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A Steamy Preview from:
Westward Bound
a Jackson Brothers Prequel
Release date: 10/24/23
Fall 1862
Letty let out a frustrated grumble as she wiped her damp, sticky hands on the towel for what felt like the hundredth time. It came away stained crimson with blood. The sight didn’t usually make her sick. That it was her husband’s blood made the difference.
Woken in the middle of the night, she strained her bleary eyes to focus on her task in the dimness.
​
“I need more light,” she muttered under her breath, her forehead furrowing in concentration.
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Henry tensed but didn’t make a sound as she probed the jagged, seeping wound. “We’ve got every oil lamp we own blazing. Do the best you can.”
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“My best isn’t good enough when your life is at stake. You need a doctor.”
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He shrugged his broad shoulders then grimaced in pain. “I trust you digging around for a bullet in my flesh a helluva lot more than that decrepit old sawbones in town who calls himself a physician.”
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“That makes one of us,” was her terse reply.
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She didn’t mean to be cross with him. The man was injured, for heaven’s sake. In her years patching up him and the boys, she’d learned a thing or two about herbs and such, but she’d never dug a bullet out of anyone before. What if she made it worse, or it turned putrid because of her digging, or, god forbid, she couldn’t get it to stop bleeding?
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He was doing a lot of that now. The blood oozing out of the gaping hole in his shoulder made it hard to see what she was doing, and her makeshift surgical instruments grew even more slippery. Letty picked up one of the linen cloths from the pile on the table and wiped the wound clean. Next, she grabbed the whiskey, and prepared to splash some in the bullet hole.
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“This is going to sting,” she warned.
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“Give it to me first,” he demanded, taking two long pulls from the half-empty bottle when she passed it to him.
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His jaw clenched, and he nodded, steeling himself for what would come next. When she poured the locally distilled firewater on the wound, the sharp scent of alcohol filled the air. She could imagine the searing pain as the liquid met his skin. Her big, brave husband didn’t so much as flinch, not even a hiss escaping his lips. In his place, she’d have screamed so loudly the echoes would have reached the neighboring farm two miles east.
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Thirty minutes later, after more digging and a lot more swigging from Henry, she declared the wound clean and stitched it closed with her finest black thread. Next, she fashioned a bulky bandage in front and back, wrapping swaths of linen around his shoulder and across his chest like a sash to keep it in place.
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Letty stepped back and heaved a heavy sigh. The first deep breath she’d taken since he staggered through the door drenched in blood.
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“You’re lucky it went clean through without hitting bone or anything vital.”
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He looked down, eyeing her handiwork, and moved his arm as though testing it. “You make a fine doctor, Leticia. I don’t feel a thing.” With his good arm, he encircled her waist and pulled her between his knees.
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“You’re a damn sight prettier than any of the mustached quacks hereabouts, and you smell better, too.”
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“You have a half bottle of whiskey to thank for not feeling the pain, but you will when the effect of it wears off.”
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“I best be getting my homecoming lovin’ before that happens, then,” he said with a lopsided grin right before he dipped his face into the bend of her neck.
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“Henry…” she said in warning.
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But he paid her no mind, using his chin to move her collar aside as his lips sought her throat. As he spread kisses northward to the tender spot behind her ear, a rush of heat spread through her body. She’d missed him so much. Missed his kisses, being in his arms, and snuggling up against him at night. But strong, healthy men died from bullet wounds, and the fear he might suffer the same fate was still at the forefront of her mind. This was hardly the time to get amorous.
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She wiggled and squirmed, trying to move away, but only half-heartedly, afraid she’d hurt him or start his freshly tended wound to bleeding again. “You’re injured. You can’t possibly mean to do this now.”
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“I’ve been away for two weeks, woman. You better believe I intend to do it now. Since the boys are at school, and the table is handy—”
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“Only because I needed it to perform surgery!” she declared.
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He ignored her, his sole focus getting past her clothes to bare skin. “Hitch up your skirts and climb up,” he ordered in a passion-filled husky tone. “I’ve missed you something fierce, darlin’.”
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“We can’t do it on the kitchen table! It’s improper.”
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“In our house, on our table, ’course we can,” he argued, the whiskey slurring his words a little.
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Completely disregarding the bullet hole in his shoulder, he hauled her on top of him as he lay back. His hand on the injured side sank into her hair, and he pulled her head down to claim her lips. The other hand rucked her skirt up and quickly found the split seam of her drawers, tearing them open more.
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“Henry Lucas Jackson!” she exclaimed, but his hungry, searching mouth muffled her outrage.
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“I’m injured,” he replied. “This will soothe me more than an entire case of whiskey. But you’re gonna have to help.”
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“You’re incorrigible,” she protested, but even she heard how feeble it sounded. Wounded, scruffy, and drunk, he still made her heart race and her body yearn for the lovin’ he promised.
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Sitting up, she helped him open his belt and breeches, which were nigh on impossible for him to undo one-handed. When his long, thick shaft sprang free and stood upright between them, he took it in his hand and stroked it.
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“I ache for you, Letty. Saddle up and take me deep inside your sweet cunny.”
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Without further hesitation, she swung a leg over his hips and lowered herself onto his rigid length. Her wetness, which a kiss, a whispered word, and a glance from her husband, never failed to produce, allowed her to sink onto him easily. She moaned as he filled her while he bucked his hips and thrust even deeper.
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His good hand curled around her bottom as he ordered, “Ride me hard and bring us both to pleasure.”
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In the heat of the moment, and with gratitude the bullet hadn’t entered his chest two inches lower, and to the left, she bobbed up and down on her husband’s stiff shaft in an utterly wanton fashion. She disregarded what she must look like with her breasts bouncing lewdly in the open placket of her blouse and that they were doing the act where her family ate supper every night. As they found release together, Letty didn’t care a whit if someone heard her ardent cries or her husband’s lusty shouts. Later was soon enough to worry about that.
Whoever said you can't come home again wasn't in love with Nate Dawson.
Nearly two decades after she left Halfway, Nebraska, Audrey Porter returns to the small town she once called home following the death of her beloved grandmother. With Nana gone, she must protect the family farm from her opportunistic mother. It isn't long before she is reminded of all the reasons she moved away. Though she no longer lets the small-town gossips bother her, ignoring the rekindled feelings she has for her teenage crush proves more difficult.
For the last 20 years, Nate Dawson has been the hometown hero. High school football star, cattle ranching royalty, and now the county sheriff, he is admired, desired, and respected. But beneath his controlled, no-nonsense exterior is the tender heart of a young man who never forgot the girl who got away. With Audrey finally within reach, the smitten sheriff is determined not to waste his second chance.
As Audrey works through her grief, battles her mother in court, and wrestles with the decision to keep or sell the farm, Nate refuses to let her push him away. Will surrendering to the love she has always wanted bring Audrey home for good?
Publisher's Note: Halfway Home is an angsty, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers, small-town romance with enough steam and intrigue to keep you listening late into the night. Originally released as a novella in the no longer available Cowboys for a Cause anthology, it has been revised and more than doubled in length to make a return trip worth your while.
After fifteen years of service, Special Forces Captain Tony Rossi is home for good and ready to transition to civilian life. With his business affairs in order, he wants to focus on his personal life and reconnect with the unforgettable Megan Sinclair. Their age gap and Cap's tours of duty abroad have forced him to remain distant for far too long. But Megan is all grown up now, and without any barriers in their way, Cap is determined to pursue his heart's every desire.
Megan has loved Tony forever, but she never knew he felt the same. Falling in his lap at a party gives her the chance to prove she's not just a cute kid anymore, but after years of unrequited love, she's hesitant about taking a giant leap with him.
When Megan finds herself embroiled in a dangerous drug cartel conspiracy, Tony must set aside his plans for their future in order to keep her safe in the present. As their dreams of a happily ever after are threatened, can Tony protect her while proving she was meant to be his all along?
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