresser mirror. He was reaching into a drawer, his shirt was missing and his pants were undone, his large belt buckle dinged with each movement.
Afraid he’d hear her heavy breathing, she laid her palm against her mouth.
Her brain warned her to scoot before she was caught staring, but curiosity, and interest, kept her still. She slipped her gaze over slick, tanned chest and coiled abs, licking her lips, wondering what he tasted like. She’d never seen broader shoulders, a wider chest, or a narrower waist on any man. Elsa followed the trail of crisp hair from his bellybutton to the open zipper. His treasure was hidden. Too bad. She’d bet he was built for pleasure.
He dropped his fingers to the shiny buckle and gave it a tug, the leather swooshed as he pulled it from the belt loops. His biceps bulged.
She’d need another shower after this peep show.
Enraptured in cowboy candy, she finally realized he’d stopped moving. Bringing her chin up, she met his gaze in the mirror.
Run! Run now!
But her feet refused to obey.
He turned on barefoot, catching her with mesmerizing pools of blue diamond. “Feel better?” One thick brow curved.
“Lick new.” Her voice sounded odd to her ears.
He chuckled. “Lick new? Sounds fascinating.”
Shit! Heat scorched its way through her veins. “Uh, I meant, like new.” If only the floor would open and swallow her whole, saving her from humiliation. Would he think she was a pervert?
His gaze dropped over the towel she clutched like a lifeline, and she swore she saw yearning. Tremors rolled through her, igniting her parched flesh like a wildfire to brush. If she didn’t go, she’d touch him, all of him, and she’d lose herself. The risk of getting hurt was far too great.

“I better go and get dressed.” She flew down the hall, rushed into the guest bedroom and slammed the door. Leaning against the wood, she could move once her heartbeat returned to an even pace and her breathing slowed. 

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Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Second Song Cowboy...Book Blast July


TITLE – Second Song Cowboy
SERIES – Second Chance
AUTHOR – Rhonda Lee Carver
GENRE – Western Romance
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 157 pages
PUBLISHER – self-pub
COVER ARTIST – Samantha Holt

Second Song - Book Cover


April Swift and Dante Brooke were a couple as teenagers. They’d spent a summer falling in love, exploring one another, connecting stars…until April took off to follow her dreams as a country music singer.

Fifteen years later…

Dante shows up at April’s dressing room and she is lost in sky-blue eyes, again. A hello between old friends turns into a passionate reunion and both discover feelings they’d left behind. But April has a music career, and Dante has a ranch to run.

Two months later…

Home is where the heart is, but April doubted she’d find the welcoming committee on the doorstep, especially after she informed Dante that she was pregnant.

Dante has a reputation as a bad-boy. He wouldn’t deny the truth. He’d lived on the edge most of his life, but when he hears he’s going to be a daddy, his priorities flip-flop. He’d never stopped loving April and his only goal is to win her heart for a second time. However, his charming smile and sweet talk don’t work like they did before. Now, he’ll have to prove himself. Can he become the cowboy April needs?

When things start to spiral out of control, April realizes she must make a decision—to follow love or her career.





(R rated)

The house was quiet and April paced the floor. She played her guitar, attempted to write a new song…but she didn’t get very far.
Several times, she peeked through the window, hoping to catch a glance of Dante coming out of the garage.
Ten minutes passed, then thirty, until she could no longer ignore the raw need burning in her loins.
With one thought on her mind, she made her way to the garage, determined and free of doubt. Dante’s jeaned backside was the only thing she could see when she approached. “Dante?”
He jerked, hitting his head on the hood as he showed his face. He rubbed his scalp. “I’m almost there. I’ll need to get you some new plugs—”
His brows curved. “You okay?”
“I want you,” she said without inhibition.
He dropped the tool. “April, I’m not sure—”
She reached for the hem of her shirt and dragged it off. Her nipples bunched and his jaw clicked. She’d gotten his undivided attention. Next, she slid off her shorts and thong, and relished in the concentration that swept across his features.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” In three quick strides, he was across the cement and standing in front of her. She dropped her gaze to the bulge behind his fly. “I’m dirty.” He held up his hands and turned them, showing her his fingers covered in grease.
“But this isn’t.” She hooked her fingers into his belt and unlatched the buckle. Slipping her fingers past the leather, she undid the zipper and tugged his jeans down his legs. His erection had grown above the waist of his boxers. “These must go.” She dragged the material down to his knees. “I want to taste you.”
“Won’t hear any complaints from me.”

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Guest--Em Petrova

Displaying PushinButtons.jpg

Pushin’ Buttons
By Em Petrova

Are you a lover of the show THE VOICE? Some seasons are better than others, but I’m always a fan of Adam Levine. *wink*

My brand new series, The Boot Knockers, hatched from my obsession with THE VOICE. In the show, music superstars listen to singers but they’re unable to see them perform. If they like what they hear, they push their button and fight to get that singer on his team.

The Boot Knockers Ranch is a Texas ranch where women go for help with their sex lives. Maybe they’ve never been kissed, have bad self-image, or have been dumped too many times. Once they arrive at the ranch, they see are put onstage in front of twenty cowboys, who fight for them. Having tanned hunks in worn jeans and cowboy hats vying for you would make a gal feel pretty good, wouldn’t it?

Read on for a sneak peek of my latest cowboy release PUSHIN’ BUTTONS.

“Remember, cowboys. Keep your hands in your laps and your peckers in your pants. At least until it’s time to play your part.” Hugh paced down the line of twenty cowboys and dropped a file in each man’s hands.

The manila folders held a profile sheet containing a different woman’s photo, personal information and everything that man needed to know to rock the lady’s world, Boot Knockers style.

Hugh stopped in front of Riggs Archer, his best friend and the only guy not to follow protocol in the past. “Keep your—”

Riggs tugged the brim of his hat lower to avoid Hugh’s gaze. “I know, I know. Hands in my lap. No pushing the button until my lady comes up.”

“And keep your—”

Riggs shot him a glare. “Pecker. In. Pants.”

“Thass right, Archer.” Hugh grinned and nudged his friend’s hat with his knuckles, shoving it back enough to see the smoldering sparks in Riggs’s dark eyes.

Hugh’s stomach clenched and he passed Riggs his folder to cover his reaction.

Once the information was all distributed, Hugh watched the guys flip through the paperwork. The twenty women were hand-selected by the female production manager, Isabel. She was great at matching the men’s sexual strengths to the women’s needs.

A virgin needing deflowered? Jack was her man. He’d singlehandedly popped over thirty cherries in the four years they’d been running the Boot Knockers Ranch.

Ty excelled at treating women with body dysmorphic disorder. The women who spent a week under his care—and under his muscled body—left with the confidence of a supermodel.

And Hugh…well, he wasn’t playing this hand. Twenty women. Twenty men. He only filled in when necessary. His balls clenched at the idea of a celibate week, but he could tough it out. Maybe some lady would get kinky and ask for a voyeur.

“They’re lined up backstage,” Isabel whispered, and he gave a nod of recognition.

“You heard her, boys. Get to your seats. Fight over them a little. The show’s only for the ladies, but give ’em a good one. Make them feel special, because they are.” Hugh waved his fellow Boot Knockers toward the front of the auditorium. In three minutes, the lights would dim. In five, the first woman would walk onto the stage.

She might carry scars inside or out. Either way, she was leaving the Boot Knockers Ranch as one satisfied lady. Their goal was to treat much more than sexual disorders. When the invitee left the two-hundred-acre Texas ranch, she’d be equipped to pick up where she’d just left off—embarking on new relationships and sexual journeys.

The thud of boot heels drifted away from Hugh as the guys practically ran to their seats. A new group of women…and the chase was the best part. The gals selected the cowboys they were attracted to from photographs. Though the guys were assigned to one lady, they still made it look as if they won her.

Yeah, only one woman each unless Riggs gets trigger-happy again and hits the button for a gal who wasn’t assigned to him.

Women paid to come and enjoy the Texas countryside and pampering the cowboys could provide. The Boot Knockers just happened to love helping women in a lot of ways, so they each took charge of a guest.

“Hugh, would you mind looking at this lineup?” Isabel caught his attention, and he focused on her. Petite and chestnut-haired, she did everything in her power to make him take her to bed. But it was against his personal rules. She’d had a few go’s with other cowboys, and he’d heard she was a wildcat.

He couldn’t stop the grin from twitching at the corner of his mouth. He pulled his hat lower to keep her from seeing too much. Such as how he knew she liked taking two guys at once while another plugged her mouth.

Clearing his throat, he scanned the list of women about to step onstage. Isabel had chosen well from the hundreds who applied to the Boot Knockers Ranch each year. “Looks good as always, Isabel.” He let his gaze drop low enough to make her face flush.

She waved her clipboard, fanning her warm brown hair off her round face. “Thanks, Hugh. I like to get your approval before the girls go on.”

She glanced at the stage door. Women huddled there. All shapes and sizes. Some were hurt physically, emotionally. Others fighting their way back from bloody divorces. One or two might be socially backward. And there was probably at least one virgin. Jack would be happy.

Hugh looked over the fresh group of females. “Let’s get started. Cue the first l’il lady.”

Also check out my hot new biker book, LOVE TIES. http://empetrova.com
Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear from you.

Em Petrova
~hardworking heroes—in bed and out~

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Giveaway!!! Lots of goodies!!!

I've joined Samantha Holt, Em Petrova and Em Taylor for an awesome giveaway. We have jewelry and gift cards.

Enter below!!!

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Big hands...big P%$**

Y'all know the old saying, "You can tell a lot from the size of a man's hands."

But is it true? Ya know, that you can look at a man's hands and get a good idea how big his southern salute is at its tallest...

But, is there any evidence correlating a man's hands and how big his snake is? Well, believe it or not, studies were conducted to answer this question. Yes, really, lots of research. Do you wish you'd been on the list of researchers? Guess what? They didn't find any evidence.

I wonder how they measured the units. Hard, flaccid, stretched? And is it possible to get an accurate reading? Wouldn't they have to take into consideration how turned on he is at the time of measurement?

I'll go out on a limb. I think when a woman is available and looking, she notices a man's hands and speculates about the goods. We correlate large, thick hands with a man who works hard. Makes sense, right? Men, and women, who work with their hands a lot have bigger hands.

So, if your scoping out men and using hands as a gauge, beware. It can't possibly be accurate.

What would you do...?!?

Have you ever asked yourself how far you'd go just to get something that you really want?

What would you do for $15.00?

1. Run naked down a city street?
2. Get a full-body wax?
3. Lick a strangers toes?
4. Eat a can of live worms?
5. Stand up in a crowded restaurant and sing Miley Cyrus's song "Wrecking Ball?"
6. Kiss your boss for a full minute?

So, what would you do?

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Em Petrova

Cowboy heroes

Worn Wranglers, a broken-in hat and a denim shirt washed to softness…Whooeee, we’re talking cowboy heroes!

What’s so compelling about cowboys? They’re hardworking men. They don’t mind getting their hands dirty and they stay until the job is done. We definitely like those traits in bed, don’t we?

I love writing cowboy heroes. My heroes are usually straight-talkers. They know what they want and go after it. Even if they don’t always say the right thing and make mistakes along the way, they are man enough to own their shortcomings and try to win the girl.

Writing cowboys means knowing horses and trucks, animals and soil. I truly love researching the things I don’t know and discovering new information. Every month when a new copy of Cowboy Way Magazine arrives on my Kindle, I squee a little. Okay, a lot!

My heroes are all hardworking—in bed and out. I write loggers, firemen, bikers and more, but I definitely have a soft spot for guys in boots and chaps! What about you? I’d love to hear from you.

Sexual dysfunction. The words make Sibyll cringe, but after one too many failed relationships, she has to face reality. Her O-button is broken, big time. Sick of sitting on the sexual sidelines, she books a week at Boot Knockers Ranch. If a passel of rugged cowboys vying to bring her bliss can’t get her off, nothing will.
Hugh had planned to sit out this week’s rotation of sexual therapy, but when he spots sultry Sibyll, he pulls rank. His bone-deep urge to possess her isn’t enough to coax elusive orgasms out of her body, though. And his resolve to give the lady whatever she needs wavers when she shyly makes a mind-blowing request.
Riggs stepped aside when Hugh muscled in to claim Sibyll, but he jumps at the chance to fulfill her ultimate fantasy—a threesome. But once they come together, all barriers are stripped away, exposing his love for the one man—and woman—he’d break every last rule to make his own.

Goodreads Link – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20862757-pushin-buttons?from_search=true

Sibyll followed her gaze to the door between stage entrance and hallway several feet away. His back was to her and the other dozen women, his shoulders taking up most of the door frame and his white T-shirt molded to a chiseled back. Sibyll outlined his back muscles with her gaze, cutting a path down to a backside hugged by worn denim.
The cowboy pivoted. His face was illuminated by the overhead lights as he talked to the perky Isabel, the ringleader of this insane audition process.
“He has a black eye!” someone whispered.
“From a bar fight? Please let it be from a bar fight!” a woman with a gorgeous head of red hair and thick glasses added.
The cowboy raised his head and stared at the women. Suddenly Sibyll’s muscles tensed to run. She didn’t want to be here, had made the wrong decision. So what if I can’t experience “physical and emotional sensation at the peak of sexual excitation” according to Dictionary.com?
Isabel swooped through the door and pointed at the curvaceous brunette to Sibyll’s right. “You’re next.” Then she returned to the doorway, where she leaned and talked to the cowboy with the black eye.
Dust motes swirled hectically in the lights streaming from the stage. Sibyll tried to follow one with her eyes. Anything to keep from looking directly at that cowboy’s handsome, rugged face.
He was huge—tall and broad and muscled in all the ways that made the knot in Sibyll’s core want to unravel. But it never did.
Maybe if he fights to win me, I could.
He glanced up again, and the group of women tittered. The leggy blonde was led offstage on the arm of a cowboy wearing all black except his shiny silver and turquoise belt buckle.
“Wow, he’s fine. Jenny’s lucky to get him,” the virgin whispered after they passed. They stopped at the door, and the production manager moved to the side so they could pass.
The black-eyed cowboy with the two-day-old dark stubble on his jaw shook hands with both cowboy and contestant.
“You—sexy secretary—you’re next.” The production manager jabbed a finger in Sibyll’s direction.
She looked around herself. A slight girl to her right wore a peasant dress and thong sandals, and the tall, toned girl to her left wore sporty shorts and a T-shirt with an energy drink logo.
“Wh—? Me?” Sibyll pointed to her chest.
“Yep, you.” The production manager whirled back to speak with the cowboy, but he’d strolled through the door and was making his molasses-sweet way across the stage.
He passed the first group of contestants, who froze like a herd of deer in the middle of Highway 495. He dipped his head and positioned a battered brown cowboy hat on it. “Howdy,” he drawled, lips curled in the perfect dose of Southern gentleman and cocky bad-boy.
Feminine sighs sounded in response. Sibyll’s heart thumped as he neared her small group standing nearest to the stage. The closer he got, the more his bulk seemed to take up all the space in the room. Or maybe that was testosterone.
He dropped a wink at the virgin and leaned in to speak to her. “The black eye was nothin’ as glamorous as a kick-ass bar fight. Took a hoof yesterday working with the horses.” He straightened and settled his gaze right on Sibyll.
She stopped breathing as electricity passed between them.
That’s my imagination. I’m so keyed up.
The cowboy cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. Around them, women gawked. Hell, even Isabel the production manager stood with her mouth open, glancing between the huge cowboy and her clipboard.
“Hugh, you’re not filling in today, are you?” Isabel asked.
The man blinked, severing his hold on Sibyll. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not competin’ today. I’m Master of Games as usual.” He pinned Sibyll again with his gaze. Something dark and exciting coiled low in her belly. What if this man did stand up for her?
I’d choose him in a heartbeat.

Em Petrova lives in backwoods Pennsylvania, where she raises four kids and a Labradoodle puppy named Daisy Hasselhoff and pays too damn much for utilities. She loves to write gritty characters with lots of heart and is well-known for scorching, panty-soaking erotic romance.


$10 Amazon GC

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