Strong. Sexy. Stubborn. The Alpha Male Blog Hop #AlphaHop

***WINNER ANNOUNCEMENT***
Draw Straws has spoken and the 2 winners are Natasha and Vanessa N.
Thanks to everyone for dropping in, and double thanks to those who participated in the poll and were eligible for the drawing.

link to results

Welcome to my stop on the Alpha Male Blog Hop! 

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet
2nd Grand Prize: A $130 Amazon or B&N Gift Card
3rd Grand Prize: swag pack pictured below: (US shipping address required for this one, ladies)

And...
I'm giving away one (1) e-copy of my latest release, Wildly Inappropriate, for every 20 people leaving a comment with a valid e-mail address. EX: sixty (60) comments equals three (3) copies to be given away.

In order to be entered to win you must:
1. Vote for your choice in my poll at the top right-hand corner of the blog  
and 
2. leave a comment telling me which way you voted, along with the e-mail address where I can send your book should your name be chosen by the Draw Straws online application. 

Okay, now we need to talk about those sexy alpha males.

In our day-to-day lives, these may be the men we fantasize about pushing in front of a bus, but put them between the covers of a romance novel and they make us shiver, they make us moan, and we keep turning the pages to watch them deliver.

An alpha male won't hesitate to ask for what he wants. Take, for example, the hero in my current release, Daniel De Marco:

"I won't lie. I goddamn wanna touch you." He choked out a short laugh that didn't sound like he was amused. His breath tickled her lips. "Brian started out by sending balloon bouquets with his offer typed on a little card. They made great target practice. After a couple of years doing that, he sent a stripper over to the garage. She gave my brothers lap dances and left the little portable tape player with her music. I guess his offer was recorded after the music ended, but I don't know, because I threw it out, along with her. My middle brother didn't talk to me for a week." His sudden grin was lopsided. "That was an unexpected bonus."

The chill caressing her skin from the air conditioning seemed to disappear when he smiled. He straightened, but reached to pick up a strand of her hair that had fallen across her chest. "Do you braid it? Corn rows, I think it's called. With long stacks of those little wooden beads at the end? Ten or so, I should think." He rubbed the strand between his thumb and forefinger as if testing the texture.

"Plastic beads," she corrected automatically, forgetting she wasn't supposed to speak.

"Wooden beads." His tone became stern. "And not damn neon. White beads." His smile seemed to soften and the look in his eyes appeared almost shy but his words were bold as brass. "I'd like to hear them clicking together while you ride my cock. Plastic won't make the same sound. There must be a salon in town that has 'em. Straight rows, not those insane zig-zaggy ones I see sometimes. Those hurt my eyes."

His words seemed to sink into her skin. The hairstyle he described was unique to her race, she felt. White girls tried to wear it sometimes, but their hair was too soft to hold the braids for long, and the beads fell out.

"Last year Brian sent six skinny bleached blondes in bikinis. They were supposed to wash our trucks, I guess, but ended up washing each other." Some emotion flashed in his eyes. She thought it might've been scorn. "One of 'em wrote Brian's offer in shoe polish on my windshield." His expression became stern. "Getting those six back into that van was like herding wet cats. Two female customers who had their vehicles up on lifts and couldn't leave haven't been back to the shop since. Now, he's sent you. Why am I finding it so hard to throw you out?"

Cynda had no idea how to respond. The stinging hand prints on her butt were warning enough not to think out loud.

"So, I hope like hell Brian picked your outfit and not you. It won't matter, really, because if you want to go through with this, I'll be choosing your clothes." He shoved his fingers through his hair, whirling away to begin pacing back and forth. "What's your name?"

The soft feeling his comment about her hair had induced evaporated with his insult, but she answered his question. "Cynda Avery."

He continued talking, his long legs eating up the distance between the back door and the table where she sat. His pacing made her think he was the one on a chain, but that made no sense. "I'm not going to put my cock in you, Cynda, but if you'll allow me the privilege, I want to make you come. Look at this as an exercise in trust. And to see if we're compatible, before we discuss anything else."

Daniel's such a bad boy. Can Cynda tame this guy? 

Thanks for dropping by. If you'd like to join the blog, or my Facebook page, that's optional, but I'd be honored if you did. Every reader counts around here. :)

Over 200 authors are participating in the Alpha Male hop, so be sure to return to the main blog page for links to other sites. Every comment you leave is another entry to win one of the fabulous grand prizes.