Unbridled Read online

  Unbridled

  Synopsis

  After a hard-fought battle to take control of her personal and professional life, mystery writer Lauren Everhart’s star is finally rising. She vows never to give up control of anything in her life until she meets her niece’s sexy horseback-riding instructor and signs up for her own private lessons, and more.

  Riding top horses on the show jumping circuit and igniting a woman’s desire are simply games of power, and Marsh Langston is a master player. Only this time, the flame she fans with Lauren Everhart burns too hot and so quickly it threatens to sear through Marsh’s impenetrable control.

  Praise for D. Jackson Leigh

  Blades of Bluegrass

  “Both lead characters, Britt and Teddy, were well developed and likeable. I also really enjoyed the supporting characters, like E.B., and the warm, familiar atmosphere the author managed to create at Story Hill Farm.”—Melina Bickard, Librarian, Waterloo Library (UK)

  Ordinary Is Perfect

  “There’s something incredibly charming about this small town romance, which features a vet with PTSD and a workaholic marketing guru as a fish out of water in the quiet town. But it’s the details of this novel that make it shine.”—Pink Heart Society

  Take a Chance

  “I really enjoyed the character dynamic with this book of two very strong independent women who aren’t looking for love but fall for the one they already love…The chemistry and dynamic between these two is fantastic and becomes even more intense when their sexual desires take over.”—Les Rêveur

  Dragon Horse War

  “Leigh writes with an emotion that she in turn gives to the characters, allowing us insight into their personalities and their very souls. Filled with fantastic imagery and the down-to-earth flaws that are sometimes the characters’ greatest strengths, this first Dragon Horse War is a story not to be missed. The writing is flawless, the story, breath-taking—and this is only the beginning.”—Lambda Literary Review

  “The premise is original, the fantasy element is gripping but relevant to our times, the characters come to life, and the writing is phenomenal. It’s the author’s best work to date and I could not put it down.”—Melina Bickard, Librarian, Waterloo Library (UK)

  “Already an accomplished author of many romances, Leigh takes on fantasy and comes up aces…So, even if fantasy isn’t quite your thing, you should give this a try. Leigh’s backdrop is a world you already recognize with some slight differences, and the characters are marvelous. There’s a villain, a love story, and…ah yes, ‘thar be dragons.’”—Out in Print: Queer Book Reviews

  Swelter

  “I don’t think there is a single book D. Jackson Leigh has written that I don’t like…I recommend this book if you want a nice romance mixed with a little suspense.”—Kris Johnson, Texas Library Association

  “This book is a great mix of romance, action, angst, and emotional drama…The first half of the book focuses on the budding relationship between the two women, and the gradual revealing of secrets. The second half ramps up the action side of things…There were some good sexy scenes, and also an appropriate amount of angst and introspection by both women as feelings more than just the physical started to surface.”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  Call Me Softly

  “Call Me Softly is a thrilling and enthralling novel of love, lies, intrigue, and Southern charm.”—Bibliophilic Book Blog

  Touch Me Gently

  “D. Jackson Leigh understands the value of branding, and delivers more of the familiar and welcome story elements that set her novels apart from other authors in the romance genre.”—Rainbow Reader

  Every Second Counts

  “Her prose is clean, lean, and mean—elegantly descriptive.”—Out in Print: Queer Book Reviews

  Riding Passion

  “The sex was always hot and the relationships were realistic, each with their difficulties. The technical writing style was impeccable, ranging from poetic to more straightforward and simple. The entire anthology was a demonstration of Leigh’s considerable abilities.”—2015 Rainbow Awards

  Unbridled

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  By the Author

  Romance

  Call Me Softly

  Touch Me Gently

  Hold Me Forever

  Swelter

  Take a Chance

  Ordinary Is Perfect

  Blades of Bluegrass

  Unbridled

  Cherokee Falls Series

  Bareback

  Long Shot

  Every Second Counts

  Dragon Horse War Trilogy

  The Calling

  Tracker and the Spy

  Seer and the Shield

  Short Story Collection

  Riding Passion

  Unbridled

  © 2021 By D. Jackson Leigh. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-848-7

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: July 2021

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Tammy Seidick

  eBook Design by Toni Whitaker

  Acknowledgments

  When questioned about another record-breaking milestone in her career, Stanford University Hall of Fame women’s basketball coach Tara VanDerveer quoted her late father, who said, “You don’t win the Kentucky Derby on donkeys.”

  I’m always conscious that my success as an author rides on the Thoroughbreds that surround and support me.

  Dr. Shelley Thrasher has edited all but the first of the fifteen books I’ve published with Bold Strokes Books, I completely trust her gentle but incisive edits. She has become my teacher, my coach, and my friend. Thanks, Shelley, for being understanding when I needed more time, and so patient with my first attempt at writing a full-length novel in first person.

  Also, I have to give a shout out to my writing sister, VK Powell. She’s my brainstorming buddy and my go-to person when I’m stuck and can’t see where to take the story next. Best of all, she never flinches when I ask her to beta-read a manuscript in two days. I hope I do the same for her.

  Finally, I’ll be forever grateful to Radclyffe for going after her dream of establishing a publishing house for LGBTQIA writers, and to BSB senior editor Sandy Lowe for her incredible organizational skills and hard work that keep the herd of BSB authors on track. Bold Strokes is about improving our craft, telling great stories, and being a big supportive family.

  I love all of you guys.

  For all the sexy ladies still searching for someone they can trust with their most secret, whispered desires.

  Chapter One

  I’m sure everyone tells you this, but I love this book. My entire book club loved it.” The twenty-something woman’s slender shoulders move gracefully under a thin V-neck sweater as she bends forward t
o place a newly purchased hardback of my latest mystery novel on the table for me to sign. While some lesbians, like men, are attracted to breasts, I drool over well-formed shoulders. I don’t have a specific preference for thin, broad, slender, or muscular. But something makes me want to rub my cheek along some collarbones, nip some earlobes, lick some necks, and bite the trapezius—the muscle that runs from the neck along the top of the shoulder—of some women.

  “Thank you.” I give her my warmest smile, not the polite one I’d presented to the hundred or so people before her. She nervously tucks a few silky, blond strands behind one ear as I hold her gaze captive. “I’m delighted you enjoyed it. Should I sign this copy to someone or just write my name? Some people only want my signature so they can resell the book later on an internet marketplace.” Pen hovering over the page, I’m pleased that her face transforms into genuine shock.

  “Oh, no. I would never sell a signed copy of your books.” The young woman flushes pink. “I mean, I have it already on my eReader, but I also collect hardbacks of my favorite authors…especially if I’m able to get them autographed.”

  I tilt my head, lift one eyebrow, and give her my flirty smile—stolen from a flirty Brit who once seduced me and perfected in my bathroom mirror. “I’m one of your favorites, then?”

  “Yes.” As if realizing she’s gone all fangirl on me, she drops her chin and shakes her head. “Yes, you’re one of my favorite authors. I love mystery stories, but I enjoy yours more because you write strong women characters instead of handsome male characters who have women throwing themselves at them or crusty old guys who look at women like pieces of meat on a rotisserie. Plus, some of your clues are so small that I miss them until they’re revealed later in the book. So, when my club reads a new book of yours, we all try to pick out clues and write them down as we read, then compare who found the most when we all finish.”

  A new marketing idea was already forming in my mind. For now, though, I’d just use that idea as a reason to write off the expense of an even better idea—her, me, wine, dinner, and maybe some after-dinner delight. “Well, that sounds like the kind of book club I’d like to visit, Ms…” I let the sentence dangle for her to complete.

  “Anna. I’m Anna Pierson.” She holds out her hand, and I lay my pen down to take it in mine. Her fingers are warm but not damp, as I expect, considering her initial nervousness. “And you can sign the book to me.”

  I give her hand a slight squeeze before releasing it to take up my pen again. I pause a long second, then scribble with a flourish.

  Anna, it was so lovely to meet you. I’m hoping to uncover more mysteries with you. Have dinner with me tonight?

  Your favorite author,

  Lauren Everhart

  I’m about to hand the book back to Anna, open so she’ll hopefully read what I’ve written, when the store clerk who is assigned to assist me begins to noisily remove the display of books from my table. I lean to one side to peer around Anna, surprised that the line behind her has moved to the register. I look at Anna, who shrugs and stares pointedly at the store clerk.

  Keeping possession of Anna’s book to ensure she won’t leave, I squint at the clerk’s name tag and clear my throat. “Uh, Justin, is it? I really could use that mug of Earl Grey, two teaspoons of honey, please, that I requested earlier.”

  He frowns. “I’m not sure we have any, and I’m afraid it’s too late because we’re closing the store.”

  Anna reaches for her book. “I should go before I get locked in.”

  I place it on the table, then hold up one finger for Anna to wait before turning back to Justin. “I’m sure you do have tea and honey, because it’s in my contract. My agent, not to mention this store’s owner, will be very upset if they find out you haven’t honored that agreement.”

  Justin slaps his hands against his hips and rolls his eyes in typical juvenile fashion. “It’s a mug of tea.” He reaches for his wallet and digs out a fiver that he holds out to me. “Starbucks is to the left, two doors down. Please, have a venti tea on me.”

  My thumb is hitting speed dial as I stand up from my chair and tower at least three inches over him. I switch to speaker when the call connects and a disembodied woman’s voice begins talking.

  “Hey, I’m ten minutes away. You ready for dinner?”

  I clear my dry throat again. I really am hoarse. “I’m hungry, but my throat’s pretty dry and sore from selling books all afternoon. Justin doesn’t think you have any tea and honey.”

  “What? That little…”

  I quickly tap the phone to take it off speaker. I love the person behind that voice, but she suffers from potty mouth when she’s angry, and Justin is turning pale. “Did I forget to mention that the store’s owner, your aunt, and I are old friends?”

  “I’ll go get that tea for you.” Justin darts past Anna and runs for the staff room at the back of the store.

  I turn to Anna, who is covering a smile with her hand, and speak into the phone. “Sal, honey, calm down. Yes, I know he’s your nephew. I’m sure you’ll explain to him about contracts and consequences. Don’t fire him. If you don’t teach him to respect women and men equally, who will? He at least offered to pay when he told me to go next door to Starbucks to get my own tea.” I immediately hold the phone away from my head so Sal’s response won’t scorch my ear. “See you in ten,” I say, then end the call while Sal’s diatribe is still at full volume. “Sorry. I just don’t have much patience with arrogant males, especially those half my age. So, I couldn’t resist having a little fun.”

  I sink back into my chair and notice Anna has retrieved her book. Her long-fingered hands with manicured nails clutch it to her chest. Mmm, mmm, mmm. I should tell Justin to stir a shot of Fireball in that tea instead of honey. Then maybe I can persuade Anna to put down that book and clutch me to her chest instead.

  I’m about to ask if she read the inscription I wrote when a high cackle comes from the checkout counter at the front of the store, where an older lady is ringing out the day’s sales. “LaSalle is going to take that boy to the woodshed for sure.” Another cackle of laughter. “His face when her voice came from your phone…I thought he was going to wet his nappies. I think I have wet mine a little from laughing so hard.”

  Okay. That’s more information than we need, but Anna’s chuckling along with her. “I can’t believe the little shit offered you money to go get your own tea. He’s nobody, and you’re best-selling author Lauren Everhart,” she said.

  Anna is a lot more relaxed than she was twenty minutes ago, but I need to make myself a little less godlike in her eyes if I want the evening to go forward as I hope. I want her naked skin against mine before the night ends, but only if she truly desires me. Not because of my minor fame.

  “Best-selling is a term with a lot of qualifiers,” I say. “It has little meaning if you’re talking about Amazon, which is totally skewed by Amazon Unlimited. And it’s measured differently depending if you’re talking about the New York Times list or the USA Today list or Publishers Weekly. And you can’t count just books sold, or else the best-sellers list would consist of nothing but the top-selling romances, because that genre sells way more than any other. But that’s a long discussion for another time.”

  Justin appears with a tray that holds a steaming mug of tea, several napkins, a spoon, and a squeeze bottle of honey. “I stirred in two spoons of honey but brought the bottle in case you wanted more. Is there anything else?”

  I look to Anna. “Are you in a hurry? Can you chat for a few minutes?”

  An expression of delight illuminates her lovely features. Okay. She obviously hasn’t read my question in the inscription. “Yes. I mean no.” She shakes her head. “I’m not in a hurry, and I’d love to chat.”

  “Justin, can you find a chair for Anna?”

  For a second, I think he’s going to bow as he backs away, but he nods and trots back t
o the employees’ break room.

  “I love the chance to talk to readers to find out what in my books speaks to them. What compels them to like my characters and my stories.” I pause when Justin reappears with a chair.

  “Thank you,” Anna says softly.

  “I need to run the vacuum…so I’ll be back there if you need anything else.” He points to the very rear corner of the store.

  “Thank you, Justin. That’s a good idea,” I say. “Because I’m very hungry, I’m going to run interference so Sal doesn’t chew you to pieces right away and delay my dinner.”

  He nods. “Great. Thanks. I’m sorry. Really. I was an ass, Ms. Everhart.”

  “Yes, you were. Now go vacuum.”

  We watch him disappear and wave good night to the cashier with the confessed soggy underwear. Hopefully, she’s wearing special panties to absorb those little accidents that plague women as they grow older.

  “So, I’m interested in how many of your book-club members had the plot figured out before the end of my whodunit.” I lay my forearms on the table to shorten the distance between us and lower my voice. Justin starts the vacuum cleaner, and she moves closer to hear me over the noise. Thank you, Justin. I have to make hay while I can because Sal will arrive at any minute.

  Anna purses her lush lips, then wrinkles her nose. “Before we get into that, can I ask you something personal?”

  Ah. She’s feeling the attraction, too. I smile and nod. “You can ask me anything.”

  She points to my hands. “Do you have a problem with your right hand?”

  I stare at her. I’m not expecting that question. “My hand?”

  Uncertainty flashes across her face, and then her jaw sets and her shoulders straighten. “Yes. You’re probably not aware of it, but you’ve been rubbing it off and on since you signed the book for me.”