What A Bear Wants

Ahoy hoy!--took that from Bills, don't tell her. I've got a treat for you lovely people. A peek into my newest tale, "What a Bear Wants." I'm going to be candidly honest when I say this story was the source of angst, laughter, frustration and many, many rants from mine mouth to the ears of my two partners in crime at Weyward Thoughts. They have no choice but to listen to me, I force feed them my neurosis. But I've discovered something rather wonderful, even the stories that make you just a bit insane will always have a special place inside the beating thing that pumps blood. With that being said, here's an excerpt that involves a bear, a wolf, and his lack of wardrobe...







Excerpt: 

There was a bear on her porch. Not a teddy bear with a top hat and dead eyes...but an actual bear...sitting there. Fifteen hundred pounds of grizzly ass was calmly resting against the strong wood of her front steps and Fallon didn’t know whether to turn and run away or attempt to find Gladys. She did neither; she just stood there, staring.

When that started to bore her, she calmly folded her arms across her chest and asked, “Is there something you’re trying to communicate to me by doing this?” Clearly it always had to be the extreme with Ransom and it was obvious that the big bastard noticed she’d been going out of her way to stay away from him over the last few days. Fallon figured she’d be able to keep the routine up since his week at Wilder Lodge was almost up and their supposed meeting wouldn’t be until Friday. She’d been disappearing early in the morning and coming back as late as possible; making sure to stay out of sight and out of mind.

It was almost three a.m. The rest of the Lodge silent as every predator returned to their respective cabins; any hunting or mating that had taken place wrapped up and put away for another night. Fallon had spent the day taking a drive through the mountainside, trying to resist the pull to come back and seek out the giant-sized mammal currently gazing at her silently; fathomless brown eyes glinting in the lone walkway lights in front of her cabin. It wasn’t hard to figure out how he’d found it. All he’d had to do was follow her scent far enough away from the main area of the Lodge and here he was.

Goddammit.

“It’s late and I’m getting crankier by the minute, Ransom, what do you want?” She shoved her hands in her back pockets, more so to keep him from noticing the way they trembled. God, what the fuck was wrong with her? A few minutes in his presence and she turned into some pup who hadn’t reached her first heat yet. The fact that he could have that effect, that he could make her crazy without really trying, disturbed everything inside of Fallon’s A-type personality. Control. She had to get some control.

Finally Ransom shifted and sat back, leaning on his elbows as his gaze raked over her. She kept her eyes on his face and his face only because if she allowed them to venture any lower, she’d be lost. Control.

“You’ve been hiding from me.” He accused.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t hide from anybody at any time.”

His head cocked a bit. “And yet, you’ve been scurrying off every day, away from me and everyone else, like a hare that knows it’s being watched by a fox.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “And I take it you’re the fox?”

Ransom’s smile was...feral. It sent a shudder down her spine that had nothing to do with fear or revulsion. The walls of her sex clenched and she barely stopped herself from letting out a startled yip when he suddenly stood and her eyes caught sight of the effortless beauty his body held. There were so many scars along with what looked to be tattooed paw marks that stretched from his left hip all the way up his hard bricked torso and across his chest just to stop at his right pec. Every part of him was tan and strong.

He wasn’t bulky but he wasn’t slim either. She couldn’t even describe him as having a linebacker’s body. There was muscle stacked on top of muscle but so proportionate that it didn’t look unnaturally formed.

His shoulders were incredibly wide, as was his chest, leading to a defined stomach, cut pelvis, lean hips and huge thighs that ended in well-developed calves and long feet. The man was...perfection. And the tree trunk that lazily hung between his legs? Well that was just...it was unfair. For a brief moment she asked herself who would be brave enough to attempt placing that in any orifice on their body.

Me. I’d do it. I’d go where no sane she-predator has gone before. I’d break him and his giving tree.

Apparently he was more than a little comfortable with his body because he made no attempt to cover it, just came down the stairs and stood before her in all his naked glory.

So should I just bend over now or...? No! No you will not! Get your eyes off his cock! Now! Right now goddammit!

Fallon swallowed, looking away from Ransom’s clear lack of modesty towards the sky. “Nothing even adjacent to a fuck is being given by you right now.”

He snorted. “Do I have something to be ashamed of?”

She tucked her lips in, refusing to answer that.

Ransom stepped closer and moved his head over her own until she looked at him. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t bullshit me.” He cut in before she could finish. “You’ve been on ninja stealth mode for the last three days.”

“Which is your business how?”

His brow quirked just the tiniest bit.

Fallon threw up her hands. “Maybe I haven’t been around because I don’t like you and I’m counting down the days until you’re off my territory.”

He nodded. “Maybe...or maybe you like me too much and you’re trying to bypass the attraction the both of us feel when we’re near one another.”

That hit too close to home. “I don’t even know you.”

Ransom shrugged. “You know enough.”

Taking a step backwards as he took one forward and the scent of tea tree hit her squarely in the face, she gritted out, “What is it that you want from me?”

He stared at her for the longest time. “Do you really want the answer to that question?”

“Yes.”

The look he gave her made her incredibly uncomfortable, like my pussy requests permission to borrow your face for a moment uncomfortable. Then he answered, quite simply, “You, Fallon. I want you.”  With one hand he reached out and ran his thumb over her bottom lip and that simple touch alone caused her lids to slide close. “From the moment I saw this mouth all I wanted was you.” 

What a Bear Wants is now on Amazon!!! 

God Bless America...

     (murmuring) And the photographer who graciously used their talent to take that photo so it could be shared with myself and all the other sexual deviants like me...
      Annnnnd back to the subject matter at hand. No, no, eyes up front! Stay focused! I'm attempting to make this as short as possible so you lovely people can do me the honor of purchasing and enjoying my newest tale. I have to be honest here, this one was a bit of struggle; slightly out of my comfort zone even. Particularly because these two characters managed to break my heart and mend it all over again through every chapter.
      Coming from a family full of Marines and Navy men, I know first hand the struggles of being a soldier. Or better yet, being the spouse of a soldier, the father of a soldier, the mother, brother etc. It is, by no means an easy ride. And well, I found myself trying to find humor in something that could be devastating.
      Not all military stories have happy endings. Not all men and women get to come home whole. It took me a while before I was able to place the beat of my own drum against the base of Zuly and Fitz's; before I was able to truly appreciate what my own characters were teaching me. Love knows no bounds.  If I didn't realize that before, I suddenly took time enough to wipe my tears and evaluate that very thing after they were done with me. A SEAL's Heart is close to MY heart and I hope that it becomes close to your own.

Excerpt: 

       Fitz let her go, shaking his head. “I’m not doing this with you.” He picked

up his cane and started around her.

      “Yeah, that’s right,” she mocked with a glibness she didn’t really feel.

      “Walk right past Zuly because she’s your favorite toy. Because she’ll always be

there for you to fall back on. Because you don’t really give a fuck how she feels.

       Because you’ll never love her the way she loves you...”

       Zuly could sense the moment it happened; the moment she pushed too

far.

       He stopped in his tracks, shoulders tense as his cane once again hit the

ground, fists clenching at his sides. Fitz turned slowly and grabbed her to him

with a quickness that took the breath from her lungs. She had a second to

search his face. “Fitz?”

      Staring down at her, shadows playing against his features, Fitzgerald

Donahue Carrigan leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t light. It wasn’t sweet. It

wasn’t romantic. There was a deliberate roughness in the way he pressed his

mouth to her own; in the way he pried her lips apart with his tongue and swept

it inside.

      Zuly’s hands fisted in his shirt once again then went lax as she melted

against him, his arms caging around her as he pulled her body just that much

closer. One huge hand let go of her biceps to reach up and run through her

hair, gripping the strands firmly and pulling her head back for his assault as

he nipped her lips, sucking the bottom rim into his mouth then releasing it

with a wet pop. The slight sting at her scalp failed to even register as he licked

and nibbled his way up the side of her neck, gently gripped where her pulse

hammered between his teeth. His other hand swept down her back and to her

ass, squeezing in a firm caress that had Zuly panting with the exertion it took

not to fall at his feet.

      He kissed her like he owned her. Like he knew every secret valley and

plane her body possessed. Like she’d been fantasizing about from the time she

had her first self-produced orgasm while calling his name. Like he’d been

waiting to do this for years. Fitz kissed her like she was his. And Zuly would

acknowledge that, in this moment, she very much was. That right now she

could never imagine the feel of another’s touch.

     Then suddenly he stopped and she whimpered.

     Pressing the same mouth that had stolen her ability to process what just

happened to her ear, he whispered, “I love you more than you’ll ever be able to

grasp. So much so that it’s almost biblical in its proportions. So much so that

it could make God jealous. I smile for you. I laugh for you. I breathe for you.

You hold me in the palm of your hand, Zuly. And there is no place else I’d

rather be. But you need to go back. Now.” Fitz gently but firmly pushed her

away from him and walked away.

     This time, she let him.

A SEAL's Heart is now available at: http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/seals-heart.html By all means, help yourself!!! 

Now This Is A Story...

All about how...No, no, I'm not rapping. That is not happening. Why? Because its too early and I'd never have anyone visit my blog ever again...like ever. Now, on to more important manners! Did yah miss me? Who are we kidding of course you did!!! Why? Because the sunshine that is me is quite pleasant no? Yes! I owe you people an explanation as to what it is you're currently witnessing to the left of your lovely screen. Shara made me do it! No, seriously, the woman's a menace! She harasses, she bribes, she threatens to MDK the whole east coast--eventually, you count your losses and just give in, too afraid to pull out of the garage in the morning. Seriously...she frightens me. Have you ever seen a fox stalk a hare? People, I'm the hare. Unfortunately she'll simply give an innocent blink and pretend as though she doesn't rule with a steel spike on her boots and leather in her whip. You're gonna tell her I said that aren't you? Traitor! And now that my ADHD has run it's course, I'd like to tell you a bit about the lovely Luciano "The Philly Brawler" Antonelli and his lady love Samara Blackwell--who BTW has a nickname too but it really is early and I really am too scrambled to remember it. These two were a emotional roller coaster of laughs and tearful moments; tearful because sometimes I can be made into a beeyotch by my own story lines. And the insanity that seemed to latch itself onto their tumultuous, confusing, physics defying relationship by way of friends and family really did make me chuckle at the oddest times. All in all, I used the right word when I called this a roller coaster ride. Why? because no matter how many times you scream, you throw your hands up, you have a near death experience. You want to get back on again, and again, and again... 
     Wanna read it do you? Of course you do! Calm yourself. All you have to do is click the cover to get to the buy link! But it doesn't stop there! Here's a wonderful excerpt to get your juices...er flowing? Was that the word I was looking for here? (shrug) Guess so. Hehehe...juices...

Excerpt: 


        Heavy brows drew downward as his amber eyes gazed at her unflinchingly, and the moment they slid from her face down to her torso, her stomach dropped. He knew. He knew because he’d heard and he was...
        She couldn’t read his expression, didn’t know exactly what he thought, but when he returned those oh, so familiar irises to her own something ignited inside like her body recognized exactly who was standing in front of it. Samara swallowed to retain moisture in her mouth, the shouting match between Nyssa and Sansone turning into something muffled, sounding almost like the teachers on Charlie Brown.
      “Yo!” Luciano suddenly snapped, causing her to jump as he pointed toward their siblings. “You two shut it.” He looked back to her. “You. Bedroom. Now.” Stepping past her, he strode toward the back as if he owned every square foot not only of her condo but her.
        Samara stood there, watching his powerful steps, staring at the way his shoulders rolled with every step.
       “Now, Sammie,” he demanded again without turning around, his voice casual.
       Chewing her lip, she followed. When she reached her room, he was leaning against the wall near the door, something small in his hand. She sucked in a huge breath when she realized it was the ultrasound picture. Samara had set it out so she could frame it later.
       The door closed with a soft click behind her. His doing. She would’ve kept it open, too terrified to stay anywhere alone with him not knowing what it was he was about to say or how he’d heard about the accidental announcement so fast. Not only that, but how exactly had he managed to drop everything and come all the way to Manhattan? Why had he dropped everything to come all the way up to Manhattan?
     Was he here to tell her to her face that he didn’t want anything to do with her or the baby? Maybe he was. Maybe he resented her. Maybe he’d never had plans for a child. Maybe he’d walk out and never speak to her again. Did it make her weak that she didn’t think she’d be able to handle any of those scenarios? Was she stupid because all she really wanted was to hear him say he’d be here, that he was happy despite the unusual circumstances? Maybe. Or maybe she was human and a little vulnerable and simply wanted him not to regret the one night they’d had, because she’d never regretted it, and she never would. How could she? It had been one of the best times in her life. Point. Blank.
       Samara lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest, determined to live with whatever was about to leave his mouth. If she had to, she’d do it alone. It would be hard, that much she knew, and she’d probably cry and have to keep Nyssa from nuking all of Philly in a homicidal rage, but so be it.
      Luciano straightened and walked toward her, eyes still on that ultrasound. When he finally lifted them, there was an inexplicable emotion in his gaze that took her breath away. Then his lips curved until they spread into a full-blown smile right before he was laughing. “When I asked if you wanted an Antonelli inside you this isn’t exactly what I meant, but I do believe it’ll do me just as much good.”
     That was when Samara burst into tears.