Release Blitz: Stable Hand by AE Lister #LGBTQ #ContemporaryRomance @lizbethlister

Title: Stable Hand

Series: The Braided Crop Ranch, Book One

Author: AE Lister

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 2, 2020

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, BDSM, pony play, cowboys, entertainment, sex toys, menage, polyamory, rewards, punishments

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

The Braided Crop Ranch is looking for stable hands. But this is no ordinary horse ranch. They cater to men with a certain interest. An interest involving harnesses, tails, and trainers.

Managed and expertly run by registered psychologist, Adam Marsland, the Ranch is a safe place for the expression of sex positive and kink positive needs and fantasies.

Jensen Moriarty is desperate for a job. He can handle horses. In fact, he’s a pro at it. Too bad the BCR doesn’t deal with real horses. But they do have “ponies”.

If Jensen can wrap his head around what the BCR actually stands for, he may have the opportunity to expand his resumé and experience something completely unexpected in the process.

Excerpt

Stable Hand
AE Lister © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Horses. They were what I knew. What I’d grown up knowing, riding, grooming, tacking in the small Alberta town where I’d lived.

I missed small-town life. Ottawa wasn’t a huge city, but it was big enough, crowded enough, it made me crave the peace and quiet of a smaller life.

My friend Mitchell hadn’t told me much about the Braided Crop Ranch except to say the place was secluded deep in the heart of the Muskokas in Northern Ontario, which turned out to be an understatement.

From my calculations I was only about twenty minutes away, but the brush had thickened, and the GPS wasn’t making sense. There wasn’t even a proper road. Out of desperation, I pulled my car over to the gravel on the side of the dirt track. I left the car on, air conditioner blasting, while I looked up the name of the man who’d interviewed me over the phone: a Mr. Adam Marsland. I found the number quickly in my contacts and hit call.

“BCR, Connor speaking,” a chipper male voice announced after a few rings.

The voice didn’t belong to Mr. Marsland.

“Uh,” I hesitated. “Hi. I’m trying to reach Adam Marsland?”

“Who’s calling, please?”

I cleared my throat, feeling like an idiot. Nothing like starting a new job and not being able to find the place. “This is Jensen Moriarty. I’m supposed to be there at noon, but I—”

“Oh, hi, Jensen. I’m Mr. Marsland’s personal assistant. Would you like me to get him for you?”

“I just need directions. My GPS isn’t making sense.”

Connor laughed. “He should have told you not to rely on the GPS. You should be using the map from the email.”

Email? “What email?”

There was a pause. “You didn’t get the welcome email? The one outlining our policies and practices? I’m sure I sent the form to you a few days ago…”

I wracked my brain but didn’t remember seeing an email. Unless the message had gone into my spam folder. “No, I didn’t get it. A map would be…helpful.”

“Sure, yeah, let me text the map to you. Hold on a second.”

“You might as well text me the other info as well.”

Connor cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’ll let Mr. Marsland explain everything when you get here.”

I heard a notification and saw the map had come through. I opened the file quickly and had a look.

“Looks like I’m not too far.”

“Okay, come to the main building when you get here. You’ll see the BCR sign on the wall.”

“BCR?” I asked, wiping a crushed mosquito off the dash.

“The Braided Crop Ranch. That is where you’re trying to get to, right?”

“Yes. I just— Yes, that’s where I’m headed.” God, could I make a worse first impression?

“I’ll make sure Adam is here to greet you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As I’d suspected, I wasn’t far out. If I followed this dirt road and turned onto another called Rattler’s Revenge in about three miles, I’d be there.

Would they put me to work right away, cleaning stalls and looking after the horses? Mr. Marsland hadn’t described my exact duties during our phone interview, but Mitchell had said they were looking for a stable hand.

Marsland had seemed like a nice guy. He’d appeared more interested in the kind of person I was rather than in any experience I’d had. I’d explained I needed a job that would give me some direction along with a decent salary so I could pay off my student loans.

The business degree had been a waste of money, no matter what my parents said. Turned out I hated accounting. Yeah, I was good with numbers, but working with them all day and night was too much to ask.

I needed to be outside. I needed to be interacting with other beings, human or animal. I needed hard work and adventure.

Now I had no idea what I wanted to do. Except for horses. I wanted to work with horses. Living on a ranch with a bunch of other cowboys wouldn’t be so bad either. Even if they didn’t share my orientation, the eye candy would be heavenly.

I’d been surprised when Adam told me the salary I’d be earning. The level was high for a stable hand. He’d also mentioned something about the special stock at the BCR so maybe they only housed Arabians or something. That would be a treat. I’d never seen a full-blood Arabian horse up close.

After following the serpentine curve of Rattler’s Revenge for about fifteen minutes, the brush thinned, and I emerged into a large clearing with the impressive outline of the ranch spread before me. The path took me to a set of steel black gates with BCR in big iron letters affixed to the bars.

A black intercom box perched on the stone wall to the left of the gates. I pulled in close, lowered my window, and pressed the button.

There was a crackle and then Connor’s voice. “Name please.”

“Jensen Moriarty. We spoke on the phone.”

“Awesome. I’ll buzz you in.”

An electrical humming noise sounded as the gates unlocked and slowly swung open.

“Welcome to the BCR, Jensen,” Connor said.

I drove forward and rolled up the window to keep the heat out.

An array of bright red and brown buildings crowded the far distance. In front of me stood an imposing clapboarded farmhouse with these words, painted in black, spanning the wall:

THE BRAIDED CROP RANCH STABLES

~ Pony shows every month ~

Pony shows every month, huh? Looked like I’d have my work cut out for me.

I parked in the small lot to the left of the front door and turned the car off. I wondered if driving all the way out here had been the right thing to do. At any rate, the job provided a new beginning and somewhere to spend the summer. If I enjoyed the work and found the people to be friendly and helpful, maybe I’d stay for a while.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published many other books, one of which (Beyond the Edge) received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association–International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Branding Gemma by Paige Warren

Bookstrand    Amazon    B&N

[Menage Amour: Erotic Rubenesque Consensual BDSM Cowboy Menage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, flogging, sex toys, HEA] Gemma Brower is determined to turn her life around. Having fallen about as far as she can, she's ready to climb out of hell and find her way. She's determined that she isn't ready for another relationship after her last one ended so badly, but then she meets Synclair and Ryan Black, two brothers who are as different as night and day. She's not the only one in instant lust. The brothers have resolved to have her any way they can get her. With her ex acting like a crazy stalker, Gemma has more on her mind than her love life. Trevor's calls are escalating and she's worried he may come after her. After one too many threatening calls, she confides in the brothers, who vow to protect her at any cost. But is Gemma ready to trust again? Her heart is already battered from one failed relationship after another. Dare she attempt to fall in love once more? ** A Siren Erotic Romance

EXCERPT

She wanted a drink so badly, had felt the craving for alcohol ever since she’d left Trevor’s house, but she didn’t have the money to buy anything except cheap beer. She’d bought a six-pack that first night, but it hadn’t lasted past morning. It wasn’t hard for her to admit she had a problem, but she’d never wanted to do anything about it, before now. Alcohol had always been her escape from the nightmare that was her life. The endless parties, the late nights at one bar after another, a circle of friends that wasn’t into anything other than chasing the next high, hopping from one guy’s bed to another’s. Her life hadn’t started out that way. She’d just sort of fallen into it. She’d gotten sucked down fast and hard, and hadn’t been able to claw her way back out of the pit.

All of that was behind her now. She was going to look at Grizzly Pines as her saving grace. If she was going to start over, she was going to do it right. No more alcohol, no more smoking pot at parties… no more parties for that matter. The rest of her family seemed quite content to live a relatively quiet life. Surely, she could do the same thing. Hell, maybe she’d even get a pet once she had her own place. She’d had a dog growing up, but she’d always wanted a cat. Her mom had been allergic so it had been out of the question. There wasn’t even a barn cat at the family ranch. One had shown up once and her dad had immediately taken it to the local shelter to find a new home. She’d prayed every night that it hadn’t been put to sleep.

Before she could take care of a pet, she needed to learn to take better care of herself. If she could make a go of her writing, or find a steady job in Grizzly Pines, rent a decent place, then she’d consider herself rehabilitated and well on her way to being a productive member of society. She had her work cut out for her. Even she could admit that she needed more than a little bit of polish to make her shine. Rough edges? More like tarnished. Heavily tarnished.

She began chewing on a fingernail as she paced her living room. She was on her fifth circuit of the room when the phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar but it was local, so she answered it.

“Hello.”

“No one leaves me, bitch!”

Trevor! She should have known. He’d called several times over the past few weeks, the same conversation every time.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have treated me like shit.”

“You had it good. Anytime you wanted a fix, I provided for you. The fridge was always stocked with your favorite beer and I kept a fully stocked bar. You didn’t even have to work if you didn’t want to. Women would kill to have been in your position.”

“You hit me, Trevor. You beat the living hell out of me until I could barely move! I was black and blue all over. Since when is that taking care of me?”

He snorted. “So I lost my temper every now and then. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a lazy, stupid bitch, it never would have happened. You had one job, Gemma. Keep the damn house clean, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“No one could keep up with your twenty beer cans a day littering the house, dirty dishes left by your chair after every meal, and your clothes being dropped just wherever the hell you felt like taking them off. I was your girlfriend, not your damn slave.”

“You’re going to regret leaving me, Gemma. Don’t think I don’t know where you are. I’ve been watching you. I know all about that roach-infested tin can you’re staying in. We’ll be together again. Soon.”

He hung up and she disconnected the call with a shaky hand. There was no doubt he’d make good on his threat, if he could find her. Good thing she was leaving first thing in the morning! Beau was saving her in more ways than one. She’d never be able to repay him. She just hoped Trevor stayed away until then.

Gemma started pacing again and ended up pacing for so long that the sun was rising before she realized how much time had passed. The odd thing was that she wasn’t the least bit tired. If anything, she was excited to start this next phase of her life. It hadn’t taken her long to throw her scattered clothing into the garbage bag, only leaving out a change of clothes to start her new day, her new life. She took the quickest shower in history, and was just snapping her short-sleeved western shirt when there was a knock on the door. She didn’t think it was eight already, but maybe more time had passed than she’d thought.

Pulling open the door, she smiled at Beau. The rising sun told her he was early, but she was okay with that. There was a ball of energy just buzzing around inside of her, ready to burst free at any moment. If Beau hadn’t come when he had, she probably would have been sitting on the steps waiting for him, her bag and box beside her, feet tapping on the cement steps.

He glanced up at the towel wrapped around her head. “I think you forgot something.”

“You caught me getting out of the shower.”

He shivered. “Thanks, but the last thing I want to think about is you in the shower. Hurry up and brush your hair, or whatever it is you need to do. I’ll start getting your stuff together.”

About the Author

Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha male cowboys and the women who love them. There's nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers and a pair of well-worn boots. You have to admit, there's something sexy about a man who knows how to use a rope!

A cat lover, she has more than one furbaby running around, keeping her company in the wee hours of the morning as she tries to find just the right way to say "His skin gleamed, the early morning rays caressing his sun bronzed flesh, as he studied her from beneath the brim of his Stetson." Or, you know, something similar.

When Paige isn't dolling out tons of affection on the furbabies, or slurping down a pot of coffee (Yes! A whole pot!) so she can get in her daily word count, she enjoys reading and watching movies—romances, usually. 

Visit her website at www.paigewarrenauthor.com or email her at paigewarrenauthor@gmail.com.

Other Books by Paige