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eBook Category: Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: Sultry summer nights with sexy southern boys--with an added dash of Cajun spice. Three tales of love and passion southern style--slow and fiery hot! "Cajun Heat" by Celeste Anwar: Yveline is after the story that's going to launch her career in journalism--sex slaves in Cajun country, but after watching the rendezvous for days without a break in the story, she decides to go in for a snoop. Unfortunately, the sex god she's been watching through her binoculars is lying in wait. Yveline is a journalist to her toes, though. Without a blink she immediately decides to go with the flow and write her Sex Slave story from an insider's point of view. "Underneath It All" by Alicia Sparks: "Blood Feud" by Kimberly Zant: Jillian Cook has hardly touched down in town when she meets two gorgeous Cajuns with enough charisma to knock any woman for a loop. The problem isn't just that she can't make up her mind which one thrills her more, or that both of them are named Beau. The problem is she's landed right in the middle of a blood feud. And when they set out to prove which is the better man in a championship f*ckathon--well, it's an exhausting job, but somebody's got to do it! Rating: Contains explicit sex, graphic language, and adult content.

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2006, 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2006

135 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [561 KB], eReader (PDB) [176 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [169 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [150 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [152 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [203 KB], hiebook (KML) [389 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [212 KB], iSilo (PDB) [138 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [173 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [209 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [221 KB]
Words: 54777
Reading time: 156-219 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1-58608-859-9

Yveline Tebeau flattened herself against the ground, not because she feared being spotted at the moment, but because every muscle in her body was protesting the awkward position she'd been holding for what seemed like hours. The moment she did, she was certain she could feel crawling things inching under her clothing.

She had not realized just how much she detested the woods until she'd decided to pursue the story that had just seemed to drop into her lap like manna from heaven. She had tried everything else she knew to try to land a job as a real journalist, but one look at her seemed to be all it took to convince people she wasn't serious.

She didn't know what the hell it was about her looks that made them think that, but she was sure when she presented them with the gritty story she was in pursuit of that all that would change.

The cabin she'd been staking out for almost a week was reputedly a rendezvous point for a sex slave ring. That was news, real news, hard and gritty and shocking. It was going to be a serious wakeup call once she broke the story.

If she got the story.

Resisting the urge to check her clothes, again, for ticks or any other crawling thing, she picked up her binoculars again and focused them on the cabin after a brief search for the image in the lens that made her dizzy.

There wasn't a sign of the man she'd seen there the past two days.

No sign of a car for that matter, but she was no idiot. He could have left the car in a hiding spot and hoofed it to the cabin.

She'd been there a while herself though, and she hadn't seen the 'sex god' coming or going--that was the mental tag she'd given him because the guy was be-u-ti-ful to behold, all kinds of nice, rock hard muscle and swarthy skin, black, black hair. He was sooo dangerous looking he made her kegels flutter every time she caught a glimpse of his black brows and narrowed, predatory eyes. Made her think of a pirate or something.

Hours had passed since she'd crawled to her vantage point for a look. One anyway, and there'd been no movement at all in the cabin.

He wouldn't be asleep at this time of the morning.

A thrill of both excitement and fear surged through her the moment her mind suggested that this might be the opportunity she'd been hoping for.

Actually, she'd hoped the gang would show up with a group of captives so she could get pictures. But that hadn't happened and she was getting tired of playing guerilla, crawling along the ground on her hands and knees, or her belly, peering through binoculars, ducking for cover whenever she heard any sound at all that she couldn't identify.

Which had been pretty much everything when she'd first arrived, because she wasn't used to being in the woods and nothing was familiar.

Sighing, certain she did feel something wiggling up her belly, Yveline dropped the binoculars and pushed herself up to her hands and knees and then sat back on her heels to examine the crawling sensation.

It was a millipede. She had to resist the urge to scream the moment she saw the thing. Flicking at it with her fingers, she shuddered all over when she'd managed to dislodge it.

That cinched it. She wasn't going to lie in the woods while wildlife fed off her if she didn't have to. There was a good chance she would find something in that cabin to substantiate the rumor she'd heard. Now was the time to check, while nobody was around.

She was too uneasy to just march right up to the front door, she discovered. She'd darted behind three different saplings before it dawned on her that she probably wasn't hidden if anyone was watching. She was no stick. She preferred to think of herself as pleasantly plump, or voluptuous, but she knew in this day and time when beauty was measured in ounces, most people just thought she was fat--or volumptuous.

She had a trim waist, she thought defensively, but wide hips and big boobs translated to fat when the clothes never touched her waist.

Pushing her insecurity to the back of her mind, even though it was her volume that had prompted the thoughts to begin with because she wasn't actually built for speed, she looked around for a little bit broader tree trunk before she made the next daring dash.

She was a nervous wreck by the time she'd reached the cabin, mostly from scaring herself. There hadn't been any sign that anyone was about, not a sound out of place except her thrashing progress through the dead leaves and brush that littered the forest floor.

Pausing to catch her breath and try to get her heart under control before she passed out from excitement, she glanced around one last time and darted toward the porch.

The door wasn't locked.

Trying to convince herself that that wasn't because there was nothing inside to find, but rather because the cabin was so deep in the woods, and so well hidden, that they hadn't thought it necessary to lock it, she depressed the latch and pushed the door slowly open, peering through the widening crack.

There was only one room, thankfully.

When she neither heard nor saw anything, she pushed the door wider and darted inside.

The door slammed behind her. Two hands grabbed her in a hard grip and shoved her back against the wall. A hard body plastered itself on top of her, sandwiching her between board and board hard abs.

Yveline didn't know if there was any pain involved in the move or not. The shock of suddenly being seized when she'd thought she was completely alone threw her instantly into a state of catatonia. Discovering that she was gaping at a face full of pecs, she tipped her head back slowly to look up at the monster that had grabbed her.

It was the dark, dangerous looking sex god she had been drooling over through her binoculars for days. She felt her jaw sag to half mast.

"What are you doin' here? Who sent you?"

His voice was sexy, too. The husky drawl with just a trace of Cajun accent cut right through her like a hot knife through butter. Caught between sheer terror and total enchantment to discover he looked even better close up, Yveline's mind didn't catch one word out of five.

Gritting his teeth when her only response was to gape at him mindlessly, he grabbed the neck of her blouse, giving it a jerk that popped every button off. That caught her attention, dragging her gaze from the sex god.

She stared down in dismay at the utilitarian 'harness' she had to wear to keep her boobs from beating her to death. No skimpy, sexy, lacy confections to support these monsters! It took the bra equivalent of a forklift. Her skin looked like paper next to the dark hands that stroked along her belly, and then her back, and finally grabbed her bra straps, jerking them down her arms so that her breasts spilled out.

He stared down at her bobbing, jiggling breasts for several moments as if he'd completely forgotten where he was. "No wire," he said a little hoarsely.

Yveline licked her dry lips, trying to force her mind to function. It finally dawned on her that he'd thought she was a cop, but that only made her more uneasy.

If he'd slam a cop against the wall and strip her, he wasn't going to be intimidated about her being a reporter--sort of.

In fact, that might make him more hostile.

Because it had finally penetrated her stupor that his expression was grim and she was pretty sure that was bad news.

"I was ... uh ... was ... supposed to meet a guy here," she stammered out finally, hoping she could convince him it was just a mistake that she'd stumbled into the cabin. "At least ... you know ... I think I might have the wrong cabin."

His dark, demonically arched brows snapped together over the bridge of the 'noble' nose she'd been rhapsodizing about. His lovely mouth, which she'd coveted in her dreams, tightened.

She could see he was reassessing the situation and he wasn't happy about what was going through his mind.

"Take your clothes off," he growled after a prolonged moment in which Yveline had time to consider whether it had actually been a good idea to approach the cabin after all. He snatched her shoulder bag off and stepped away from her.

Yveline swallowed audibly, blinked. "What?"

He gave her a look through narrowed eyes that promised lethal retribution if she questioned his authority again. "Take dem off before I take dem off for you."

Enlightenment blindsided her.

He thought she was a slave, one of the many women duped by some ruse or other into putting themselves into the hands of the sex slave traders. The lie she'd thought up to cover herself had fit perfectly with the typical scenario.

She would've felt brilliant except for the small matter that she'd actually intended to make an excuse for her appearance. She hadn't been trying to convince him she was supposed to be there.

Headlines flashed in her mind's eye--Lousiana woman found dead in the bayous.

She blinked and a fresh headline flashed into her mind, this time with her byline. An insider's look at the sex slave trade.

Adrenaline shot through her that was two parts sheer terror, one part excitement, and one part--arousal--because she was insane! And she'd been lying in the woods for days fantasizing about the gorgeous hunk that was currently threatening her life.

She could see he meant business.

A shiver of anticipation went through her in spite of every attempt to will sanity back into her brain.

She decided not to complain about the fact that he was rifling through her personal belongings.

Grasping the snap on her pants, she unfastened them. When she'd nudged her sneakers off of her feet, she hooked her thumbs in her pants and pulled them down to her knees.

"The panties and bra, too."

She stared at him, wishing she'd trimmed her hedge into one of those cute, sexy little heart shapes or something like that.

And worn a thong instead of the granny panties and granny bra she was wearing.

God!

In the presence of a sex god and she wasn't even wearing sexy lingerie! Damn it to hell!

Reflecting that she at least probably looked the part of an 'innocent'--they always grabbed the inexperienced women because they were perfect victims--she reached behind her back and unfastened the bra and then slipped her panties down her legs and stepped out of the panties and the jeans she'd been wearing.

Tossing her bag across the cabin, he snatched her clothes out of her hands and examined them, checking the pockets.

He pulled a leaf and a beatle out of one and Yveline flinched, wondering if he'd figure out from that, and the dirt ground into the jeans from the knees up, that she'd been crawling around on the ground. She hoped not because she didn't care for that first headline. The second one, the one she was going to write after she'd experienced being a sex slave first hand, was much more to her taste.