The Sons of Johnny Hastings- Sam Pride

Welcome to ‘The Sons of Johnny Hastings blog tour’. If you haven’t bought this awesome book bundle yet you’re really missing out on some hot spanko cowboy stories. Just click on a cover to the right of the screen and it’ll take you to the Blushing Books website. See? Easy peasy.

Last week we got a sneak peek at Abel, the oldest of the half-brothers. ( He’s yummy) This week we have Sam on board, but let’s put Renee Rose on the hot seat first and get her to answer one itty bitty question.

Hi, Renee, thanks so much for stopping by. Here we go!

If you could be transported back in time to the nineteenth century, what is the most appealing thing about it? The least appealing thing?

Well, fantasy world, only, I love that women were considered property– LOL.  Naturally, I’d want a strong man who spanked…

Ah yes,  a strong handsome cowboy in a pair of tight jeans, shirt opened to the navel, stern expression, big hands and big…yikes, I’m getting carried away. Let’s move on to

 

RENEEThe Outlaw’s Bride by Renee Rose

Mabelle Lawson had been managing her dead sister’s ranch without help for three months. The last thing she needs is a band of outlaws showing up and pushing her around. The Curly James gang members have no patience for her sass, and when their leader attempts to strike her with his fist, one of his men volunteers to spank her instead. She wants to hate the good-looking outlaw, but he seems to have her well-being at heart, even risking his life to protect her from the other men.

Unjustly accused of murder, Sam Pride is on the run and his luck worsens when he tangles with the Curly James gang. The only bright spot is the little spitfire rancher who steals his heart with her courage and spunk. When the two set off together for Cheyenne and then Denver, sparks fly and their magnetic connection grows.

Still, Mabelle is not sure if Sam will commit and even if he does, can he clear his name before a bounty hunter shoots him or brings him in?

 

Excerpt:

She stopped short in the doorway, shocked to find Sam seated on the stool under Sally, milking her with efficient pulls, his experience obvious. The muscles of his arms bulged as he worked and she found herself wondering how it would feel to have his big hands on her body. But then she had already experienced that, had she not? And it had been quite painful. Except now she found the sting of the memory gone, replaced by a girlish excitement, as if she could not wait to find herself over his knee again.

She shook her head. She must be mad.

“Good morning,” he said, looking up at her from under the brim of his hat. He had blue eyes, with smile lines crinkling the outer corners. She ignored the flutters of excitement in her belly.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“What does it look like?”

She walked over and leaned her hip against the stall, watching him work. The water trough appeared to be full of clean water, and the cow munched fresh hay. He looked at ease in  the stall, like a rugged, handsome rancher, except for the twin pistols at his waist. A cowboy, then. The kind who rode the herds across the territories. Sally chewed her fresh hay as if the newcomer was no stranger to her.

“I am surprised she let you. It took weeks to get her used to me.”

He smiled. “It is all about confidence with animals. You gotta let them know who is in charge. I gave her no choice to refuse.”

His words reminded her again of her spanking and her cheeks grew warm. He glanced over his shoulder at her and his mouth turned up, as if he guessed her thoughts.

“When are you leaving?” she demanded.

His smile faded. “It will be up to Curly. I doubt we’ll depart in this rain, though.”

“Why is Curly in charge of you?” she asked, sensing the wrongness of the dynamic. Sam dominated the entire group, his leadership, clear-thinking and skill obviously exceeding the rest of them. Yet the men all deferred to Curly.

“He’s not in charge of me,” Sam hissed. “And I am not a member of his gang,” he declared, as if it mattered to him what she believed. “I am Wanted, though,” he said. “And so are the three of them. They are dangerous men, Mabelle. I intend to separate myself from them as soon as I can. But first I need to separate them from you.”

Gratitude rushed in, unbidden. Gratitude and something more: need.

Oh, Christ, she had been away from civilization too long. Perhaps any act of kindness now would cause her to fancy herself in love. Loneliness caused her to fall for the first man who appeared on her doorstep—an outlaw who spanked.

 

 

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