The cover was shot by the incredibly talented Cory Stierley of our dear sweet friend, Taylor Lotre. Michele Catalano wove her magic to design it into a cover that I adore, and that represents the shadowy, sexy Tavo. Thank you to my lovely team for my cover. Shall we do it again?
Shanoff Designs makes my paperbacks pretty and calmly puts up with my PITA self. Coffee on me.
My husband and son walked the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain in summer 2017 along with other family members. They reminded me of things I’d forgotten like Cola Cao. They, along with my daughter, also put up with me spending hours staring at a laptop in an ugly, battered pink chair in the corner. I love you with all that I am.
Ginger Snaps won her name being put in this book via a contest in my Facebook Group, Southwinds Coffee. Congrats, love.
My darlings in Southwinds—I wanted to post every single one of your names in here. I am so grateful for your friendship, support, sense of humor, naughty sense of humor, and love. Thank you always.
And to my friends and family, I love you.
Bonus
Bonus Short Story #1
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If you liked Court and Maggie, you can read more about them in Lumbersexual. Here is a bonus sweet story.
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A Lumbersexual Christmas
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The winter-clean air chilled our cheeks, turned our noses red, and forced our breath out in hot puffs like smoke. A hush covered Yosemite Valley like a blanket, muffling all sounds as if Maggie and I were in a natural cathedral. In many ways, we were, with the high granite peaks on all sides of us and the crystal clear colors dazzling in the white sunlight. Our snowshoes crunched the fresh snow as we trudged to Yosemite Falls, inhaling the pure conifer scent of the trail. I was just happy that she was at my side, although my stomach jumped with anxiety at what I planned.
A Christmas Eve snowfall this morning had trapped us in the Valley until the roads were cleared—which wasn’t expected for a few days. So we’d checked into the soaring and gracious Ahwahnee Hotel, bought some emergency clothes, and spent most of the afternoon and evening warming each other in bed and cuddling by the huge stone fireplaces of the historic hotel, trying every hot drink on the menu.
For the record, sweet, warm Maggie + hot cocoa = heaven.
This morning, Christmas morning, she’d surprised me with a soft, flannel Pendleton shirt she’d sneakily bought at the gift shop, a classic button-down you’d keep for generations. I absolutely loved it and wore it on this hike. I’d given her new gloves and a sketchbook for her botanical drawings, the best I could do while away from our tree and the already wrapped presents in my cabin.
Our cabin.
Maggie didn’t seem to mind the change of plans. She gazed with wonder out the tall windows of the hotel lobby and appeared to live in the moment, unperturbed, even though we were stranded. One of many reasons why I loved her—she trusted me and I trusted her, and we’d always find our way together.
Always.
That said, she didn’t know what was in my pocket. I’d been carrying it around with me for a month, searching for the right moment.
Like now.
On that thought, my heart rate increased, and it had nothing to do with the exertion from snowshoeing.
Over the last year and a half, Maggie and I had returned to the famous waterfall dozens of times, the place where we had our first kiss. The snow transformed the landscape, obscuring its features so that everything seemed different and new, and the path became unfamiliar, even though I knew it by heart.
Like I knew Maggie’s face by heart.
And I knew that even though the next step I wanted to take with her was different, new, and unfamiliar, it was nevertheless a journey I desperately wanted to take with her.
For the rest of my life.
I gazed at her as we walked. She’d shoved most of her dark spiral curls into a stocking cap, but some unruly ones escaped, buoyant like her. Her fresh face and multicolor eyes held a joy and expectancy at exploring pure nature without anyone around.
“This is the most beautiful place in the world,” she breathed.
I nodded, my sandy hair covered by the kind of Elmer Fudd hunter hat that Holden Caulfield wore and a scarf wrapped around my neck up to my nose. One gloved hand held hers. The other fingered the box in my jacket pocket.
We kept walking, making fresh tracks, almost blinded in the snow from the piercing sunlight, while white-covered boulders gave us some much-needed shade.
A rustle sounded off to the side, and a family of deer came by. While we saw deer all the time, we still stopped and stared, watching them romp and hop along their way.
When we came to the base of Yosemite Falls, instead of the massive spray we’d see in spring, an inverted cone of snow and ice stood at the base from the frozen water.
“I’ve always wanted to see that,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the sacred quiet.
“Me too,” I murmured, shoving down my scarf to expose my face, my heart racing even more.
She turned to me and lifted up her face, and I kissed her, gently, my beard stroking her smooth cheek. I held both of her hands, our bodies warmed from the walk.
“I don’t ever want to leave. Can we just stay here?” Her eyes crinkled with merriment, but I could tell she genuinely wanted to hold on to this moment, let the beauty of the Valley soak into her pores.
“I’d like that,” I said huskily.
Her eyes closed and then opened, and she let go of my hands and did a funny spin on her snowshoes, tromping the snow and taking in the power and presence of the woods. Then she stopped and gazed at me, so lovely and all mine.
I took a deep breath.
It was now or never.
I held both her hands.
And in the snow, I got down on one knee, my black snow pants shielding me from the cold.
I let go of one of her hands, dug in my pocket for the little box, and pulled it out.
Her eyes were wide like the expanse of the stars at night. “What are you doing, Court?”
“Maggie,” I whispered. “Margaret Washington. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I love your beauty and your intelligence, your spirit and your soul. I love how I trust you and how you trust me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Be mine forever? Will you marry me?”
And I opened up the box, showing her my grandmother’s ring.
And I held my breath again.
And waited.
And waited.
Her eyes grew bigger and a tear fell down the corner. She inhaled and shrieked, “Oh my God! Yes! Yes, Court, I’ll marry you! I love you!”
Her voice and our love echoed through the forest, and my heart soared, content that it was going to be official. That we were official.
She pulled her glove off and slipped the ring on her finger. An art deco diamond with flowers and scrolls, just perfect for my botanist.
And she pulled me up by my armpits and wrapped her arms around me so tight, looking up, seeking my face, kissing me desperately.
“I love you always,” she said, and burst into tears.
I kissed them away and assured her, “I’ll always love you more.”
EXTRA BONUS!
Bonus Short Story #2
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If you liked Will and Marie, you can read about them in The Stars in the Sky. Here’s a bonus sexy story.
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Will and Marie Make a Baby
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“It’s time.”
“What?” I panted, sucking on his earlobe, inhaling his clean scent of soap and hard work.
“It’s time, Marie,” Will repeated in his gruff voice, as he nipped down my neck with little bites and deep, wet kisses. Urgent kisses that made me gasp and claw at his smooth, muscular back, at his dark, wavy hair.
I needed him. We’d been two weeks apart while he was on a livestock-buying trip, and that was approximately fourteen days too man
y. Even after so long together, we hated being apart. I especially hated being in our bed without him.
The man had to get inside me. I needed skin-to-skin touch.
Now.
But he held back, gloriously shirtless, hovering over me as I lay naked and sprawled on our antique bed, my long legs bent and spread. He’d unbuttoned his Wranglers and pushed them low on his hips, the unbuckled belt dangling down.
I licked my lips.
My mahogany-eyed cowboy was a man of few words, so I was used to pressing him for more details. That said, normally when he got my clothes off, I could figure out what he intended to do.
This time, though, because of the serious tone of his voice, I didn’t understand what he meant.
“Time for what?”
He traced a finger down my side. “You quit the pill before I left, right?”
My stomach dipped and a wave of nausea rolled through me. The skin on my torso became sensitized to the air and his rough, farmer hands. My mouth got dry.
Thuh-wump, went my heart. Then it sped up.
Just like time sped up and blurred together.
It felt like one minute ago we were fighting about politics. Thirty seconds ago, we were married.
And now?
I took a deep breath and held it, studying his serious face. And then I nodded.
Everything was happening too fast.
We’d talked about having kids. We both wanted them.
But when I saw my beautiful husband step in the door after being away, with road dust on his boots, a trucker hat squishing his luscious hair, and his biceps bulging out his T-shirt, all I’d thought was, NEED. And, NOW.
His thought was next level, though.
I let out the breath. My head whirled. My hands shook.
Keeping his lips on my neck, Will murmured, “Time for us to make a baby. You with me?”
Then he backed up and locked his eyes on mine.
Was I with him?
My patient, giving husband? My lover? My soulmate?
Absolutely.
I nodded.
And as I nodded, I burst into a grin and pulled him back to me, wrapping my arms and legs around him so tight, so joyous. His warm and comforting arms held me to him as if he’d never let me go.
My body trembled in his embrace.
“You’re with me,” he confirmed. With his nose buried in my pink and purple My Little Pony-colored hair, he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him, “I’ve wanted this so long. I’ve wanted you. And I’ve wanted our baby.”
I clung to him, our breaths joining together. For a moment, I couldn’t say anything, but my chest became light and buoyant, and a peace settled over me. A confidence in the right decision.
And then, at the right time, once I’d gathered myself back together, he shifted.
“I don’t know that it will work the first time,” I whispered, my heels pushing down his pants.
He kissed me gently, with a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t mind the practice, darlin’.”
Will pressed his forehead to mine and then slid off the bed. He hooked his thumbs in his jeans and dropped them to the floor.
I gawked.
No matter how many times he did this, it was always an event.
As usual, my lover went commando. And as usual, his pants hid male beauty he really knew how to use.
And if the erectness of it were anything to go by, he was really wanting to use it right about now.
As I squirmed on the bed, he paused at the foot, gazing at me, his eyes traveling from my feet to my face, and staying there.
He put both hands on the bed and leaned over. “Marie.”
I scrambled up, reaching for his fingers to pull him to me. “Yeah.”
Will smiled with his eyes and didn’t say anything. Typical.
“What?” I asked.
“I love you,” he growled, and pushed me back into the bed.
Yeah. We were really doing this.
“I love you too,” I tried to say, but he took my breath away almost immediately.
I’d expected it to be hot and heavy and fast, since we hadn’t seen each other. I was so wet, needing him, needing his skin on mine and his cock inside me. I was sure he felt the same.
But he took his time, gliding his fingers up my legs.
Then his mouth found my pussy, and he feasted.
My God.
The man devoted all his attention, all his energy, all his power to the apex of my thighs. His tongue nudged and darted, then circled, then made my already woken-up nerves sing.
He slipped a finger inside me. And another. And curled them up, playing my body like an instrument.
I started chanting. “Will. Oh my God, Will. Honey. Oh, don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he muttered against my skin, and kept going, his tongue lapping, his pants on me.
The orgasm I was sure to have?
Yeah.
Righteous.
My feet were on fire. My nails scratched at the sheet. My head flopped back and forth, like I was possessed.
I was possessed. From him.
Will kept going. And going. And going.
Until my muscles contracted and everything in my body wound so tight that I didn’t know that I’d survive. I gasped and screamed and cried. “Oh my God, Will. Oh my God!”
And with a holy release, my body quivered and I came so hard I blew the roof off the farmhouse. My body let go of all the tension.
All of the stuff I’d held in from his absence, from missing him.
He was here, and he’d made me boneless. And satisfied. So satisfied.
Now it was his turn.
And if we were lucky, we’d get something else, too.
“Come here, cowboy,” I whispered.
He nodded. Crawling up the bed, he positioned his cock at my entrance and pushed his way into my hot, slick, needy body, which sucked him up and welcomed his size gratefully.
“Fuck, yes,” he gasped, as he started to move.
Over and over and over again, he thrust into me, his movements skilled, the pleasure mounting yet again for me.
“I. Fucking. Love. You,” he bit out, and his cock hit that rough place inside that made me spasm again.
This time, sweeter than the first.
“Give it to me. Will. Give me you. I need you.”
He nodded and kept pistoning into me, an even pace that got faster and faster.
And faster.
I loved it when he did this. I loved it when he lost control. I loved it when Will just plain fucked me.
“Wanted to make love,” he said.
“You are. Do it, lover. Come. Give it to me,” I said.
He nodded, kissed me, smelling of me, and then pulled his shoulders back, his cock doing a fantastic uptick. The vein in his neck became pronounced. His cheeks flushed.
And with a sexy exhalation, Will threw his head back and came with a roar, spilling all himself into me in hot, gushing spurts.
Yes.
After a few more thrusts, he collapsed onto me, his lips on my shoulder.
My stomach rose to meet his. I wrapped my ankles around his ass and played with his hair. He traced my tattoos on my side with his fingers.
“Think we did it that time,” he said. “But give me a moment and we’ll do a bonus round.”
I smiled and kissed him. “Want a boy or a girl?”
“Healthy. Just healthy.”
I wrapped him in a hug, and we lay there for a long, long time.
Other books by Leslie McAdam
Thank you so much for reading Sombra!
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If you want to keep in touch and find out about my next releases, please sign up for my newsletter over at www.lesliemcadamauthor.com or find me on social media (usually hiding under the name, Leslie McAdam). If you like pics of shirtless men and lots of giveaways, I have a really fun Facebook Group: www.facebook.com/groups/southwindscoffee.
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If you want to read my other books, they are all steamy standalones with HEAs!
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Each book in the Giving You… series can be read as a standalone. Warning, mature content.
The Sun and the Moon (2015 Watty winner, featured in Cosmopolitan.com)
After a heartbreaking tragedy, successful attorney Amelia Crowley has numbed herself to the pleasures of life, clinging to a specific set of rules, finding strength in order and organization. When she meets easy going surfer Ryan Fielding, that organized life is turned upside down by a sea of washboard abs and sun-kissed hair. Can Amelia let Ryan take the lead or will she cling to her rules and wipe out their chance at love?
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The Stars in the Sky (#1 in Western Erotic Romance and a bestseller)
When foul-mouthed, tattooed, vegan Marie Diaz-Austin accepted a summer internship on a ranch north of Santa Barbara to work with underprivileged and special needs kids she was expecting hard work. She wasn't expecting the gorgeous, but conservative rancher, Will Thrash who wants nothing to do with left-wing hippies like her. Although they hate each other’s politics, they can't deny their immediate and growing attraction to each other. But when they're forced to make a choice, what will give? Their principles or themselves?
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All the Waters of the Earth (International bestseller)
Romance novelist Lucy Figueroa lives a life of the imagination. While her stories are filled with fictional alpha male heroes, her real life is filled with nothing but Mr. Wrongs. Lucy's sexy new neighbor, Jake Slausen, looks like one of her characters come to life. While he fits the heartthrob part, he doesn't act it, too distracted by his cell phone and his job for any relationship. First drawn together by chemistry, then by a fierce need to protect each other even from themselves, will Jake and Lucy learn to accept their pasts or will they convince themselves that happily ever afters only exist in romance novels?
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