The final Swordsman story is out today! Hartley's Solace

"Hartley's Solace" (MM) by Cara Adams "The Swordsmen" book 3

Blurb: So much has happened this summer. First Randall’s opponent in battle was Hartley, the man he’s fast coming to think is essential to his future happiness. Then they fought the masterless men to claim Lord Denzil’s castle for Bancroft the Bold and all the swordsmen. Now they’re frantically busy trying to ensure there’s enough food for everyone to last through the upcoming winter, and that the castle will be a secure place for those living inside it.

The more time he spends with Randall the more he wants this man and this place to be his future but King Edward has all the power. What if he doesn’t allow them to stay here? Is what he feels for Randall real or just his own wishful thinking?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/hartleys-solace

STORY EXCERPT

It was a fiercely hot summer day and instead of beginning the battle at Prime, like a normal fight, they’d been lined up in battle array for hours while Lord Bolton argued with his noble friends. Meanwhile the serfs and peasants shuffled their feet and moved this way and that instead of remaining in formation, and Lord Howard started screaming and waving his arms like a child deprived of his toy sword. Lord Howard’s friends tried to quiet him down but that only made him even angrier until he was ranting and railing so loudly it was a wonder they couldn’t decipher the words all the way over on the far side of the battlefield.

By the time battle was joined Hartley’s body was slicked with sweat, the weight of his metal great helm made his neck and head ache, and he was very thirsty. But he was a swordsman and ignored all that to engage his opponent in fair combat.

The man was a little taller than him, his war horse very well trained. Hartley wasn’t rich enough to have such a well-trained beast, but his horse knew the rudimentary rules of battle and let him concentrate on the thrust and parry of the engagement.

It didn’t take him more than ten minutes to notice that the loud shouts and crash of metal against metal had already diminished. His opponent stopped attacking and only defended himself. Hartley took a moment to turn his head and saw serfs and peasants fleeing the field.

What the fuck? They weren’t trained fighters, but they owed allegiance and service to their lord. They had no right to leave until the battle was over.

He fought on resolutely, until he realized his opponent was deliberately making him turn and then he saw why. Lord Howard was lying on the ground, dead or dying, and two other men were lying beside him.

Without a word he and his opponent stopped fighting and climbed off their horses.

All around them the other swordsmen were doing the same thing. Already the last of the serfs was fast disappearing over the hill behind them.

He pulled his great helm off and finally could look around freely. Lord Bolton and Lord Howard were both dead. Two other noblemen were injured, and the battle had stopped. There was no sense in continuing to fight when the protagonists were dead.

But what did this mean to him? Who would pay him his silver?

Hartley turned to look at his former opponent. The man, taller than him and stronger looking as he’d guessed, held out his hand. “Randall.”

“Hartley.”

Since then they’d been friends and companions, working side by side as swordsmen under Bancroft and Winston to claim this castle and make it safe to live in. He enjoyed cooking and so did Randall, so they spent time together in the kitchens until some women arrived to take care of the food preparation.

These were young women who’d been enslaved by the masterless men who’d captured the castle. Several women became pregnant to their captors and their village didn’t want them back, so Bancroft had offered them safe housing here at the castle, provided they worked.

Now that someone else was available to prepare the meals, he and Randall would be helping in the fields, planting winter food crops. He was less familiar with planting, sowing, and weeding, but knew what vegetables looked like in the soil and had picked them many times, so expected he’d adjust to his task. Or maybe he’d remain on guard duty and care for their horses. That was a better fit for the skills he had.

Hartley wanted to be with Randall. His former opponent was the closest thing to a friend he’d ever really had, and he didn’t want to lose that connection.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at Randall. The big man was lying naked beside him on the large comfortable bed. This was the first time ever that Hartley had spent an entire night in a bed. Various lovers had taken him into their bed, but he’d always been expected to leave after the fucking was done. Of course, most of the fucking he’d done hadn’t even happened in a bed, but against a wall in a darkened stable or shed, or on the ground under their cloaks, or perhaps on a blanket under a tree.

Hartley shook his head. Those men weren’t lovers. Randall was his first and only true lover. The bodily contact he’d considered love in the past merely scratched an itch. His feelings for Randall were completely different. He thought it was love. Or maybe that it would continue to deepen and truly become love. Whether his feelings now were love or not, they were already a lot more than scratching an itch, and a lot deeper than anything he’d ever felt in the past. They were truly different.

Randall mattered to him. Not as a meal ticket or as a protector. He’d had them in the past. Now he could support and protect himself as a trained swordsman. No, Randall mattered to him as a person. They were equals, swordsmen working for a mutual gain to make this castle safe so they could all live here. But this meant more than that. He didn’t want Randall to like him for self-preservation. He wanted Randall to return the emotions he felt.

The problem was Hartley didn’t know what love was. No one had ever loved him before. They’d liked his body and enjoyed fucking him. More recently, they’d appreciated his skills with a sword and hired him to fight for them. But love? No, that was new. Completely new and totally unexpected.

Was what he felt for Randall genuine love? Did Randall return his love? Or was it all just his own need making him see things that didn’t really exist?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/hartleys-solace

Archer's Revenge and the Hanson Mall Werewolves Box Set

"The Werewolves of Hanson Mall Collection", Volume 1 (MFM) by Cara Adams

In Publicly Exhibited, sisters Willow and Hawthorne Cunliffe are fleeing from Hawthorne's ex-boyfriend, who thinks she's insane and wants to force her into a mental health institution because she saw a shape-shifter. They arrive at Hanson Mall not knowing it's a shape-shifter community. Cadfael Hanson, the Alpha of the pack, and his second-in-command, Rhion Jones, are instantly attracted to Willow, but revealing their identity could send the women running away again. They offer the women safety. The women begin to relax, but can they ever be safe while Hawthorne's ex is searching for them?

In Doubly Protected, Willow and Hawthorne Cunliffe decide it's time to sell their parents' house and reclaim their lives. But someone still wants to find them. Werewolves Maelor Powell and Dylan Upjohn are determined to protect Hawthorne until the problem is resolved and the safest place for her is in their bed. But she hates being confined and refuses to believe she should hide away indefinitely. This problem has to be solved before the men explode with repressed desire.

In Dangerously Attracted, to prove Jackson Hamilton's well-being center is kidnapping people, security guard Dakota Rutherford contacts him pretending her grandmother needs care and accommodation. Lewis Bowen, who escaped from the center, and Andreas Llewelyn are horrified by her risky actions. But she refuses to listen to them or accept their protection. Andreas has loved Dakota for a long time but she won't listen to him either, and now he sees the adoration in Lewis's eyes when he gazes at her. Maybe together they can convince her to let them keep her safe from harm.

All 3 books for $4.99.

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/the-werewolves-of-hanson-mall-collection-volume-1



"Archer's Revenge" (MM) by Cara Adams. "The Swordsmen" book 2.

Archer Goldenvoice and Drake the Swordsman are swordsmen for hire, determined to help Bancroft the Bold and his lover Winston the Warrior win their castle— and themselves a secure job for the future. Fighting the masterless men is just the first of a series of obstacles they must overcome to gain the castle.

Life in England in 1320 is not safe. Edward of Caernarfon is a strong king but he has his own problems to deal with in battling the Scots, as well as a wife, and a lusty love life. With the death of both Lord Howard and Lord Bolton the swordsmen head north to see if reclaiming Lord Denzil’s castle is possible. Success offers them all the opportunity of safety behind strong stone walls, and a future of ongoing employment. But such a huge undertaking was never going to be that easy to accomplish...

STORY EXCERPT

The door fell in with a mighty crash, and Archer raced after Baxter and Cedric into the hall. He was just in time to see a man’s feet disappearing up the stone stairs so he ran after him.

“Coward! Stand and fight,” he roared. The man kept running so Archer threw his ax at the man’s body. The coward had been warned so hitting him in the back wouldn’t be dishonorable, although a face to face fight would be better.

The man ran into a room and Archer almost lost him because he stopped to pick up his ax. His throw had missed the man thanks to his sidestep into the room. Archer stepped slowly into the room, looking around but no one was there. He was about to look under the bed, although that would have required him removing his helmet, when he realized one of the hangings on the wall covered another door.

He ripped the hanging open. The ancient fabric disintegrated in his gauntleted hand. Archer stopped instantly as he stepped into the inner room. The man he’d been chasing held a woman front of his body.

His arm was across her neck, almost choking her. The woman’s feet were scrambling to reach the floor as he was a lot taller than her, and he kept her shielding his entire torso.

“Such a brave man to hide behind the skirts of a woman. Step out and fight like a man,” Archer challenged him.

“Like fuck I will. Get out of this room and leave me or she dies.” The man raised his sword to the center of the woman’s body and her legs flailed even more as she tried to move. But his arm across her neck held her much too tightly. Archer thought the man might choke her anyway, just out of spite. But that wasn’t his concern. His job was to kill the coward.

Archer ignored the woman and the sword, watching the man’s face intently. Many fighters signaled their movements with their eyes. It was slight, almost indiscernible, but a true swordsman learned to read the tiniest of signs.

As Archer gazed into the man’s black eyes, the years fell away and he saw another cowardly soldier. Another man with a sword. One who had grabbed an elderly monk delivering food to the poor. The elderly monk had made no attempt to save himself as the earlier coward had slashed his neck to free the strap holding the pouch of food and alms. The monk had dropped dead at Archer’s feet and the soldier had laughed at Archer and run away before he could do anything more than fall to his knees by the old monk’s side. But his mentor, his teacher, the man who’d helped him, was already dead. Killed for some bread, a small jar of oil, and a few copper coins.

Archer’s blood, hot as fire as he’d chased the coward up the stairs, turned to ice in his veins as he recognized the man.“Ten years ago you murdered a monk in cold blood. A monk. A man of God. He carried no weapon and was no danger to you. Yet you killed him without a moment’s thought. Today Father Kirby will be avenged. I will kill you for your infamous treatment of him.”

“I’d forgotten about the monk. He was a nobody. Now this little cunt might give you some fun tonight if you treat her right. I’ll give her to you if you let me go.”

“She won’t give me nearly as much fun as I’ll get killing you.” Archer swept his war ax up at the man’s sword arm, causing him to step to the side away from it. In the same movement Archer brought the flat of his sword down as hard as he could on the man’s bare head.

The soldier sank to his knees, and the woman scrambled away from him and took to her heels out the door.

“Now stand up and fight like a man. Prepare to meet your maker, you coward who hides behind women and murders the innocent.”

The man jumped to his feet, taking his own sword in a double handed grip. Now the fight could begin in earnest. Archer watched his face, not his hands. This man was a murdering coward and Archer already knew he wouldn’t fight honorably. The man would fight to win. Archer had his honor to maintain, but once the man broke the rules of fair combat, he could, too.

They thrust and parried, moving slowly around the room, staying just out of each other’s reach between blows. Then Archer realized the man was trying to wear him down, so he stepped in closer and thrust hard, putting all the force of his arm behind each blow.

The other man wore ordinary clothes and Archer was in full armor. That meant he would tire more easily, but he could make more dangerous moves with the chain mail to protect him. The battle raged for several long, fierce minutes of thrust and parry, slash and withdraw, only to attack once more.

Archer slammed his sword down on the hilt of the other man’s weapon, and he dropped to his knees. There was no reason for him to do that. It was a feint. Sure enough, he thrust upward with his sword, hoping to catch Archer leaning over him. Archer wasn’t that naïve. He jumped to the side and brought his sword down on the man’s shoulder with all the strength in his arm.

The man fell flat on his face, not acting this time, as blood welled up through his clothing.

“Confess your sins and I’ll bind your wound,” Archer offered.

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/archers-revenge

Book 1 of "The Swordsmen", "Warriors for Hire" is out today!

Warriors for Hire (MM) The Swordsmen Book 1

Winston the Warrior is a swordsman for hire. It’s an uncertain life but it’s okay, until he meets Bancroft the Bold and starts to want so much more. Winston’s on the opposite side in battle from Bancroft but a swordsman isn’t easily deterred from his plans.

Lord Howard and Lord Bolton have hated each other since birth but the battle between them is only the beginning. Now there are fourteen skilled swordsmen all homeless, jobless, and trying to find a path forward. Lord Garrick suggests they travel north and reclaim Lord Denzil’s dilapidated castle from the masterless men who’ve invaded it.

A swordsman is extremely courageous, but not stupid. Will listening to Lord Garrick provide them with a hope for the future or send them to an early grave? And what about the growing affection between Bancroft and Winston? Will this be the death of their romance even if they live through the battle?

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/warriors-for-hire


STORY EXCERPT

Winston removed his chain mail with a huge sigh of relief, and poured cold well water over his head happily. A quick swim in a nearby river would have been even better, but the chilly freshness of the water was very refreshing on his hot, sweaty body. Late summer was always the traditional time for battle, once the muddy tracks had dried out and the crops were harvested. But today was still midsummer and the weather had been unpleasantly hot. He rubbed his hands over his body to remove the worst of the water and then shook his shoulder-length, dark brown hair like a dog to get rid of the excess water.

He considered drying himself on his tunic, but the sun was still quite hot enough to dry him in minutes so he stood back from the well as the other men washed, before sighing and dropping his tunic over his bare chest. It would have been good to wash his entire body, but a swordsman never removed his chausses when women and children were around, as they were right now in the courtyard of this manor house. Besides, he was still wearing his boots. He wondered whether he ought to put on a surcote but it was too hot to want another layer of clothing, and he didn’t think he needed to get dressed up for dinner just yet.

When the men who’d declared he could speak for them were ready, he led them into the hall. Once again he recognized the signs that this was a well-to-do family. The room was large and already servants were setting up long trestle tables and benches for the meal. There were banners and embroidered hangings on the walls, demonstrating years of hard work by the lady of the house and her female attendants.

Carved wooden chairs with arms were behind the high table. Four of them, not just one for the lord of the house.

A manservant brought around a large pitcher of ale and filled their tankards, which Winston was very grateful for. He’d drunk some water at the well, but the ale was much more thirst-quenching than plain water.

The man who led the other group of swordsmen, Bancroft, and his men joined them and Winston stepped back to include them in the group. They would all have a much stronger bargaining position as a single group, rather than as two opposing sides, and he’d liked what he’d seen of Bancroft on the ride here. He seemed to be an honorable man.

“We should talk, you and I, before the official meeting,” said Bancroft.

Winston moved farther away from the rest of his men and the two of them crossed over to stand by the side wall of the hall. “I agree. United we have more authority. Although this entire situation is a huge pile of turds.”

“That’s true. We have limited choices as to where we go and what we do from here.”

“We were promised ongoing employment as castle guards for Lord Howard. I suppose you were told much the same story.”

“A purse of silver each and the position as guards, yes. It’s good Lord Garrick has promised to pay us, but silver won’t last long with no means of earning more,” said Bancroft.

“And therein lies the problem. I don’t wish to fight in the Holy Land. Nor do I wish to join in the border wars against the Scottish lords.”

“No indeed. They’re King Edward’s battles, not mine. Yet London will be the only place to find a new lord to serve.”

Winston crossed his arms and stared at the other swordsman. He spoke like a man of intelligence and leadership, just the kind of person Winston liked best. Someone who genuinely understood the situation and didn’t offer any silly suggestions that wouldn’t solve the problem. He was also a fine figure of a man. Tall and muscular, broad of shoulder and sturdy of limb. His hair was dark blond and his eyes pale blue, but it was the smile on his face and the intelligence in those pale blue eyes that pleased Winston the most.

“Unless Lord Garrick knows of another lord hiring swordsmen,” Winston said.

“I’ll be more wary before I shake hands this time, though,” said Bancroft.

“Fuck, yes. Me, too. If we journey back to London as a group we’ll be safe from masterless men even traveling more slowly with the wagon.”

“Why do you have the wagon? I mean, I understand its use in transporting goods, but it’s also a disadvantage in that it attracts the attention of men wishing to steal whatever it contains.”

“Ah, but we had hoped to win the battle and have secure employment. I suspect Lord Howard only gave it to us because he was trying to outdo Lord Bolton. I doubt very much that he was truly concerned for our welfare. We were not hired as a group but as individuals. Many of us met for the first time on the battlefield this morning. I and a few others spent last night at Lord Howard’s castle, though.”

Bancroft nodded and looked thoughtful. “Tomorrow we’ll join as a group to return to London. Agreed?”

“Yes.”

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/warriors-for-hire

Bad Boy Wants Man to Love

At last! The final Hill brother looks for romance!




Atticus Hill is the second oldest of the six Hill brothers. He’s also the only brother who hasn’t found his Mr. Right yet and his father’s twelve month deadline is fast running out. The only man who appeals to him is Roger King, the drummer at the gay bar Midnight on Tenth.

Roger has his own problems. He’s actually the owner of the bar, not just the drummer, but no one knows that. His parents died in a car crash when Pete, his brother, was only a few months old, and Roger, at the age of eighteen, chose to rear the baby himself, studying and working part-time as he did so. Now he’s achieved his dream. He owns the gay bar and Pete has graduated college. He wants to renovate the bar but that means telling his secret. Is it time for him to put himself first or not?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/bad-boy-wants-man-to-love

STORY EXCERPT

Atticus cherished and fostered his role as the bad boy in the Hill family. From the time he could say his first word—which was no—he knew his older brother, Kai, was the driven one, the one who would ensure he succeeded. Atticus had the same black hair and black eyes as his father and brother, but he didn’t want to be a carbon copy of either of them. He rode a Harley motorcycle, always dressed completely in black, and grew his hair long and shaggy.

Right now he stood just inside the gay bar, looking at the stage for the drummer. Midnight on Tenth was the only decent gay bar in town, and Atticus was a regular visitor here, although he seldom picked up a one-night stand anymore. He was thirty-nine and even he was ready to find Mr. Right and settle down.

His decision had been hastened by his father’s edict nine months ago to all six of his sons that they had twelve months to settle down and give him some grandchildren. Since then, all five of his brothers had found their own Mr. Rights. Hell, his perfectionist brother, Storm, had even married his Mr. Right.

There were also two grandchildren for his parents to dote on. Christabelle, the girl his oldest brother Kai and his partner, Alan, had rescued, had a son, CC, born on Christmas Day. And Jude, his golden-haired, stunningly good-looking brother, was in a relationship with Stuart, who had a baby daughter, Kathleen.

Sawyer, brother number four, was happily settled with police lieutenant Mitch, and just recently his baby brother, Ross, had set up house with Perry Scott, a carpenter. Which left him the odd one out. Thirty-nine and with no one special.

No one who even made his pulses pound the slightest bit faster. Except maybe the drummer.

The drummer was tall and muscular, with brown hair and eyes, and a lot of piercings. Atticus could imagine tugging on the rings that adorned his body while they fucked. The man put a hell of a lot of effort into his drumming. He usually wore sleeveless shirts, and his skin glowed with sweat by the end of a set of music. Atticus liked the idea that his bulk was all muscle, not fat. He was a big man himself, six feet three and solid, and he liked to fuck hard and fast. He needed a fit and strong partner, not some frail twink who’d break if he pushed him against a wall and slammed his dick into his ass with no preparation.

The drummer. Mmm. The drummer was the only man who’d had even the slightest effect on his libido in months. It was time for Atticus to revert to his old bad habits and fuck the man against a wall to see if he still wanted to know him afterward. Unfortunately, in the past, the answer had been mostly no. But maybe this time he’d find someone who was more than a one-night stand. Someone who suited him. The drummer was his only hope.

He waited until the set of songs ended and then pushed his way through the crowd, arriving at the edge of the stage just as the drummer was leaving it.

“Buy you a drink?” he asked.

The drummer nodded. “You’re Atticus. I’ve seen you here often, although not so much lately.”

That was a surprise. He didn’t have the faintest idea of the drummer’s name. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the name of the band, yet the drummer knew him.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked as they moved toward the bar.

“Espresso caipirinha, please.”

Atticus just stared. He’d never heard of it.

“The barman knows.”

Yeah, well he would. That was his job. Atticus would Google it on his cell phone later.

Once again he pushed his way through the crowd. That was the advantage of being six three. He could see how to get to the head of the line a lot faster than short people.

“A longneck and an espresso caipirinha, please?” he asked.

He watched the bartender prepare the drink, but it wasn’t easy to see, as he turned his back after he added the ice coffee and Atticus had already figured that bit out himself.

He paid the man and shoved his way back out of the crowd. The drummer, whose name he still didn’t know, was leaning against the wall. Atticus was surprised he hadn’t grabbed a table, and then he wondered if maybe the staff wasn’t supposed to. No, he was sure he’d seen some of them sitting before.

“You know my name. What’s yours?”

“Roger. This way.”

Atticus followed him around the side of the bar to a narrow alcove with just one small table there. Roger sat so he could watch the crowd, leaving Atticus with his back to the room. He didn’t like that at all and moved his chair to the side of the table where he was beside Roger and could look at the crowd by turning his head to the side.

Roger grinned. “I’ve never met a nervous bikie before.”

“I’m not nervous. I just like to know what’s happening.”

“That seems reasonable. Why did you want to buy me a drink?”

Atticus took a long pull on his beer and noticed Roger just took a tiny sip of his drink.

“I want to fuck you. Tonight. Is that okay?”

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/bad-boy-wants-man-to-love

Spoiled Brat Wants Man to Love Him (MM) Ross's Story!

Blurb: The sixth son in the Hill family, Ross, has always been an afterthought. He doesn’t even know what career to try. But he does like the look of Mr. Yummy the carpenter. Fortunately Perry Scott likes him too and agrees to let him try a career in construction—and other things.
Life has settled down into a calm pattern with Chris and her baby CC, Stuart and his baby daughter, Kathleen, and four of Ross’s brothers happy with their life partners. A crew of carpenters is busy extending the house for all these new people, and Ross likes talking to Perry.
Everything is peaceful and happy until the morning when Stuart goes for his usual daily run pushing Kathleen in her baby carriage, and they’re attacked by Tom Frame who is convinced they’ve stolen his son and is determined to get even with them all, kill Chris, and take CC.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/spoiled-brat-wants-man-to-love-him

STORY EXCERPT

It wasn’t fair. Being the youngest of six sons sucked great big hairy donkey’s balls. All Ross’s life, his older brothers had gotten the best deal every way, every time, and he’d always been stuck with the leftovers no one else wanted.
Take his apartment for example. Right now the family home was overrun with tradesmen renovating two of his brothers’ apartments plus building a whole new playroom for the two grandkids. And what was he getting? Absolutely nothing. Zip, zilch, nada, a big fat zero.
Of course his apartment was on the short side of the rectangle so there was no extra space for him to expand his apartment into anyway. And he didn’t have a kid to use the playroom. He didn’t even have a partner. Four of his brothers were all happily partnered up, but not him. Oh no. As always, he was overlooked, neglected, left until last.
If he dared open his mouth to say anything, anything at all, one of his older brothers would throw him in the swimming pool. And right now, March in Ohio, was not the time for a swim. Likely he’d catch his death of pneumonia. Would anyone care? Absolutely not.
Ross stopped pacing and his mental rant. Actually that last bit was unfair. His brothers did care about him, but they would still throw him into the pool.
“Why can’t I ever be first? Be the cherished, most important one? Why can’t I even find a man I like enough for more than a one-night stand?”
Ross stood at the doorway of his not-being-extended-dammit apartment and stared across the courtyard garden at a group of tradesmen framing up the third-story extension above his parents’ apartment. One of the men was incredibly yummy in just the way Ross liked his men. Big, broad shoulders, bulging with muscles, tanned arms, and longish hair held off his face with a bandana.
Ross left his apartment and walked into the garden. The courtyard was in the center of the house, which had blank walls to the outside and all the windows and doors opening into this central area. In addition to the swimming pool, there was a large barbecue and a Zen garden his mother regularly changed around. He stood looking at the intricately placed pebbles and sand brushed into patterns, but it didn’t completely soothe his disgruntled humor.
Stuart emerged from the apartment he shared with Ross’s brother Jude. Stuart was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and running shoes, and pushing the baby carriage holding his two-week-old daughter, Kathleen. Stuart and Kathleen had moved in with Jude a week ago, and for the past four days, Stuart had gone running, pushing the baby carriage, every day.
Ross thought he was quite mad. It was two miles to the park, half a mile around the park, and two miles back home. For some unknown reason, Stuart seemed to think that was a nice run. Not to Ross’s mind it wasn’t, but he waved to Stuart anyway. What was that saying? Different strokes for different folks? Yeah, well, he wasn’t running from here to the park for anyone. He wasn’t planning to take his sweater off anytime soon either. The sun might be shining, but the weather was a long way short of hot.
Just a week ago they’d all been sitting on Lanikai Beach, Oahu, sipping champagne at the wedding of his brother Storm to his partner, Cruz. Ross sighed. Damn, that seemed like a million years ago as well as a million miles away. Well, it was more like five thousand miles, but it might as well have been a million. Ross kicked at one of the pebbles on the edge of the Zen garden moodily.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” yelled a loud, angry voice.
Guiltily, Ross pulled his foot back from his mother’s garden and looked around for who had dared to chastise him. That voice sure as hell wasn’t his mother’s. But no one was looking at him. However, all the tradesmen on the roof were staring out to the road, and the big brawny one, the yummy one, was waving his arms around.
“Stop that.”
“Leave them alone,” yelled a few of the others.
Oh fuck! Was someone hurting baby Kathleen?
Ross raced for the exit from the courtyard, a wooden door, throwing it open and charging outside. One hundred yards down the road, someone was trying to pull the baby carriage out of Stuart’s hands. Stuart was holding on with all his strength, his heels digging back onto the concrete path and all his weight thrown against his opponent.
The workmen yelled even louder, and out of the corner of his eye, Ross saw a rope thrown down the wall, but he had no time to worry about what they were doing. He ran as fast as he could and launched himself onto the back of the man trying to grab Kathleen’s baby carriage.
Ross weighed more than Stuart, but probably not as much as the attacker, who had quite a solid build. Between him and Stuart, though, it was enough to make the man let go and swing his arm up in a punch toward the baby carriage. In response, Stuart shrieked and dived between the man and Kathleen.
And then another man was there was well. He hauled the attacker around by his shirt and slammed his fist into his face, dropping him to the ground.
Stuart was still screaming, “Kathleen, Kathleen,” and snatched his daughter out of the carriage, holding her in his arms.
Kathleen must have been distressed by all the noise and movement, and she started to howl as well.
Ross grabbed the attacker and turned him over. The man swung his fists up in the air, but this time, Ross was prepared for them and blocked his hands with his forearm.
“Frame. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/spoiled-brat-wants-man-to-love-him

Heartthrob Wants Man to Love (MM)

Heartthrob Wants Man to Love (MM)
by Cara Adams (A Man to Love book 4)

The Hill family is in Hawaii to celebrate Storm and Cruz’s marriage. But some people aren’t paying attention to the powdered-sugar sand and turquoise ocean at Lanikai Beach, Oahu.
Stuart Harris has no job and no home. Axl threw him out of his condo when he fell in love with Charles, and no one wants to employ a single father of a newborn child. Stuart’s going to have to let someone else claim his precious infant daughter, Kathleen, because he can’t provide for her. He longs to take his treasured child home but time is almost up.
Jude Hill sees his despair and talks to him. Stuart’s pain is so intense Jude knows he can’t just be a conman, and asks to meet Kathleen and the surrogacy company. He’s determined to help and involves the entire Hill family in rescuing Kathleen and Stuart. But can such a hasty arrangement even work? Will everyone adjust to it?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/heartthrob-wants-man-to-love

STORY EXCERPT

Jude Hill kept his gaze firmly on the hand clutching his drink. It seemed as though every time he looked up, every female in the entire state of Hawaii tried to come on to him. He cursed his golden blond hair and bright blue eyes and his clean-cut all-American good looks. He felt like asking someone to paint a sign for him to carry saying, “I’m gay!” and was just about frustrated enough to do it. Although he supposed the women would then try to convert him instead of leaving him alone. If only a cute man started chasing him he might be interested. So many of his brothers had found their soul mates, and he hadn’t. And never would unless all these females would go the fuck away.
Jude sighed heavily. That was why he was here in Hawaii in the first place. His brother Storm and Storm’s fiancé, Cruz, were getting married on Wednesday, and the entire family had come to Lanikai Beach, Oahu, to celebrate. It seemed as if, between them, they’d filled up half the hotel. Jude, his five brothers, three of them with partners, his parents, and his little sister and her two-month-old son. Even Cruz’s elderly parents were here. Between them all, they were quite a crowd, and so many men had drawn the attention of the ladies. The joke was that they were all gay. All six brothers, though not his sister Chris. However she still hadn’t completely gotten over the asshole idiot who’d gotten her pregnant and then tried to ruin her life. Right now her whole heart was focused on baby CC.
Jude wondered if he could pretend the kid was his. Maybe then the women would leave him alone. But that wouldn’t be fair to Christabelle. CC was hers and hers alone, although they all adored him. She wasn’t even his real sister. His oldest brother had found her being attacked in a park when she was pregnant and brought her home for their mother, a retired nurse, to care for. Seraphina had longed for a daughter all her life, and in no time at all, Chris had snuck into all their hearts, becoming their daughter and sister. CC was the grandchild Jude’s parents had longed for and had a veritable plethora of doting uncles.
Just then Chris walked toward him, holding a smiling CC in her arms. The baby was wearing a garment he’d just learned was called a rashie. He had no idea what the word was slang for, but the little blue suit was designed to prevent his delicate baby skin from sunburn. He’d pulled off his sunhat, though, and was holding it in his hand and crowing with laughter.
Chris slid into the seat beside him and tried to put the baby’s hat back on one-handed.
“Let me.”
“Real men wear their sunhats, CC. You really won’t like it if you end up with a burned nose.” He tied the blue ribbons under CC’s dimpled chin as he spoke, and the baby observed him seriously. Jude didn’t know how much CC understood, but he made no attempt to pull the hat off immediately.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked Chris.
“Just a soda please. Sprite if they have it.”
He nodded. For a moment he’d forgotten she was still only eighteen, not legally allowed to drink, although he supposed everyone would turn a blind eye when it came time to toast the grooms at the wedding.
He got himself another light beer as well as Chris’s Sprite and was walking back from the bar when he noticed a very attractive man with red-brown hair sitting under a beach umbrella. At first he thought the man was staring at Chris. She was beautiful. Still too thin to his mind but not frail looking, as she’d been when she’d first moved into their house. Right now, dressed in a sarong in shades of purple, mauve, and lilac, with purple flip-flops and matching purple fingernails and toenails, she was well worth gazing at.
But the man wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at CC, almost inhaling every tiny move the baby made. For a moment Jude wondered if he was a pedophile or kidnapper until he saw the tears shining in the man’s eyes.
Oh shit. Had the man recently had his own infant die? How tragic.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/heartthrob-wants-man-to-love

Nice Guy Wants Man to Love (MM)

"A Man to Love" book 3

Attorney Sawyer Hill blames Middle Child Syndrome for always trying to be nice instead of looking for the man he needs to complete his life. Lieutenant Mitchell Clarke has no such hesitation. He knows that Sawyer is the man he wants but life keeps getting in the way.

Instead of pursuing romance, Mitch is more likely to be pursuing criminals. Tom Frame is still determined to control Christabelle Nelson and the unborn child he is certain will be his son. He is constantly finding new ways to harass the entire family in his attempts to get to what he is sure will be Thomas Frame Junior. And now it’s almost Christmas when Mitch’s life will become even more hectic and complicated and the baby is due to be born. Will he ever be able to claim Mr. Nice Guy as his man?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/nice-guy-wants-man-to-love

STORY EXCERPT

He’d recognized that big biker with the shaggy black hair the moment he’d seen him at the house that had been graffitied. Atticus his name was, and he was a regular at the gay bar, Midnight on Tenth. He was devastatingly handsome in a bad-boy kind of way, but not Mitch’s type at all. No, the attorney was more the kind of man Mitch liked. Quiet, intelligent, friendly. Of course the bad boy might be intelligent and friendly as well, but Mitch didn’t find badness the huge turn-on some other men obviously did.

Mitch found himself thinking about that home and the people in it several times when things in the precinct were quiet. The place had about a dozen men living there as well as the one pregnant little teenage girl they were all so protective of, and the old man and his wife. The ex-boyfriend who harassed her was damn lucky some of them hadn’t chopped him up and used him as plant fertilizer in the gardens of the home. The biker looked more than capable of doing such a thing, and some of the other men had seemed pretty cross at him as well.

But there was nothing Mitch had been able to do about the case. The video footage was blurry, the men’s faces were mostly hidden, and they didn’t have enough of the license plate to make a records search worth the time and effort for a vandalism case.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. He’d actually run the plate himself when he didn’t have any urgent work to do, but there were over a hundred matches so he hadn’t done anything more about it.

It was strange. He’d never expected to find “the one.” He only had to look around himself to see too many police officers completely in love with their wives or husbands and their marriages falling apart. Police work was never neat and orderly or eight ’til five. Not only did they work rotating shifts covering weekends and holidays and twenty-four-hour days, but also, when something urgent happened, shifts went out the window and cops kept working. That was not conducive to family life. Partners might understand in their mind that criminals had to be stopped, but when that meant flights to long-awaited events were missed or dad never ever saw Junior hit the winning run at baseball, people became a whole lot less understanding and demanded that their partner make the effort to be present for special days.

Mitch had no intention of breaking a kid’s heart by not being there for something incredibly important. Saying no to kids of his own was doable. Saying no to ever finding his soul mate was a much bigger challenge. However, the likelihood of meeting a man who would not only understand in his mind but also accept what had to be in his heart might be impossible. Which meant enjoying a one-night stand from time to time at the gay bar was about the best he could hope for.

Mitch picked up his coffee and took a mouthful, only to spit it back into the cup. “Yuk! When it did that get cold?”

He stood up, holding his cup, to go and make fresh coffee for himself when the landline on his desk rang. Instantly he sat down and picked up the telephone with one hand while setting the cup down and pulling a notepad and pen into the center of his desk with the other.

“Clarke.”

“It’s Sawyer Hill here. I hope I’m not calling you at an inconvenient time.”

“Not at all. I was just about to go and get some coffee.” And what a stupid statement that is. Now he’ll feel embarrassed he’s keeping me away from my beverage.

“I have a list of the names of the young men who were prepared to follow Tom Frame’s suggestion and libel Christabelle Nelson. The list isn’t confidential. The men had to issue public apologies. I just wondered if it would be possible to check the license plate against these names. There are twenty of them, including Tom himself.”

Mitch could hear a slight note of uncertainty in Sawyer’s voice, and that was very telling. The man was an attorney, used to speaking in public. Well, his job was arguing a case in public. So the fact that he was a fraction hesitant indicated he was well aware that he was pushing the envelope to make this request.

“Searches have to be justified in the budget, and this case has no budget,” said Mitch. It was the best he could do. He hadn’t refused, but he hadn’t agreed either.

Sawyer sighed. “That seems to be the way it is everywhere these days. The matter is very important to the family. Mr. Frame has been an extreme source of trouble to Ms. Nelson. If the task could be delegated to a civilian worker or an off-duty officer, the family would be prepared to pay for the time the search would take and any costs incurred.”

That was interesting. He’d guessed the family wasn’t penniless living in such a huge compound. Besides, searching for twenty names wouldn’t take all that long really. Although Sawyer didn’t know there’d only been about a hundred potential matches.

“E-mail me the list and I’ll see what I can organize. You understand that potential matches are no indication of guilt. There may be a passel of them.”

“I do understand, but if the car was stolen, it might also help you catch the thief.”

“That’s true.” Except that he already knew no car matching the part of the plate they’d been given had been stolen that night. That was what had led him to run the search in the first place.

Mitch gave Sawyer his e-mail address and heard the keys clicking as he did so. They made some desultory conversation as the file came through, and then Sawyer thanked Mitch and hung up.

But Mitch knew he’d check the list in his own time, and now that he had Sawyer’s e-mail address he could contact him again. Besides, no matter what the outcome of the search, he knew damn well he would be reaching out to the good-looking attorney. Nothing might come of it, but the opportunity was too attractive to ignore.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/nice-guy-wants-man-to-love