Yeehaw!!!! M. J. Schiller is here with her newest addition to the LOVE AND CHAOS series! I'm so excited to showcase it. M. J. Schiller writes stories with very real characters -- hunky heroes and spunky heroines! So, let's dive in!
​

ROCK OF SALVATION: EXCERPT

​I stepped away from the door and peeled my sweaty shirt off. A shower was going to feel amazing. And I was moving in that direction, until I was brought up short, realizing my shower was already running.

Did Dex get our dressing rooms confused?

It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened. I started to cross to rap on the door and it opened, a big ball of steam rolling out. A form emerged through the mist. A beautiful, womanly form. As the steam dissipated, I got a better idea of what I was looking at. She stood with a towel wrapped around her and one twisted on her head. Her gaze lifted to mine.

“Oh.” Her mouth became a perfect circle for a moment. Then she cleared her throat. “Uhh…hello—” She stopped abruptly and ran a hand up the door frame. As what appeared like an afterthought, she cocked the opposite hip awkwardly, in a position that she seemed to think was sexy. And, while it had its merits, her shaky voice, in fact, her whole demeanor told me she was an amateur.

What sort of rebellious preacher’s daughter have we got here, pretending to be a dirty girl?

She wet her lips nervously, which was probably the most provocative thing she had done, even though she did that as if without thinking. “Hello, handsome.”

I stifled a laugh. Her come-on was straight from a movie. No, she didn’t belong here at all. “Okay. Get your clothes on.”

“But don’t you want to….” She gestured vaguely.

It suddenly irritated me. She waltzes in and uses my shower. If I’d done the same to her, I would have been arrested. That flash of anger made me want to embarrass her. I finished her sentence. “Slap the sheets? Screw? Get laid?”

It did knock her back a bit. She blinked. “Yes. All those. I guess….” She chewed on a nail.

I inwardly rolled my eyes. I’d put money on this chick being a virgin. I felt an urge to play with her. It was mean and beneath me, but I had a strong desire to see just how far she would go with this miserable charade of a seduction.

“Okay. Let’s get at it then.” I crossed to her in two big strides. “You won’t be needing this.” I plucked the towel from her and tossed it aside, then pulled her against me.

She gasped and fear shadowed her features. It made me feel sorry for her and wonder what her story was, but I needed to teach her a lesson.

“So, what are you waiting for?” An edge cut through my words, because now that I was near her, and could smell the floral innocence of her fragrance, see her pretty, pouty lips, look into what had to be the most doe-like, amazing eyes I had ever seen, my body awoke.

Oh, shit. I want her. I could so have her without a single worry about whether it was right or not. She was in my shower. But I already knew I wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it, to her.

I grasped her chin, tilting her head back. “I thought you wanted to do me?”

She blinked rapidly and I could feel her tremble, which freaking made me yearn for her even more. The towel on her head fell off, exposing red hair with a hint of curl to it.

Shit.

Redheads were my weakness. I brushed my lips over hers. “Come on.” I swallowed but kept trying to push her buttons without engaging mine. “What’s making you wait?” I ran my tongue around her lips and kissed them softly. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Holy shit! I haven’t felt this turned on in a long time, if ever. And it has to be for the virgin I’m unwilling to hurt. This sucks.

I angled my head and lowered my lips until I was a breath apart from her. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Huh?” My voice sounded husky. “You want to do it, right?” I kissed her again, longer this time, and deeper. I made the mistake of lifting my gaze to hers, and suddenly I felt weak. Because, in that one moment, I couldn’t see the little girl trying to pretend to be something she wasn’t. All I could see was the desire I had ignited in her.
Her nails raked the skin of my neck and scalp as she threaded her fingers through my hair. With a flick of her tongue, she lashed my lips. Then did it again, searing me with her mouth. Branding me. I let my hand drift down to brush along the skin of her hip. Each new contact with her stirred me all the more. In a rush, I scooped her up from beneath her thighs, and we banged into the wall. I brought my mouth to her neck, grazing her with my teeth, tasting her with my tongue. Her heat against my straining crotch made me even harder.

It was going to take all of my scarce self-restraint to resist her.

She’s somebody’s daughter. She’s somebody’s daughter. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Although it freaking feels like she knows what she’s doing. She’s simply acting out. She’ll regret giving herself for the first time to a guy like me.

My entire being groaned.

She’s just another girl. Like all the rest. There’s nothing special about her, even if it feels a tad different this time. For me, it will be like every other time. I don’t need this. I don’t need her.

​I pushed away, getting a glimpse of a killer body before turning from my temptation. But I could tell she was determined, and she wouldn’t leave unless I forced her to. Scared her. She was a novice. She would crumble. I could handle her. She was a kitten, and I was the king of the jungle. I was freaking Jericho Tyler.

About M. J. Schiller

M.J. Schiller is a lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-seven-year-old and three twenty-five-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.


​Website: https://mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/m-j-schiller
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MJ-Schiller-Romance-Author/286382241460365?ref=hl
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mjschiller/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjschiller
Tumblr: http://mjschilz.tumblr.com/
Instagram: https://instagram.com/mjschiller
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6479377.M_J_Schiller
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/M-J-Schiller/e/B009JOQFQQ
​

​SUNSHINE’S WELCOME is on the shelves. Delilah’s story is done. And I’m awed.
 
I started writing the TEXAS BRIDES OF PIKE’S RUN series in 2000. The first book, WELCOME HOME, was published in 2013.
 
My Texas Brides series is almost done. Only one book left. I can’t fathom this.
 
And while SUNSHINE’S WELCOME is not the last story in the collection, it is the last that will take place in the past. We’re going to say goodbye to the characters that started Pike’s Run and the Swinging A.
 
My heart can’t take it.
 
While Delilah’s story is hers, it’s also everyone else’s. We go on a journey that recalls what came before her, those who shaped her, and made her Little-Bit, Dynamite, and now…Sunshine.
 
If you’ve been with us through the whole series, I hope you find SUNSHINE’S WELCOME as the proper goodbye to the past. You might want to read it with some tissues. (I sure needed to.)
​

SUNSHINE'S WELCOME: EXCERPT

Killian Blake trotted down Main Street early Tuesday morning, looking straight ahead, senses alert and aware of his surroundings. A variety of shops stood on either side of the road, along with the Royal Hotel that rose two stories and had an upper balcony. The shingle for the sheriff’s office swung in the chill breeze. Not many people strolled the walks, the colder temperature keeping them inside where fires burned, as evidenced by the smoke wisping out of chimneys.

A quiet place. A small town. Not even on his map. But here he was, on assignment. Who knew for how long, but hopefully the stint allowed him to rest for a few weeks. After chasing Sasha Parker, The Debonair Kid, and his gang of train robbers across five states for six months, Killian was ready for a breather. Even if that reprieve put him back in the corral.

But he’d handle it. After eight years, it might be good to work with horses again. Of course, he still had to get the job with the Swinging A ranch. If he didn’t, Detective Irwin wouldn’t be happy.

It didn’t take long for Killian to reach the end of the line of stores, and he continued on, heading to the cattle ranch located two miles outside of town that was run by the Davis and Lonnigan families. Killian was on the hunt for a position as a wrangler.

The solitary ride out to the ranch allowed him the chance to survey his surroundings even more. He went past pasture and forests of pine before a homestead came into view on his left. A sign proclaiming “J. Lonnigan, Veterinarian” stood at the gate. A one-story cabin about fifty feet in length sat on a gentle rise, while a variety of stables, paddocks, pens and corrals were on the side and behind the dwelling. Someone worked with a mule in one of the paddocks, and children darted around, some carrying out chores while others played.

Though the last name was the same as the owners of the ranch, Killian didn’t stop. He had the advertisement for the needed wrangler folded in his shirt pocket. It indicated that more information could be found at Callahan’s in Pike’s Run, Texas. The bartender at the saloon had told Killian to whom he should apply— J.T. Davis, Kyle Lonnigan or Deacon Tolbert—and that their spread was two miles south of town on the right. It shouldn’t be much farther and once he arrived, he just had to be hired.

When the gate to the Swinging A appeared, black iron against a chill, blue sky, he turned his horse down a path with deep wagon ruts going under the arched entrance. To his right rose a three-story, grand Victorian home, while a dog-run cabin stood to his left. About two hundred yards of freshly plowed land separated the dwellings. Probably for cotton, he surmised.

He trotted toward the cabin as the bartender had directed him to do, but when he knocked on the kitchen door, no one answered. Frowning, Killian headed out of the dog-run and scanned the field. A barn had been a little behind the cabin. Perhaps the owner of the home was inside. Leaving his horse tethered to the hitching post outside the house, Killian walked toward the larger structure.

As he did so, movement in a tall oak grabbed his attention. He slowed his steps as bits of yellow peeked through the branches that, despite the season, still held leaves. Someone was up in the tree.

He moved closer, ducking down to try to get a better view of who sat on one of the higher branches. Petticoats peeked out beneath a yellow linen dress. Struck, Killian barked, “What the hell?”

A feminine squeak and gasp accompanied a crash.

The bright yellow bundle tumbled down, and Killian’s heart flew up into his throat. He shot forward, stretching out his arms, and caught her just in time. He stumbled under the blow but kept his feet, jostling her close against his chest.

Breathing heavily, his pulse beating wildly, he gazed into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Auburn hair framed an angelic face that blinked in astonishment. Her full lips parted as she clutched the front of his shirt with one hand and held tight to his shoulders with the other arm.

Oh…what the hell…

​He’d just caught a beauty.