SYNOPSIS
Gray
Ridge, Colorado is a quiet town, but this Halloween there's a mating moon, and
the shifters' need to breed their fated mates runs strong.
Ruby
is the proud owner of Red's Goodie Basket, and as the new girl in town, she's
looking for business. But when the local sexy sheriff, Dominic Wolfe, keeps the
customers away, she finds it's hard to stay mad when burning with desire.
Dominic
is a shifter, and his wolf wants Ruby. Since the second he laid eyes on her,
he's been fighting the need to mark her as his. But when the mating moon is
full, he won't be able to control his wolf any longer.
Tricks
and treats are the last things on his mind when the mating heat takes over, and
his obsession is put to the test.
Warning:
This story is a sexy twist on a classic fairy tale, complete with a red cape, a
basket of goodies, and a hungry wolf. It's written to make you smile, turn you
on, and help you celebrate Halloween!
Buy the book
Bonus - Coach is
included with Riding Red for the first 2 weeks after release.
Excerpt
Chapter
1 *Ruby*
“We
can't serve those!” I look down at the cookies, which are shaped like tiny
dicks, and I try to convince myself I’m seeing things. It’s 5:30 in the
morning, and I haven’t had any coffee yet, so maybe my brain is still putting
things together. I scan the tray again, hoping I’m wrong. Nope. Definitely
little cocks.
“Why
not?” Gwen picks up one of the cock-shaped cookies and bites off the head,
making me cringe. I don’t have a penis, but I can imagine that would hurt.
“They taste delicious. I added a hint of pumpkin spice. Bitches love pumpkin
spice.” She nods her head like it’s a fact that bitches love pumpkin spice. She finishes the cookie, moaning
appreciatively. It gives a whole new meaning to ‘swallowing’ here at Red’s
Goodie Basket.
“Do
bitches like biting the heads off dicks too?”
Gwen scrunches her nose and looks down at the
batch of cookies on the prep table. “They don’t look like dicks. They’re
broomsticks.” But even as she defends herself, she tilts her head to study
them.
“Pubic
hair.” I point to what was supposed to be the bristles of a broom, then slide my
finger across what I’m guessing should have been the actual broomstick. “The
cock.”
She
bites her lip, and I can tell she’s trying to find a way to prove me wrong.
“Gwen.
If it’s a freaking broomstick, why is it cumming?” The end of the cookie has
white icing shooting out of it and clearly looks like cum.
“That’s
the magic coming out! It’s a witch’s broomstick!” She says it so earnestly that
I’m not sure who she's trying to convince here, me or herself.
“Yeah,
something’s coming out of it all right.”
Suddenly,
we both bust out laughing. I should be frustrated, but laughing feels good.
It’s something I haven’t done in a while, and I let it out, enjoying the
silliness of the situation.
When
we finally stop laughing, a worried look crosses her face. “It’s fine.” I try
to reassure her. I only opened the bakery a little over a week ago, and I’m
sure she thinks I might fire her. What she doesn’t know is, she’s the only
person who applied for the job. For some reason I had a hard time transitioning
to this quiet little town in Gray Ridge, Colorado.
If
it wasn’t for the tourists who pass through, I wouldn’t have any business at
all. Lucky for me there’s a national park nearby that keeps my little shop
busy. I’m just not sure how long it will last once the snow starts hitting the
mountains and the line of tourists slows down. I was told some of the roads get
shut down around here after the first snow. Maybe by then the people who live
here will start to warm to me. Otherwise it’s going to be a tight few months,
and I’ll have to pull more from my savings. As the holidays are fast
approaching, I’m hopeful everyone will need desserts.
It’s
coming close to the end of October, and I thought some festive Halloween treats
would be a good idea. When I mentioned it to Gwen, she jumped all over it,
wanting to make them herself. She always seems to want to stay here as much as
she can. I had a pile of paperwork to cover last night, so I gave her a shot at
the cookies on her own. I went upstairs to my little apartment/office over the
bakery and left her to it. This morning I’m seeing the error of my ways.
When
I hired her, I knew she didn’t have any experience, but she seemed eager to
learn. Whenever I made stuff, she watched my every move, absorbing all the
information she could. I had gone to culinary school and was more than happy to
teach her all my tricks. It’s been nice having someone to talk to who shares my
interests, but she still has a long way to go when it comes to culinary crafts.
“Okay,
we don’t have to serve these. What else did you make?”
Gwen
makes her way over to the cooler, pulling out more cookies. She walks back over
to me, putting down a huge tray of orange pumpkin cookies that read ‘EAT ME’ in
giant black lettering.
“Why
‘eat me’?” I ask, looking at the perfectly made pumpkins. Perfect other than
the message, of course.
“It’s
subliminal messaging to the customers.” She nods her head like she’s been
working in advertising and knows this is a selling secret. “People will just
have to buy the cookies and eat them because the cookie told them to.”
“Anything
else?” I cross my fingers behind my back, praying we might have something we’ll
be able to sell today. Now I’m not so sure if I want us to be busy today. I
need to whip up some usable cookies and Halloween treats on top of the normal
stuff I sell. That would keep me in the back all day with Gwen running the
counter by herself.
“I
did some cupcakes too.” She bounces back over to the cooler, her excitement
clear. Two seconds later she comes strolling out carrying a tray of cupcakes
all iced in green, black, white, and orange. The only problem is there seem to
be more cocks sticking out of the top of them.
“What
is this?” I point to what clearly looks like a dick on top of a cupcake. Not
that I’ve ever had experience with a real one, but I do have a Tumblr account.
“Those
are fingers. Don’t they look creepy-cool?” I can tell she’s excited about this.
I even fear she stayed extra late last night making them. Her face has a giant
smile pasted across it, and I can’t seem to bring myself to pop her bubble.
“They’re
great, Gwen.” I grab one of the trays, going to load it into one of the cases
up front. I plot where I can put them, thinking maybe I can hide them behind a
giant stack of Rice Krispie treats and some cakes or something. I could put
them on the bottom row, but kids would be at eye level with them then. I guess
I’ll have to put them on the top, and I cringe inwardly.
This
is not going to win me any favors with the locals who already avoid me. They
don’t seem too happy that I’ve taken over the town bakery. It’s the only reason
I have as to why so many turn and walk the other way when they see me. I
haven’t been in this town long enough to make anyone mad. You’d think I came
and stole the bakery or something the way everyone acts. I saw it for sale
online and made an offer, and if they didn’t like new people, maybe they
shouldn’t have put an online listing for the world to see!
The
site even showed you the paperwork of how successful the previous owner had
been and explained that the only reason it was for sale was because the owner
passed away, and the remaining family couldn’t run it. But business wasn’t
quite so booming now that I was running the place.
When
I saw this place I knew it would be perfect for me; a fresh start somewhere
new, and I could leave the sad memories behind. After my grandma passed, I was
all alone. She raised me after my parents died in a car accident when I was
five years old. After high school I’d gone to college, got a degree in
business, but couldn’t seem to settle into anything. The only time I ever felt
happy was when I went home to my grandma’s and when I was in her kitchen
baking. That’s when I knew I had to make baking my life if I wanted to be
happy.
My
grandma pushed me into culinary school, and sadly it wasn’t long after I
graduated that I lost her. After I closed her estate, I knew I wanted to open my
own bakery, and I searched for the prime place. When I stumbled across this
little town with this perfect little bakery, something about it drew me in.
When I stepped inside the first time, I knew this was the place; I felt like I
fit. It was almost as if the bakery was waiting for me, like my fate was here.
Pushing
through the door from the kitchen to the front, I set the tray on the counter
and start making coffee while I set up the display cases. Maybe I’m being too
hard on myself; I haven’t been here that long.
Gwen
follows behind me, and I see her go to the trays in the window of the store and
start placing treats on display there too. Shit.
Maybe
when we open I can send her on an errand and throw all of them out while she’s
gone. I could tell her they sold like crazy, but then she just might want to
make more. Double shit.
Finishing
our morning set up, I walk over to the window display and move things around a
little. Once everything is set, I flip the sign over from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’
and unlock the door. I head back behind the counter and watch as people pass by
the bakery, making their way to their own shops to open. A few people I don’t
recognize come in for a coffee, eyeing the Halloween cookies. I went ahead and
put the ‘broomsticks’ out too. Might as well if I’m doing the other ones. If
they don’t sell, I can always take them to the nursing home down the road like
I always do with my extras. Maybe they wouldn’t notice they looked like little
cocks.
“I
think I’ll run down to the hardware store later and get some Halloween
decorations. Add some festivity to the place. I know some of the kids will be
trick or treating up and down the street Saturday for Halloween. Maybe some of
them will drag their parents in or something if it looks festive.” I try to
sound excited, but Gwen just snorts, making her blonde hair bounce. You’d think
I’d be making a killing with her working the front counter considering how hot
she is. She eats more of the merchandise than I do, but I’m not sure where her
lean body puts it. Mine all goes to my hips and ass.
“Gwen,
you were born and raised here, right?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I’ve
heard her talk about her brother. She lives with him, and she constantly
complains that he doesn’t let her do anything. I actually think her applying
for this job was an act of rebellion. After seeing all the Halloween dirty
treats she made, I’m starting to think she’s sexually repressed. Not that I can
point fingers. I’m a twenty-four-year old virgin, and Gwen’s only three years younger
than me. But I wasn’t the one making cock treats.
“Yep,
born and raised,” she says, turning and leaning her hip against the counter
next to the register.
“Was
most everyone around here born and raised here?” The town seems so tightly
knit, like there’s this club I can’t seem to break into. It’s like I haven’t
performed some secret rite of passage yet or something. Every day I keep hoping
something will give; that it’s just a fluke people aren’t coming in yet. Maybe
they don’t know the bakery is back open, but I’m starting to think in a town
like this everyone knows everything about everyone.
She
shrugs her shoulders, and I can see her choosing her words carefully. “Most are
from here, but Alp— I mean, my brother, likes to welcome in strays from time to
time.”
“They
don’t seem too welcoming to me,” I mutter, not wanting to insult her brother.
Why would it be his job to do the welcoming? I hadn’t even met the man, and if
he’s some kind of welcoming committee for the town, then he sucks at it. I’ve
been here for three weeks, and I have no idea who he is.
“Well,
it will just take some time.” She leans in a little closer to me, and I hear
her sniff.
“Did
you just smell me?” Grabbing my shirt, I sniff myself thinking maybe I stink or
something, but all I smell is sugar. No matter how many showers I take I think
it’s ingrained from cooking sweets all the time.
“No,”
she says, stepping back from me like I asked her a crazy question when she's
the one sniffing me.
“You
like working here, Gwen?”
“I
love it! You’re not going to fire me because I smelled you, are you? I can
decorate the shop if you like. Halloween is in a few days, and I'll get it done
today. Or it is the treats? You hate them? I can do them over again. Just show
me how you like them. Please, you can’t fire me. No one else will hire me. My
brother won’t let them and…and—”
“Gwen.
Calm down,” I say, cutting her off from her rapid-fire rambling. “I’m not going
to fire you. I…it’s just…like a second ago when I made the suggestion about the
decorations, you snorted like, “no one is coming in here,” and, well, if no one
comes in here, neither of us will be working here.”
“Oh!”
She sighs like it’s no big deal, and I just stare at her, not understanding her
at all. “They’ll come after.”
“After?”
I wave my hand trying to encourage her to finish her sentence.
She
hesitates and then looks around the room. “After Sheriff Wolfe stops scaring
people away.” She says the words like I pried them from her using torture.
At
hearing his name, my eyes shoot to the front window to see if he’s loitering
outside my shop again. I thought cops drove around in their cop cars, eating
donuts, but the one here walks up and down Main Street all day, eating my
cookies and drinking my coffee. He stops in front of my bakery more than
anywhere else and glares in here like I’ve done something to offend him.
It
was his family who owned the bakery before I did, but I was told that he wanted
to sell it. The lawyers explained that he didn’t have the time to run it, which
I could understand if he was the sheriff. And no way could I see him running a
bakery. He’d eat himself out of house and home.
The
man was a jerk-face. A sexy, giant jerk-face who was my biggest customer, but
still a jerk-face, and he could barely form a sentence on the best of days. At
first I thought maybe he could only grunt and growl. But then I saw he didn’t
have a problem speaking to other people. I’d heard him talk to Gwen a few times
and everyone else, but with me it was like I was too much of a bother or
something. If he couldn’t stand me, why was he always hanging around all the
time? Why did he sell me the shop? It’s not like I twisted his big, hairy,
muscled arm or something. In fact, it was the opposite. I remember that day
like it was yesterday.
When
I came to see the place, I was so excited. I knew before I’d even got here I
was making an offer. The pictures online showed me it was everything I wanted.
The place was even decorated in my favorite color, red. All I'd have to do was
get a new sign.
I
was so excited to finally see it in person, but the first time I walked inside
all I saw was him. I thought he was sitting at a mini table in the bakery, but
it didn’t take me long to realize the table wasn’t mini. No, he just made it
look that way because he was so big.
I
stood mesmerized by him, my whole body coming alive. It was a feeling I’d never
felt before, like warmth washing over me. His big silver eyes grew bigger at
the sight of me. But then he stood from the table and stormed out of the bakery.
Just before he hit the door, he threw over his shoulder, “It’s hers.” He made
it clear he was done with me and the bakery. Or so I thought.
For
some reason it knocked the air out of my lungs when he dismissed me so easily.
I shouldn’t have been so taken aback by him. I wasn’t one to get noticed by
men. I’m short, chubby, and have curly red hair that I can barely control. It’s
why my parents named me Ruby. So having him all but ignore me shouldn’t have
hurt so much, but it did.
Then
I found out he’s the sheriff. I felt like he came in here to poke me, and now I
find out he’s keeping people away from the shop too. What’s this? Some scheme
he does or something? Sells the bakery, drives the bakery person out of
business and buys it back for dirt cheap, then does it all over again to
someone new? I can’t even report him because he’s the freaking sheriff.
Maybe
that’s it. That day he saw me, he knew I was an easy mark. Well, the next time
I see him I’m going to give him my two cents. Really give him something to
growl about.
About the author
I'm
Alexa Riley! Mom, wife, and business woman by day and smut writer by night. I
specialize in the Dirty Date Night reading. I wrote my first book, Owning Her
Innocence, because well, I just couldn't find any daddy books to my liking. So
I sat down and just started writing, bringing the fantasies I find myself often
dancing to in the dark of night to life, one page at a time.
Alexa
Riley is my alter ego. I can't let the other soccer moms know what I'm up to or
the guys at work for that matter. Little do they know that they've got nothing
on my dirty talk.
I'm here to give
you a quick fix of filthy dirty smut. Got a few hours to kill? Then I'm what
you're looking for.
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