But if you'd like a more realistic contemporary erotic romance with a feisty red-headed biker queen who catches the eye (along with other parts!) of an ex-KGB agent who never expected to fall in love with a woman who eschews monogamy, then read on.
(Note: Hustle on over to Goodreads before Dec. 9 for my 5 autographed copies give-away!)
And when marketing and advertising executive, Alexandra Blackstone was visited in her Minneapolis office by a man with a heavy Russian accent who said he was surprised to find the fiery red-headed queen of a biker gang wearing a business suit, no parts of her body were dislocated, though some of her office furniture was ruined. When her secretary returned from lunch she
was alarmed by the noises she heard from the office, but wisely refrained from interrupting.
Soon after that, Ivan got a text from his cousin:
Will not be returning to BWCA.
Attempting to tame a wildcat.
Wish me luck.
But that is a story for another time.
Now is that time!
Tough-as-nails businesswoman by day, Alexandra is a biker queen by night. When a large Russian man inserts himself into her life, she follows her instincts to some explosive sex. But he's not willing to share her with her gang, and she's not willing to give up other men. When two of her bikers are killed, Dmitri is the main suspect. How far is he willing to go to keep her to himself? And has she really fallen in love for the first time ever...with a murderer?
Excerpt: Alexandra is alone in her office.
Joyce was heading out to lunch as I walked in, so who's out there?
The door was opened without anyone knocking and a mountain of a man walked through it without a word.
Alexandra's eyes narrowed as she watching him move casually over to the chair on the opposite side of the desk from her and sit down with the supreme confidence of someone who knew he had been expected.
"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my office?" She demanded.
The man studied her closely.
"Your voice is as low and sexy as I thought it would be, based on how you look." He made this observation casually, as if to himself.
Alexandra sat back and glared at him in silence to give herself time to think.
I don't feel threatened by him, but he's definitely a force to be reckoned with. He's not that tall, but he's built so wide that it feels crowded in the office with just the two of us in it. I'll bet there's solid muscle under his clothes...
She frowned with irritation at her own reaction as she felt her juices beginning to leak out of her to soak her lacy black thong.
"I repeat, who the fuck are you? I don't take any appointments at this time of day. I'm trying to catch up on paperwork. I don't have time to dick around with some asshole who pushes his way into my office. Should I call security and have you escorted out?"
His eyebrows rose and his lips turned up slightly.
"You could try. That would give me a reason to come around to your side of the desk." He looked like he found that idea appealing.
Shit! He's got sexy dimples when he smiles. His dark brown eyes are so piercing I feel like he's stripped me in his mind and he's got me bent over the desk already! He must be putting out some powerful pheromones to get me so hot so quickly. Either that or it's been way too long since I got laid. He cleared his throat to get her attention.
"We need to talk, Alexandra Blackstone. I have a message for you."
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the desk, steepling her fingers together, tapping the pointer fingers against each other--a habit she had learned from her Dad who used this gesture to show the speaker had his full attention.
"And what is that message?"
"You need to stay away from the actor known as Raul Roderick. You're not to contact him or any of his family, nor are you to attempt to collect on a threat you made to him that you would find him someday and make him...ahem...make him have sex with you."
Alexandra leaned back and laughed in surprise.
"I think you have me confused with someone else. I don't know what you're talking about."
He leaned forward and Alexandra felt like the air was being pushed toward her, like his tiniest movements were affecting her surroundings.
"Oh, I think you do. You are Alexandra Blackstone, daughter of Thomas Blackstone who founded this marketing company. He had two daughters, no son. You are the elder so you are the one he groomed to take over his business when he retired, which he did last year. He still sits on the board when he's not tanning in Florida."
She frowned, "All of which is public record. None of which suggests I know what the hell you're talking about."
He leaned back with a smile and crossed his legs, his right ankle resting on his left thigh, giving her a good view of the large bulge in his crotch area. She tried to ignore her body's reaction as her inner muscles tensed in anticipation, her nipples beaded against the lacy bra, the moisture continued to pour onto her thong and her breathing sped up as she imagined what was stretching the fabric. She looked up to focus on something...anything else, and found herself staring at the wide fingers resting on the arms of the chair. She blinked in surprise.
Jesus, his cock must be wider than my wrist! He looks like he knows what I'm thinking. He's toying with me, damn him. And he's enjoying it.
"You are also Alex, the red-headed biker queen of a group of Harley riders based out of the Mille Lacs area. You spend your weekends up there during riding weather, staying at a farmhouse owned by your family, surrounded by the gang you recruited personally. You fuck all of the men and keep everyone in line by the sheer force of your personality."
He studied her intently and once again she felt naked under his gaze. She squirmed as she felt herself creating a huge wet spot that soaked through her slip onto her skirt. Damn! I'll have to get my suit dry-cleaned after this!
She attempted to bluff, "I don't know what you're talking about. Now since I have work to do, I suggest you leave now, mister...what was your name?"
"There's no need for lying between us, Alexandra," her name rolled off his tongue to caress her in places she was trying to ignore.
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Or you could just read another romance about a 1,000-year old vampire who has been waiting for "the one" who turns out to be a virginal, slightly over-weight young woman with self-confidence issues. He will expose her to the delights previously known only to women whose gynes don't warm the speculums before the exam. She will try to teach him how to text and twitter, then give up and ignore him when he starts talking about "the old days"--just like her grandfather used to do...