Western Erotic Romance ~ Quincy’s Woman by Gem Sivad

Welcome to Gem Sivad. Since she was last with us at HEA, her books have become barn burners, receiving top review ratings and winning awards. Read the excerpt she shares with us below, and you’ll know why.

By the way! This Wednesday, April 27th, is the release date for Quincy’s Woman.
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Thanks for having me on your blog, today! I’m very excited about my new Ellora’s Cave release, Quincy’s Woman, the latest title in my Eclipse Heat series. It’s a about the first year of marriage between Texas rancher, Ambrose Quince and Boston debutante, Lucille McKenna, a bride of eighteen who knows nothing about ranching, cooking, or bedsports.

When I wrote Intimate Strangers, I had no idea I was beginning an erotic western series. Five titles later, Eclipse, Texas is still calling to me. Quincy’s Woman is chronologically, Book One because I travelled back in time to 1866 to explore the year the unlikely couple met and married.

For those who are already familiar with my 19th century town, Eclipse, Texas, and the many characters you’ve met there, I hope you’ll read the beginning story, Quincy’s Woman and watch for the expanded versions of those you’ve already enjoyed.

As of May 26th, three titles, Intimate Strangers, Wolf’s Tender and Breed True will become unavailable in both print and ebook format as I add new scenes, brighten them up with new covers, and prepare them for re-release. For readers who haven’t sampled any of the series yet—here’s the blurb and excerpt for Quincy’s Woman:
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Blurb:

Quincy’s Woman
Gem Sivad

Fresh from the post-Civil War salons and drawing rooms of Boston, Lucy McKenna considers herself a sophisticated young woman. But when she meets Texas rancher, Ambrose Quince, she turns into a flustered girl. He’s too old, war roughened and unrefined—and she has no idea how to deal with the sensual hunger he arouses within her.

Ambrose falls fast and hard for the innocent debutante visiting Eclipse, Texas. Persuading Lucy to accept his pursuit becomes a duel of wits and passion as he awakens her desire.

Lucy leaves Boston and childhood behind when she becomes Mrs. Ambrose Quince. Her lonely days on the Double-Q ranch are filled with work and frustration. But the nights are spent in her husband’s arms learning carnal awareness one molten caress at a time.
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Excerpt:

An Excerpt From: QUINCY’S WOMAN
ISBN: 9781419933424
Copyright © GEM SIVAD, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

One day, as father looked through his spyglass at the herd of mustangs, I stood apart, watching the wild horses from the crest of the bluff above where they grazed. From a distance, they seemed a motley group. Nothing distinguished them but the red stallion leading the herd. He arched his neck and trumpeted a challenge as though he knew we watched. Then he snorted and circled his mares, urging them into a gallop as they fled.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Mr. Quince stood behind me, close enough so that I could feel the heat of his body.

I moved away, putting space between us and he said, “Hot out here for a woman with such delicate skin. I imagine you’d like to shuck some of those fancy clothes right now.” He made statements like that often, not seeming to understand the inappropriateness of his personal observations.

As for my fancy clothes, I’d worn my Boston riding livery, certainly not as elegant as my hunt dress. Mr. Quince’s remarks irritated me almost as much as the hot sun beating down on the heavy dark material. I was perspiring beneath it and miserably aware of the damp material clinging to my body. I ached to return to the shade of the hotel.

But I refused to admit my state of discomfort to the rancher. “I’m perfectly fine, Mr. Quince, but thank you for your concern.”

He shrugged and walked to where Papa stood, still following the progress of the horses. “There’s a cave hidden in the rock formation behind us. Would it be all right if I show it to Lucy? It’s a lot cooler inside than out here.” He asked permission from Papa without even suggesting it to me. I would have declined immediately had I been given the choice.

Papa waved vaguely in my direction and said, “Go along, Daughter. I suspect you’re bored and I expect Ambrose is right. The shade will be a pleasant respite for you.”

Mr. Quince looked smug and took my arm before I could make excuses. The cave was dark until Ambrose lit a torch by the entrance. I immediately experienced the drop in temperature, shivering in delight at the balm of cool air. Once inside, we stood in a pool of flickering light. I gazed around the massive cavern, pretending interest in the rocks rather than look at him.

He stepped closer and turned me to face him. Later when I recalled the event, I experienced the same trembling ache his next actions wrought. Ambrose Quince kissed me. Without my consent, he brushed his lips across mine. When I didn’t respond, not really knowing how, he draped my arms around his neck and pulled me closer.

A different kind of heat seized me. My internal temperature soared as my body brushed against his. My womb tightened, clenching as a shudder rippled across my flesh and I looked up breathlessly.

Mr. Quince’s stature being much greater than my own, he seemed to engulf me in the embrace as he molded my body against his. I later assured myself that had he not kept claim to my mouth and held me secured against his frame, I would have fled his intimate conduct.

But he held me fast, and I didn’t struggle for release when he continued the kiss. He savored my lips and murmured sounds that vibrated across my nerve endings. At first, I felt the barest stroke of his tongue—a not unpleasant sensation of wet heat touching my bottom lip. Nudging against the seam of my closed mouth, he muttered, “Open for me.”

Heat pulsed through me and I leaned into his kiss, obeying his order. It was as if I had no will of my own and must comply. He slid his tongue with shocking smoothness through the narrow space I allowed. My whimpered distress didn’t deter his intent. He tasted me, stroking my tongue with his in the most startling fashion.

“Kiss me back, Lucy,” he said against my lips.

It frightened me how easily he invaded my person, mastering my will. I melted against him, enjoying the feel of his tongue tangling with mine. It was intoxicating, making me heady and weak. Clutching the back of his shirt in my hand, I clung to him, needing to anchor myself lest I swoon.

When he tipped my head even farther back and arched my body over his arm, my breasts pressed against my dress, creating friction. I had the terrible urge to move against his chest and purr like a tabby cat, stretching and rubbing on him.

At last releasing my mouth, he stepped away from me and I almost fell. I had been so enthralled by his attentions my limbs seemed turned to liquid.

He drew me back in his arms but refrained from a second kiss. “You taste so sweet,” he growled in a voice even deeper than usual.

“You take liberties you shouldn’t,” I whispered, stepping away and putting distance between us. My breath was constricted and I almost panted the words.
Ambrose closed the distance I’d gained and covered my mouth with his again. This time, the kiss was a feathery stroke that ended up a nibble as he pressed his lips along my chin and up to my ear.

He nuzzled the sensitive lobe and murmured, “Shouldn’t I?” Brushing his mouth across mine again, he sought to make me recant my words. He delivered soft caresses to my face and neck, all the time emitting a low rumbling sound.

I swayed on my feet, completely undone and speechless until he growled, “Your skin is as soft as a kitten’s belly.”

The image of Ambrose Quince caressing my stomach popped into my head and finally I wrenched free, backing toward the cave entrance as though the devil stood before me. His image, outlined by the flickering torch, strengthened the comparison and I whispered desperately, “I do not favor your attentions, Mr. Quince. Please desist from further pursuit.”

When we left the cavern, my lips were numb, swollen from his kisses and my own excessive response. I prayed Father wouldn’t notice. I need not have worried. Papa was so elated by the stallion he’d marked for his possession he spoke only to Ambrose.
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AVAILABLE on April 27th at Ellora’s Cave.
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Gem’s Place

Gem Sivad at Ellora’s Cave

Gem Sivad on Twitter

Along with yours truly, Gem is a contributing author at the ROMANCE WRITER’S BEHAVING BADLY blog.

New Release ~ FIVE CARD STUD by Gem Sivad ~ Western Erotic Romance

Blurb:

When bounty hunter Sam McCallister sees Eden Pace playing poker for the first time, he loses all interest in the cards; instead, the thought of playing stud with the lady gambler stirs his cock to life. Eden’s the prettiest woman and the best card sharp Sam’s ever met. Good thing he has a few cards up his sleeve.

Eden’s doing her own outlaw hunting. She’s on the trail of her husband’s killer and Sam’s in her way. To get free of this hardheaded, softhearted, gorgeous man, Eden tries strip poker and naked truth-or-dare, but when Sam ups the stakes, carnal submission and desire are unleashed.

When Sam discovers Eden’s wanted for murder, he figures his bed is the safest place for her. But taking Eden prisoner isn’t as easy as Sam expects. He’s in a high-stakes poker game with lust on the table and his heart on the line, because one taste of Eden just isn’t enough.
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Excerpt:

Sam watched Eden kneel beside the shimmering bubbles as she tested the water—expecting, he was sure, to find it frigid. Instead, he knew heat pulsed under her touch, water as warm as the bath she’d taken in Wichita Falls.

“Are we in for the night?” she asked without taking her eyes off the pool.

“Yep.” His one-word answer seemed to be enough this time.

“What do you plan to do with me?” Eden asked over her shoulder as she disrobed.

Sam could see that she didn’t intend to play shy around him. That was good, because if she was waiting for him to look away, she’d be an old woman when she gave up.

“Plenty.” He worked the one word through lips almost as stiff as his cock. She was a sight to see and she knew it, standing there flaunting her wares at him.

“All right,” she huffed. Her words were filled with irritation as she stepped out of dress and chemise in one fluid motion. “Is that what this is about?” She sounded genuinely surprised when she asked, “You’re not interested in the bounty?”

Eden turned to face him as she gathered her long mane of hair, re-pinning it on top of her head. She stood naked on the rim of the rock pool, surrounded by torchlight.

Jesus, the woman's trying to kill me. Savoring the creamy skin covering her slender curves, he followed the lift of her arm and watched her rounded breast tilt upward. Licking lips suddenly gone dry, Sam let his eyes center on the patch of dark curls at the V of her thighs. He admitted gruffly, “You were on the top of my wanted list as soon as I set eyes on you. Handbill or not, I’d have claimed you.”

Eden walked around the hot spring and followed the ancient steps down into the pool. Her soft moan of pleasure echoed in the cave. “Ohhh, this is wonderful.”

His voice sounded pretty rough to his own ears when he called over to her, “You plannin’ on fuckin’ me senseless again so you can escape?”

Her laughter bounced off the walls, followed by her answer. “Yes.”

If there was one thing Sam enjoyed more than the chase, it was the challenge of keeping the prey once caught. “Give me a minute to get us settled for the night, pretty lady. Then you can commence your getaway attempt.”
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FIVE CARD STUD ~ Trailer

Released on December 1, 2010 ~ Buy Link

Visit Gem’s Place

Gem Sivad
2010 EPIC AWARD WINNER
BEST WESTERN ROMANCE & BEST EROTIC WESTERN 2009

Western Erotic Romance ~ A STAGED AFFAIR by Gem Sivad

Romance lovers, this is Gem Sivad’s first book with publisher, Siren-BookStrand. Her other western erotic romance titles are with Liquid Silver Books.

In the mood for one hot-as-fire, give-me-more read, then this is book for you.

A STAGED AFFAIR

by Gem Sivad

Blurb ~

Anna Fuller is a Shakespearean actress touring Texas when rancher, King Colton spots the red-haired vixen playing Lady Macbeth. One look and King’s in love.

King isn’t much for romance and doesn’t know what it will take to make Anna content, but if it takes money, he’s willing to spend a fortune trying.

Anna only wants King’s love, but he’s so busy fighting land-grabbers and taking care of ranch business, he doesn’t see what his lover offers. When Anna leaves him, King moves heaven, hell, and half of Texas too, trying to reclaim Anna before he loses her for good. Sex is the weapon of choice when these two face off in a sheet-scorching showdown.
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SEXCERPT ~

She’d been without King too long. She missed him terribly at first. But then there were other things, important business, to distract her from the want. By the end of her lonely seclusion, she almost convinced herself the madness of desire she remembered had never been that strong.

Now here he was, proving her self-delusion wrong. Once again, her body was liquid heat reaching for satisfaction only he could provide. He was crazy hot for her, too, but at the same time determined to take charge of her life.

I will never let that happen again.

“You have no right.” She got that far with her declaration when he lifted his head and glared at her. She admired the rough planes of his face and adored his gruff assertion at the same time she bristled against his claim.

“The hell you say. I have every right. You’re mine.”

He was furious. She knew he would be. She told Tommy she would just sneak back into town and leave again the back way so King would never know she’d come and gone.

Of course, she planned every possible scenario that might happen if and when they did meet. She had a lot of friends in town, but he had a lot of money, power, and when he needed it, charm. He was still spouting his I am God nonsense, and she listened with half interest.

“Where have you been? Don’t feed me a line of bullshit. I already know where you haven’t been—here, with me, where you’re supposed to be.”

He was merciless in his torture, bringing her to the quivering pinnacle of orgasm before he paused to ask each question. Anna’s belly, womb, pussy, ass, and lungs coiled tighter each time he promised, teased, withdrew, until her body threatened to burst into flames.

Then he pushed her thighs wide open and buried his face again in her folds. She needed it.She needed him now. Every nerve ending in her body screamed. She panted an explanation. “The show closed, we followed the drum and went to Fort Laramie. I was there.”

“Lie number two.” He looked up and intoned righteously as though he was God Almighty. “I sent the same man to Laramie when the trail pointed that way.”

He stopped to nip her thigh. His tongue teased a trail of sensation across the sensitive crease of her leg, almost close enough to touch her pearl.

“It was a slow season…” She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice. “We lost the props, the show wagon broke an axle, we were stranded…”

“Lies, lies, lies.”

As usual he was so busy pointing out her sins she outwitted him. She swiveled her hips and swiped her clit against his moving lips, and it was enough. Prickles of ecstasy fired her body.

“Yesss,” she screamed triumphantly and started an orgasm that rolled from the tips of her well manicured toes to her lustrous red hair. Even her earlobes seemed to pulse and vibrate.

“This isn’t over,” King Colton promised, raising to his knees to slam his cock so deep in her clenching pussy he fulfilled her request. She could taste him, and he was the most exotically delicious dish she would ever have. She reminded herself of that as she savored deep, partaking of her last meal.

She adored him and she’d never get over him, and that was the right way to feel about the love of her life. Just like Desdemona, Cleopatra, and Juliet, she was destined to have a tragic love, but she’d be damned if she’d end up an old woman living out of a stage suitcase.

So, this was it. He pulled her head against his shoulder to stifle her ecstatic shriek even as his chest rumbled with the laughter she loved to call out of him. “Christ, girl, they’ll think I’m killing you.”

Purchase at ~ http://sirenpublishing.com/gemsivad ~
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Gem’s western-sensual fabulous cover art is from cover artist is Amanda Kelsey ~ http://razzdazzdesign.com ~

Gem Sivad has received outstanding reviews for INTIMATE STRANGERS and WOLF’S TENDER. She’s fast becoming a leading author in Western Erotic Romance for good reasons. Her stories are gritty, realistic about those historical times. However, that feeling of sweep-you-away romance prevails.
Gem also realistically portrays the relationship between a man and a woman. Yet, love always wins out, the hearts of her hero and heroine exposed to each other, in that Happily Ever After we all want and crave.
Oh, and talk about scorching passion... yeehaw! Saddle up for the long hot ride.

You can find Gem Sivad at ~ http://gemsivad.wordpress.com/blog ~

Western Erotic Romance ~ BREED TRUE by Gem Sivad

Romance lovers, isn’t that some of the most gorgeous cover art you’ve seen, recently? At least, to my eye it is. The cover artist is Amanda Kelsey ~ http://razzdazzdesign.com ~

Yet, I digress because I absolutely love cover art.
Far more important, though, Gem Sivad’s latest book, BREED TRUE, will be released from Liquid Silver Books on Monday, February 1st. And, am I ever excited.

Gem has received outstanding reviews for INTIMATE STRANGERS and WOLF’S TENDER. She’s fast becoming a leading author in Western Erotic Romance for good reasons. Her stories are gritty, realistic about those historical times. However, that feeling of sweep-you-away romance prevails.
Gem also realistically portrays the relationship between a man and a woman. Yet, love always wins out, the hearts of her hero and heroine exposed to each other, in that Happily Ever After we all want and crave.
Oh, and talk about scorching passion... yeehaw! Saddle up for the long hot ride.

Blurb:

Half-Apache rancher Grady Hawke owns close to 10,000 acres of water-enriched, Texas grassland.

But as soon as his white father is no longer in control, an Eastern Land Company moves to steal the family ranch, claiming Grady is too Indian to rightfully own Hawks Nest.

Grady decides to apply what he’s learned in mixing different strains of cattle. He needs to find a red-haired woman and breed back to the fair skin and Scottish features of his father. With a white child and wife, he plans to appease his neighbors and out-maneuver the greedy Eastern Consortium of business men who are trying to steal Texas land.

But when Grady meets auburn-haired widow, Julie Fulton, breeding cattle is the last thing on his mind.
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Excerpt:

“Let me get this straight,” Jewel Rossiter swept the room with a quick look of disgust. “Mr. Hawks, you want to parade me around the territory as your white wife, to prove how civilized you are.”And, Mr. Quince you want me to give my children to your wife, a move that would also eliminate any inconvenience that might disrupt the show Mr. Hawks plans to put on.”

Then she looked at Sheriff Hiram Potter, who was clearly uncomfortable with the way the evening had gone. But she spoke to both him and Judge Conklin, “And you two, they brought in to make everything legal and tight.”

After all the bullshit that had been spattered around in the talking, she’d filtered out what affected her. He gave her the courtesy of a tight smile. She considered him for a minute while the rest of the room studied her. She appeared calmer than she had been all night…and resolved.

“No one gets my daughters, understand that. My children stay with me.” Then she focused on him and he was reminded that she wasn’t a tame dog to be frightened into submission.

“Are you talking a real wife?” At his raised brow of incredulity that she might consider otherwise, she paused a moment and then amended her question. “Where would this magnificent coupling take place?

Grady Hawks almost laughed out loud at her assessment but did her the courtesy of a straight answer. “Hawks Nest Ranch abuts the Double-Q ranch east of town. It stretches above the foot hills behind Eclipse.”

“Is it isolated? Can people come and go?” Evidently, the gambler’s woman needed a place to lay low with her daughters for awhile. He declined to mention the duration of her visit.

It seemed to him that the location of the land might be the only temptation to her agreeing. She needed a haven. Maybe Hawks Nest would be that place.

Her knuckles showed white as she backed against a heavy piece of furniture and clutched the edge of the desk. So, she’s not as tough as she wants us to believe.

As Grady watched, her translucent skin blanched even whiter, displaying clearly the degree of her exhaustion, as her knees began to buckle.

He was on her in a second, his arm sweeping familiarly around her shoulders for support. “Only folks coming onto my land are those I allow entrance.”

“I’ve had a husband and I don’t want another,” she told him desperately but already her gaze assessed him.

She was interrupted by Hamilton Quince who edged close enough to follow the conversation, “Want plays a poor second to need, and right now, Mrs. Rossiter, it would appear that you need the protection of a man.”

Grady remained expressionless and silent letting Quince make his case. But the gambler’s woman didn’t spare a glance for Hamilton, intent on answers to her questions.

She skimmed the room with a suspicious gaze at the same time she spoke softly to him pitching her voice so that even Quince couldn’t hear.

“Pretty convenient me just being made widow,” her tone was intimate and although quiet, spoke volumes about her willingness to forget the matter if he did admit killing Frank Rossiter.

But he had strong doubt that she’d agree to marry her husband’s murderer.

“Did you or your hireling, kill Frank Rossiter?” she locked eyes with Grady as though she could read his soul.

She was a slender woman who reached his shoulder, bruised from another man’s fists, but she questioned him with authority, asserting her right to know.

“No,” he told her, “I can’t claim that pleasure.” From the sound of the mob, someone had been busy spreading the rumor that one or the other of them had killed Frank Rossiter.

“As you have heard, I have twin baby girls.” Her bravado wavered at the sound of the mob’s approach and she waited tensely for his response.

“The wife of Grady Hawks will be protected, as will her family, because they will belong to me.” No sense in lying to her. She’s as safe as she wants to be. I sure as hell don’t plan to hurt her or a couple of kids.

He shrugged and waited, admiring the way she hid her thoughts from those in the room.

“All right,” she agreed, accepting his proposal. It was no decision at all when faced with the sound of her other choices coming up the street.

As they turned expectantly toward the judge, she asked. “How long will we need to play act?”

The others in the room strained to hear the negotiations quietly taking place, but her words were too softly spoken. He liked her voice and that she appeared to own some sense and had no need to rely on the others in the room to make her decisions.

“This is no play act. I intend a legal wedding witnessed by the leader’s of Eclipse society. We will remain married and you will give me a son,” Grady felt her flinch and shudder.

She stepped back and away, shaking her head. “Don’t be foolish. Playacting at being your wife is one thing,” she told him, “but I won’t give you a child like I’m promising you the first pup from the litter. I’ll not leave a baby—boy or girl child to be raised by you.”

She was fierce with that disclaimer. He didn’t factor in her experience with Frank Rossiter before his own temper flared. “You have a problem with my Indian blood?”

Anger simmered as he prepared to say, to hell with the whole proposition and take his chances with the crowd gathering outside.

But, he explained himself, for her ears only. “I need to deed my spread to a son. My bloodlines range a little too close to my Kiowa mother for present company’s ease.”

Her expression was unreadable, but her hands still clutched the edge of the table. She asked, “Why would that fix anything?”

“We’ll breed back to the red hair and white skin of my father. If I’m fortunate, my son will inherit those features.” He frowned, irritated to admit his plan to deliberately dilute his Indian blood.

His voice dropped into a threatening growl. “After you give me a son, pale-skin or Kiowa, do what you will, but, the boy remains with me.”

The crowd outside was louder and Grady thought it was time for plain speaking.

“Ma’am, you need a husband and I need a wife. What say you?”

The heavy tread of footsteps and flickering light of a torch had more of her attention than he did.

She walked to the window and peered outside, ignoring the room’s occupants. Grady had time to admire the proud line of her back and shoulders as she telegraphed her right to be left alone.

He mentally shrugged and admitted defeat. The gambler’s widow had made her decision. He pulled on the brim of his hat and nodded at the others.

And then, because in a curious way, he still needed to close out his memory of her at the Eclipse social, he joined her at the window, shielding her from the room’s view.

She didn’t flinch or respond, but their gaze crossed in the window’s reflection. A shout outside, and a lifted torch, showed the crowd.

But, her gaze was tilted upward, fixed on a second story window in the Golden Eagle saloon. A man outlined there, stood smoking a cigar and watching the mob.

Her gaze refocused on Grady and green fire met cold slate. “All right,” she nodded her acceptance surprising him.

It was a good enough answer for him. Negotiations were over and he’d courted and claimed himself a bride.

She turned to him, almost in his arms and lowered her voice shielding the rest of the discussion from the other listeners in the room.

He drew deep of her scent, the smell of Comfort Quince’s soap and bottled pretties drifting up, as he leaned closer to hear her husky voice.

Her own rich musk wafted sweetly and tickled his senses, unexpectedly stirring an arousal. His eye lids drifted to half slits and a growl of hunger clawed at his throat.

Siren, they call her. Jesus. He was the first to step away.
~~~~~~

From Gem Sivad’s site ~

Breed True , an Eclipse Hearts Novel, will be available at Liquid Silver Books on February 1, 2010. The story takes place in 1880 Texas during a period of land redistribution and Indian unrest.

Rancher Grady Hawks stands to lose his land and way of life, if he can’t convince his neighbors that his half-Kiowa heritage doesn’t threaten them.

When recently widowed Julie Rossiter needs rescued, he offers her a devil’s bargain–protection and a few acres of land with water, in exchange for a year of marriage and the chance to produce a white son and heir.

Julie Rossiter doesn’t want a husband but she needs one. To protect her children and gain security for their future, she accepts Grady Hawks’ proposal.

What Julie doesn’t expect is her new husband’s determined seduction. When she makes it clear that love has no part in their bargain, Grady sets out to change her mind.
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There’s also a fabulous book trailer at Gem’s wordpress blog.

PLUS! Gem is blogging at the Liquid Silver SEx blog today.

Why Read a Western? By Gem Sivad

My friend and fellow author, Savanna Kougar invited me to do this guest blog today, and I hesitated. I couldn’t think of anything to tell you that I was sure you would be interested in hearing. And then, I had to assemble a promo for my latest western romance that premieres today from Liquid Silver Books (*g*) and I found a lot of reasons why I enjoy writing historical westerns that I thought I’d share. The biggest reason is one that might surprise you. I love the information I’ve found about the nineteenth century American West.

For instance, did you know that honey is a simple medicine that really is good for more than sweetening tea? Honey is an antimicrobial agent. No, *grin*, I didn’t know what that meant either, so I looked it up. It means that most bacteria and other microorganisms cannot grow or reproduce in honey. For a lot of reasons, the elements in honey prevent the growth of bacteria.

So, when your mother or grandmother insisted on a cup of tea with honey in it, they were reflecting ancestral knowledge handed down, (often without explanation) from one mother to the next. Honey has been found effective in treating everything from a sore throat to athlete’s foot.

It was while doing research for Hellcat, Deacon McCallister’s story in the third Bounty Hunters book that I stumbled upon the use of honey as an ointment. Lol, Deacon finds himself staked-out over an anthill after having his back flayed with a knife. Strips of skin had been removed during two days of torture.

He’s ready to kill the woman who slathers honey on his back and keeps it on there even when the ants come marching too. Come to find out, honey is also a topical ointment, that seals out bacteria, promotes healing, and in my story, saves Deacon’s life (with the help of female bounty hunter Miracle Beaumont).

I don’t like to read any book that leaves me knowing no more after, than I did before I picked it up. I’m serious. Whether it’s a new word, a new style, an incredible sexual position *smile*, or an historical fact, I like books that entertain and educate me too.

That’s why I write western romance. I don’t know a lot, but with the vast array of researched information that the internet makes available, nineteenth century America is a visit to yesterday without the inconveniences that were actually there.

If you haven’t tried a western romance, there are so many great authors now who are beginning to discover the Old West. Try one. Sample the adventure and romance in a land and time where women and men needed each other to survive.
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I append this blog with a final note:
Intimate Strangers, my western romance novel that begins the Eclipse, Texas seven book series, is a finalist in the 2010 EPPIE AWARDS, nominated in the Best Western Romance of 2009 category.
~~~

*** GEM ~ Wahoooo! Congrats on being a finalist! Big Sky Smiles, Savanna ***
~~~

Wolf’s Tender ~ Western Erotic Romance

Presenting the second release by Gem Sivad from Liquid Silver Books.

Wolf’s Tender

Blurb:

Book One: in the Bounty Hunters series

Rough and tough Charlie Wolf McCallister knows he needs to get laid, when even a spinster school teacher with a sharp tongue, starts looking good to him. But, cad that he is, he operates on the philosophy that a bird in hand is better than no bird at all. And so he offers to trade service for—servicing.

When Naomi Parker's students are snatched from their school by marauding Comancheros, she can't believe that she hid like a coward and let it happen. The only way to ease her conscience, and get the girls home safely, is to hire half-Kiowa bounty hunter, Charlie Wolf McCallister. His price seems a bit steep, to prim and proper Naomi who must choose between her virtue and her students’ lives.

When one straight-laced spinster, tenders her body, to one cynical sometimes savage, the unexpected bounty, is love.
~~~

EXCERPT FOR WOLF’S TENDER:

“You’ve been following me all over town.” The woman didn’t even deny it, leaning toward him instead, patiently waiting as he took her measure—thin face with brown hair skinned into a tight knot, straight teeth, and nose spattered with freckles across burned skin. Deep exotic cornflower-blue eyes met his.

Charlie’s gaze came back to the eyes for a second look.

“My name is Naomi Parker.” If it weren’t for the unusual shade of her eyes, Miss Naomi Parker would be written off as old-maid material. She was a tall, skinny female, past the first flush of maidenhood, with prim and proper written all over her.

Not being a prize himself, nor considered civilized, he rarely came in contact with females of social standing, but he recognized one now. He intended to run this one off as quick as possible and get on with his bath. Knowing what he did of her kind, he didn’t think it would take much.

She held out her hand and for a moment he wasn’t sure what she wanted. Then he realized she intended it as a greeting. He grabbed the extended limb and pulled hard, rolling her down his arm, and into his embrace before she realized she’d been captured.

He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her like bands of steel, pulling her so close her chin brushed his bare chest. The contact sent a frisson of heat coursing through him which made no sense since her body was encased in iron, or at least something that felt like it.

“What the hell kind of contraption do you have on, Miss Parker?” His hands automatically fell to her hips, holding her against the swell of his erection, stealing a moment’s pleasure.

Accept for the slight mound of her breasts, she had the body of a fifteen year old boy—thin for his age—but a tall stripling. He noted all of this unconsciously, surprised that his cock had roused with fierce interest. Jesus, I need a woman.

His shirt and handkerchief were smashed between them. She tilted her head to glare at him as she struggled against his hold. Her hips moved in his hands and in her struggle, she accidentally rubbed against his arousal. She froze.

“Stupid to offer your hand to someone you don’t know,” he admonished her even as he blatantly rubbed his swollen flesh against her hip.

Her breasts that were, as near as he could tell, about the size of robin’s eggs, were nevertheless heaving, and she was pissed not scared, as he stared into eyes that had darkened. He wondered what color they would be when she came, and then flinched at the thought.

Jesus, all pussy’s the same in the dark. What the hell difference if she’s a dried up old prune. His cock demanded, Fuck her.

Old maid material or not, his cock was erect and urging him to make friends.

“You’re lucky you survived the raid. Think about that, instead of wallowing in guilt, and let the law take care of your friends.”

He had a cigar and the rest of a bottle of good whiskey waiting for him and minutes before he’d thought that was enough.

He’d meant to scare her away so he could climb into that tub of hot water while it still had some steam coming from it. Instead he had a woman wrapped in his arms and his body seemed determined to keep her. His cock said this woman could service him just fine—and she could do it now.

It was pleasing the way she fit up against him, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. His first assessment that she was skinny, gave way to new knowledge. She was a slender armful, her softness hidden under the iron casing she’d wrapped around her flesh. The thought of her long white legs sliding around his hips while he sank into her, filled his mind.

He let his thoughts play over the impossible possibilities for a second, before he let her go, allowing inches between them and dropping his hand that had been stroking her back.

“I’m planning on being in that tub of water in two minutes, naked as the day I was born, whether you get out of here or not.”

He released her abruptly, expecting her to hurry from the barn. Instead, she continued the connection between them, pressing her body against his, her unwavering blue eyes staring up at him. Her lips trembled for a moment, and then she repeated her request.

“I need your help.”
~~~~~~

For more information about Gem Sivad, visit me at ~ http://gemsivad.com/ ~
You can also hang out with Gem Sivad and her stable of sexy ranch hands at her webbie place ~ http://gemsivad.wordpress.com/ ~

How to Make Unpalatable Historical Facts Into Romance...

How to Make Unpalatable Historical Facts Into Romance…

by Gem Sivad

Telling the story of men and women of previous eras includes an honest look at the conditions in which they lived. I write historical western romance, and in order to achieve a sense of realism, I do quite a lot of research into the cultural and mechanical deficiencies and imperatives of the day.

For example, to write about a woman in 1880 Texas, I have to move their mentally. If my character is a good cook like Lucy Quince, (Intimate Strangers) I need to know what kind of stove she would have used. Once I learn that, I have to research what kind of food was available, how it was obtained and preserved, and basic preparation facts.

Lucy Quince wakes up with no memory, abandoned for dead. She makes a life for herself cooking in a small restaurant while she waits for someone who knew her to make a claim.

Excerpt ~

Her head and back hurt something awful. She’d been up and on her feet before dawn, baking biscuits and bread for the breakfast crowd.

“Whew-ee, Quincy, it sure is hot in here.” Roberta came through the swinging door, fanning herself with the white lawn handkerchief she always carried. “It’s halfway through morning. Why do you still have that oven going?”

Quincy Smith wrinkled her nose and blew a strand of hair from her eyes. Her brow glistened as the heat from the baking rolls wrapped her in steam and the smell of cinnamon.

“Do we do this for you to practice your social skills or to make money?” Roberta made an impish moue at Quincy’s wry question and rolled her eyes.

Patiently, her partner in the Robin’s Nest Café explained, “The cowboys have a love for sweets. It’s easy to pinch off some of the dough to make cinnamon rolls. It cranks up the heat in the kitchen some, but since it never cools down much anyway, and fixing food for men who will buy it is our business, stop complaining…”
~~~

In the course of writing about the Old West I’ve found some very detailed research sites devoted to information such as: The Food Timeline FAQS: 19th century American foodways. ~ http://www.foodtimeline.org/foodpioneer.html ~

Looking at the changing fashions and how they were adapted by Western women has also brought me to some interesting sites, one of which is named, 19th Century Fashions ~ http://www.angelfire.com/ar3/townevictorian/victorianfashion.html ~

Women who traveled to the West brought with them the stiff, restrictive clothing of their Eastern counterparts. But, the impractical nature of the many layers that made for difficult maneuvering, quickly brought about necessary modifications. Such is the case with Naomi Parker, recent arrival to Flat Rock, Texas when she encounters half-Kiowa bounty hunter, Charlie Wolf McCallister (Wolf’s Tender).

Excerpt ~

He’d been waiting for her first challenge and it pleased him to cut away the iron trappings that compressed her flesh as he would cut away the false trappings of her society. He drew his blade and once again pulled her to him.

“What are you going to do, cut my hand again to punish me?” Her words were derisive, not the respectful tone of a squaw. It occurred to Charlie right then that Miss Naomi Parker wasn’t exhibiting the usual white woman’s fear of him.

In one motion, he cut through the fabric of her clothes—the dress, the chemise underneath, and the lacings of the corset that constricted her flesh. He stroked his finger down the pinch mark that marred her flesh, pleased to see pink flesh and rounded breasts spring free. “Don’t wear one of those damned things again.”

Apparently struck dumb, she said nothing when he shoved the cut material wide, pushing it off her shoulders, to the floor, where the corset landed with a loud thunk. She stood before him in nothing but cotton drawers.
~~~

So, telling a story set in 1880 Texas, is a composite of the 19th century West, and includes defining the roles of the residents… the sheriff, the rich ranch owner, and the local saloon riff-raff—but also the society ladies, ranch women, homesteaders wives, and town floosies.

Since my primary objective when I write historical romance is to explore a relationship between lovers, my inquisitive mind has to ask, Did these women really have no influence, no autonomy, no freedom?
I think they had influence and as much freedom in their lives as they chose to demand or command.
Progress in obtaining, indoor plumbing, gas lights, coeducational schools, and the right to vote were the product of female preachers, unsung female political leaders, noted writers, and savvy wives who were partners in western settlements.
The most distressing, but challenging task for me in writing western romance is to make sure that my heroine is not a prisoner of circumstance.
No one wants to read about some poor woman who is stuck with an abusive husband and six kids unless I can help her get rid of him and let her use her wits, seductive skills, and courage to take charge of her individual destiny.
Whatever the setting or genre, when writing romance, the success of the tale rests in the grit of the girl and the mesmerizing strength of the man. But a fascinating detail can make the entire read something to remember and ponder later.
~~~

A Brief Overview of the Women’s Movement in the 19th Century

1791~The Rights of Women (Déclaration des droits de la femme) written by French woman Olympe de Gouges, had a unique perspective. Gouges suggested that females should share equal status with males, an idea which caused immediate consternation.

1792~ Vindication of the Rights of Woman written by Mary Wollstonecraft the next year in Britain was considered feminist literature, but was still published in Boston and Philadelphia the same year it appeared in England. Wollstonecraft argued passionately for a woman’s “God given rights of civil and religious liberty.”

1848~ The Declaration of Sentiments, principally authored by Elizabeth Cady Stanton was written at Seneca Falls, New York at a convention attended by 300 hundred men and women who had come together to discussthe social, civil, and religious conditions of women.

1852~ The Rights of Women were discussed at the Syracuse Convention and suggested that women were linked together by a history of biology that superseded laws and cultural conventions. This outrageous notion prompted the London Times to suggest that the most “volatile segment of society …are women insurrectionists.”

You can learn more about Gem Sivad at Gem’s Place. ~ http://gemsivad.wordpress.com ~

NOTE: There are some mighty handsome, skin-showin’ cowboys over at Gem’s blog if yer in the mood for some lookin’ and apprciatin’.