Friday, November 29, 2013


That's right my lovelies. You heard me!

Today, through Monday 12/2, Both Books 1 & 2 of The Spi-Corp Series are on sale for just .99!

So, if you haven't picked up your copy of either yet, now is the perfect time to do so!


Oh and because I love you all so very much, I'm going to give you a very short teaser of my upcoming release - slated for 12/10/2013 - I Saw Momma Shoot Santa Claus, which is the introductory full-length novel into the hot, smexy St. Nick Boys and the world of The Legacy!
I Saw Momma Shoot Santa Claus
Half an hour later, Slade McKinney sat back on her heels, wiping a bloody hand across her sweating brow. Smiling cautiously toward her son, she said, “I think that’s got it. Go and get some blankets from my bed and some pillows. We’ll have to leave him here for now.”
Jesse nodded and shot to his feet, racing off to fulfill her request. 
She turned and stoked up the fire. The adrenaline that had carried her through this ebbed and she noted the shake in her blood covered hands. Had she really shot someone tonight? And Santa at that? Surely not. This was a dream, it had to be. Santa Claus didn’t exist.
She looked over her shoulder at the stranger lying in the splintered wood of her coffee table. But there he was. Sure as she was breathing, there he was. She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, blinked them open again and focused.
Still there. “Dammit!” she cursed yet again. 
“Mom!” Jesse admonished as he came back into the room. He shot a pointed look toward the mythical being passed out on their carpet. “He’ll hear you. Santa doesn’t like that kind of language.” Arms laden with blankets and pillows, he knelt, stage-whispering toward the stranger to apologize. “Sorry Sir, she forgets herself sometimes.”
Incensed, she snorted out a reply. “I do not.”  But it was a useless argument. She did curse, far too often truth be told, but it was another of those old cop habits she just couldn’t seem to break, especially in stress filled situations such as this.
Her son turned his pointed look on her. “Right,” he said all too knowingly. Setting down the pile of material, he reached toward Santa’s belted waist.
She halted his fingers just shy of the buckle. “No, I’ll do that. Go and get cleaned up.”
Jesse’s small head bobbed on his neck. “You ok Mom?”
“Fine,” she lied softly. “Now go on.”
While he was gone, she darted into her bedroom and grabbed a pair of her husbands old sweat pants. Draping them over her shoulder, she returned to her patient. She quickly made a pallet out of the blankets, setting up a temporary bed next to the fire place. He’d be able to stay warm and dry. She noted the pool of water at his feet. She eyed the front door but it hadn’t been opened. There was no fresh snow on the hard wood. She shrugged it off, storing the mystery away for later. Right now, she needed to make him as comfortable as possible. She reached for the black patent leather belt, slipping the ends apart. Easing an arm under his wide shoulders she gently hefted him into a sitting position.
He groaned softly but thankfully didn’t wake.
It wasn’t easy but with a few tries she slipped the white, fir-lined coat off his torso and lobed it onto the couch. Standing, she wrapped both her arms around his upper body and as gently as she could, put all her strength into moving his three-hundred pounds out of the rubble. 
Settling him among the blankets, she pulled off his boots and tossed them over with the coat. Clinically, she started toward his pants, only to notice they didn’t seem to fit anymore.
Was it her imagination or had his belly suddenly flattened out right in front of her eyes? She blinked twice, shaking her head. Nope, nope, it was definitely flat now. Slowly she lifted her gaze. 
Oh my…! She gulped, hard, swallowing air. No way!
But the proof, as they say, is in the pudding. And dammit if she wasn’t now staring at some very yummy looking pudding!
She gulped again, swallowing more air. In a daze her fingers splayed across his flat abs, watching the muscles ripple slightly when he breathed. Santa wasn’t fat and jolly as she’d first thought. No, he was a drop-dead, model-quality, grade-A, 100% gorgeous beefcake!
“Holy shit!”
Staring hard and wondering if she’d truly cracked, she watched in fascination as the last bit of his beard receded into his strong jaw, leaving only a rough shadow of stubble in its wake. His once white hair was now a chocolate brown, a deep rich, dark chocolate that lay against his shoulders. It reminded her of the treats she allowed herself when she was feeling moody and alone. His face was relaxed in his unconsciousness, but there was no mistaking the classic cheekbones and forehead that spoke of ancient, noble blood. She briefly wondered what color his eyes were but supposed she could find that out later.
“Who’s that?”
Jesse’s voice startled her and she let out an involuntary shriek of surprise. “That’s what I’m wondering son,” she said before she could stop the words.

Enjoy my lovelies. This will be out on December 10, 2014!

Until then...

Thanks as always for stopping by.

Margaret Taylor

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