Sutter Cane Books Novels & Stories

The wind moved through Wren Hollow like a whisper from the grave—dry, persistent, and full of secrets. It stirred the dust along the path to the cemetery, lifted the edges of black skirts, and rustled the cottonwoods that lined the ridge like sentinels. Gabrielle Moreau sat astride her horse, Raven, watching the mourners gather below. Her posture was straight, her face unreadable. But her eyes—dark, sharp, and unyielding—missed nothing.

When my eyes finally flutter open, I find an old copy of Our Story in the bag. I set the T-shirt aside and reach for the book. It’s worn and well-loved. Like it had been read cover to cover many times. I open to the first page. Stamped neatly is a line that says Sutten Mountain Book Exchange If Lost Please Return To… My fingers run over the neatly printed name on the line. Linda Jennings.

She Rode More Than The Train (2) [In this chapter, Zara, the slut, meets another stranger and tries to have her way with him.] Zara braced one hand on the cubicle wall as the train rumbled underneath her. Her other hand guided her body down, slowly taking him in. His cock was thick, longer than she expected, and the stretch made her gasp. She rocked her hips gently at first, easing onto him inch by inch, her breath hitching as pleasure started to pulse through her core.

Sane wasn’t really fond of reading the news as he barely had enough time with his duties in life, especially now that his attention was already taken by the utterly alluring girl, Seleen Y. De Castro, and he wasn’t even complaining! In fact, he even liked it. He liked giving her attention, and he also liked being given attention by her. How great it was to be loved by her, to receive all of her little kisses now and there, to see her life, to feel her against his skin, everything about her was addicting for Sane.

VOLUME SEVEN: A SADDLE CREEK CHRISTMAS COLLECTION 2 Book 1: A New Diner for Christmas Susan Malloy glanced at her longtime friend, Lori Witherite, sitting across from her at a glass table on the lanai. A warm morning ocean breeze flipped her hair off her face while she sipped an iced coffee. "It sure is beautiful here in Florida. I love it." Susan pushed her hair behind her ears. "Yes, it is, and you've worked so hard for too many years not to enjoy it year-round." Lori smoothed the tablecloth.

"Get your heads in the game! If I see one more lazy pass, you can all spend the rest of the week running laps until you puke!" Sloane’s voice echoed through the Chicago Storm locker room like a gunshot. She paced the length of the tiled floor, her footsteps heavy and uneven. Every time she shifted her weight, she felt a sharp, lingering ache between her thighs. The memory of the concrete floor and Tatum’s rough fingers flashed through her mind, making her core tighten. She was still sore, her pussy feeling swollen and sensitive from the intensity of their encounter in the tunnel. The physical reminder of Tatum’s dominance was driving her into a frenzy of irritation.

Then I saw him. Ryan stood in the clearing beside the cabin, shirtless, sweat glistening on his broad, muscled back. The axe came down hard, splitting a log clean in two with a sharp crack. He was bigger than I remembered. Taller. Shoulders wide, abs carved from years of whatever the hell he did now. At twenty-five, my stepbrother looked like he belonged on one of those outdoor magazines. “Great,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re already here.”

Lillie Damon stared out the window of her cabin. The lightning in the midnight sky illuminated the forest on Slaughter Hill. Wind hissed through the forests. Thunder rang with a loud explosion that echoed for miles. She was determined it was a suitable midnight to cast a spell upon her suitor Paul. She went into the shower. Lying down on the counter was a comb that Paul used to comb his hair. Lillie picked up the hair from his comb. Lillie stepped onto the back deck and cleaned the soil off the underside of his loafers. She continued into the backyard and ignited a picture of him and picked up the ashes. She was squatting on the floor with torches all around her. The gleam of the torches pro