Sizzling PR and Entangled Present: One Night With A Cowboy + Giveaway



Title: One Night with a Cowboy (Paint River Ranch)
Author: Elizabeth Otto
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: 258 pages
Release Date: May 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62266-329-3
Imprint: Indulgence

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One Night with a Cowboy:   AMZhttp://amzn.to/1noBfLB   B&Nhttp://bit.ly/1sa7sUz   Kobohttp://bit.ly/1l7r0Id


Blurb: One night is never enough…
Jobless, broke, and struggling to support herself and her invalid mother, paramedic Sophie Miller doesn’t have time or energy for a relationship. Especially with her mother’s clock ticking down. So when the sexy cowboy she meets at a carnival proposes a no-strings, one-night stand, she’s all over it. Until her one-night stand shows up again and turns out to be everything she’s ever wanted.
Tucker Haywood has his hands full running Paint River Ranch and trying to deal with all the changes pulling the rug out from under him. His past has taught him it’s better to keep women at arm’s length, for their sake. Stubborn and temperamental, Tucker doesn’t have a clue how to deal with a city girl who’s scared of squirrels and dirt.
So when Sophie gets under his skin, he has to do whatever it takes to push her away. Even if it means losing the part of himself he never thought he’d find.

My  Thoughts
One Night With A Cowboy may promise a fun a flirty romp in the hay...and boy does it deliver!
Look deeper however, and what you are fortunate to find is an emotionally charged read, that is sure to light fires of empathy and understanding, while still managing to keep passion's embers white-hot.

Sophie
While it is true that Sophie has a lot on her plate...
Sophie Miller proves time and time again that she is more than grown enough to handle a seat at the adult table.
Never one to back down from a challenge of any sort, Sophie lets her libido take the lead when she meets hunky Tucker Haywood at a town carnival.
The immediate chemistry between these two proves without a doubt, that one night will never be enough.
The fun in reading Sophie, is the fact that in spite of knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that all sane signs lead away from Tucker.  She is drown to him like a bee to honey.
 Sophie's family relationships and back story provide a wonderful emotional counter balance to the carnal whirlwind that the couple create.

Tucker
Tucker Haywood is a lot of things...but what he isn't, is ready to lay his hear bare in the presence of any woman.
Until Sophie...
There is just something about that little spitfire of a filly that this cowboy wants to put his brand on.
Tucker Haywood is the ultimate in male leads for the "wounded knight" lover.
The fact that he so wants to be there for Sophie, just makes you as the reader want it all the more for him.
He is a good man to his core and a steady hand in his lady's topsy-tirvy existence.

The Story
This is a "sweet heat" kind of romance.  The fire of the love scenes is tempered by the overall raw emotional content of both the characters and the plot.  So, in a sense, one could say that the nonsexual drama serves to contain and purpose the spicier element.
The character interaction between Tucker and Sophie starts off with a bang; only to revert to an almost tentative reintroduction later.
Readers are allowed to experience the "testing of the waters" phase of the relationship along with the pair, making for very engrossing but delightfully unpredictable story.
The end...sweet, romantic, and heart-stoppingly unforgettable.

This one sitting read is sure to show you why One Night With A Cowboy is never enough!



Excerpt from
One Night with a Cowboy
by Elizabeth Otto Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Otto. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
She was five-minus-two seconds away from throwing up. Grabbing the sides of the whirling carnival ride seat, Sophie Miller squeezed her eyes tight and dipped her head. She had no idea how her eight-year-old nephew Ethan talked her into getting on this contraption. A pile of puke in his lap was about to be the reward for his insistence.
Surrounded by tinny music, colorful flashing lights, and the smell of heavenly fried food, Sophie had been glad they’d come to the street carnival. She loved the noise and the smells and the crowd. It was the perfect way to spend her first night back in Montana in six months, giving her the opportunity to catch up with her sister, Carla, and Ethan, while relieving a little of the stress that had plagued her for the past several months.
And then Ethan had talked her into getting on the Scrambler, and suddenly the carnival wasn’t so fun.
A hard lump burned in her throat, and Sophie pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back nausea. Just when she thought she might lose it, the ride began to slow down. The milling crowd swirled and faded below her only to reappear again as their cart went round and round a little more slowly each time.
She tried to focus on the crowd below, hoping it would keep her lunch firmly in her stomach. A tall, broad-shouldered cowboy in a white hat and light blue shirt stood out from the mass of people surrounding him. The snippet of his face she could see as the cart whirled around became clearer on the next rotation when he looked up. He had a strong, square face and eyes that seemed to grab a hold of her even from the distance. A long body with narrow hips made a drool-worthy contrast to the broadness of his shoulders.
Mmm, nice. Not bad for a focal point.
Since people-watching seemed to be helping her nausea, she was more than willing to keep eyeballing the cowboy. There he was once, twice, three times as she went around and around. Living in the city as long as she had, Sophie had no real experience with country boys and the cowboy’s rugged hotness reminded her she really needed to make up for that. A one-nighter with a hot cowboy to remind her of the pleasures of life? Yes, please. Sophie admonished the thought with a grin and eye roll. That was the last thing she had time for right now, but as the thought skipped away, she realized her fear had, momentarily, lessened.
She found him in the crowd again and then, mercifully, as his image faded away once more, the ride stopped. Sophie’s brain jostled inside her skull as she closed her eyes to try and find equilibrium.
“Coming, Aunt Sophie?” Ethan grabbed her fingers as he opened the cart door and jumped down.
She paused as the metal ride jiggled under the weight of its disembarking riders. The entire world seemed unbalanced as the dizziness took hold, sort of like her life had been in general lately. The phone call she’d gotten from Carla three days ago, saying that their mother’s health was declining, had rocked Sophie more than losing her job as a paramedic a few months ago. The ride had given her a few terror-induced moments to forget why she’d really come to Montana, but that reprieve was short-lived.
Especially since standing right now seemed detrimental to her health and possibly everyone around her if her stomach let loose. She glanced around, looking for her hot-cowboy focal point, but he was gone. With a frown, she stepped down and sighed when she felt solid ground beneath her feet. A group of kids raced past her to climb onto the ride, and Sophie let out an amused breath. Twenty-nine and she still hadn’t conquered motion sickness. The fact that she hadn’t actually thrown up on Ethan, though, made her feel like maybe she finally had.
Take that, stomach! She mentally high-fived herself and unsteadily followed Ethan through the crowd. Ethan pulled her hand and urged her to walk faster. Sophie pulled back to rein him in a little—faster wasn’t going to happen.
“There’s mom.” He called out for her and waved to catch her attention. Sophie squinted, Ethan’s slight form suddenly fuzzy like a blotchy oil painting. Sounds rushed her ears, lights from the overhead poles were suddenly blinding. A cramp stabbed through her gut, making her dizzy. Six years of riding in the back of a speeding, bumping ambulance as a metro paramedic and she couldn’t handle one silly carnival ride? There was something seriously wrong with that little twist of irony.
Sophie made out her sister’s form and groaned, recognizing Carla’s trademark impatience despite the distance between them. Carla was waiting near the mini-doughnuts truck, one hand on her hip.
Sophie gave Ethan a half-hearted wave. “Go ahead. Tell your mom I’ll catch up. I just need to…” Ethan took off for his mom before she could finish. He knew better than to keep Carla waiting. Smart boy. Judging by Carla’s stance, Sophie considered motion sickness a good trade for a few minutes away from her controlling sister. There was a reason she and Carla lived thirteen hundred miles apart and in the few hours since they’d been reunited Sophie had been reminded why. Cats and dogs had nothing on their relationship.
A twisting knot of pain made her middle clench. Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, mindful of the people walking around her. She moved to the side where the crowd was thin and her foot caught on something hard and unyielding. Her body tilted backward, once again thrust into quick motion that sent her brain into a tailspin. Firm hands caught under her arms just before her butt hit the ground.
Instead of the dirt-meet-posterior slam she was expecting, she was lowered down gently. Her left hand instinctively reached out, grabbing onto the nearest object for support. Denim. Warm, soft, well-worn denim. Before she could register any more, a haze of stars exploded behind her eyes.
a Rafflecopter giveaway A deep chuckle and silky voice floated down as she lay on the ground.
“I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, but this was a little fast, don’t you think?”

This was turning into a helluva good day. Tucker Haywood flipped a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. When his client had wanted to meet here to let his kids run around while he and Tucker talked business, Tucker had initially resisted. It was a carnival—loud, flashy, and crowded. Everything he hated. He’d rather stay home at Paint River Ranch and hold the meeting in his office. But if going to the carnival meant selling a horse, he’d relent and collect a big, fat check for his trouble.
Now he had a beer in one hand and a pretty woman at his feet.
Go figure.
He’d noticed her on the ride, even chuckled at the comical grimace on her face while the boy sitting next to her had clapped and whooped as the contraption flew by. Tucker had almost walked away, but then he noticed her eyes latching onto him. Not just once, but each time the ride went ’round. Something about the stubborn, albeit nauseated, expression on her face made him hang around until she got off the ride. He wasn’t looking for a woman tonight, but it had been a while since he’d had a little female company, even if it was just for a drink and a laugh.
Noticing how green she looked just now, Tucker figured he’d be lucky to get that far. A white tube-top dress clung to full breasts and narrow waist, the hem stopping just above her toned legs that shone golden in the overhead light. A yellow string that peeked out from beneath the dress and tied around her neck promised a rocking bikini underneath. Light freckles dotted a straight nose and heart-shaped face. She was pretty, even with her eyes clenched tight and her full lips pinched white. It might even be worth getting puked on to find out a little more—especially if there was a bikini involved.
Tucker hunkered down next to her on one knee. “Hey, I was just kidding. You all right?”
She grimaced. “I’m dying.”
Tucker grinned. “You’re not dying.” He nudged her arm with his hand, her skin warm and silky to the touch. The ride next to them dotted her hair and dress with bright polka dots of multi-colored lights. “Can I help you up?”
Her eyes widened. “Are you crazy? I’m dying here!” The left side of her mouth tugged up in what might have been a smile trying to bloom. A zing of warmth shot straight through him. Pretty and feisty—a dangerous combination because he liked both.
He tipped his hat back and shrugged, giving in to the urge to tease her a little. “It was just a ride.”
She pulled her arm away from her face and pushed up on her elbows. Color seeped back into her skin. Thank goodness. But just when he thought she was on her way to recovery, a sudden frown clenched her face and she lay back down.
“That ride is the devil. I need some Zofran.” She flipped off the six-armed, silver Scrambler that swirled in a tangled mess of chairs and bodies. Tucker chuckled at the unexpected gesture. Dimples curved beautifully in her cheeks when she managed a small smile.
“Hear that?” He tilted his head toward the ride where shrieks and giggles rang out. “I think those four-year-olds are laughing at you.”
She groaned with a furious twist to her pretty lips. Well, look at that little hellcat, Tucker thought with an appreciative flutter in his stomach Yep, there it was. She riled up real nice, and dang if he didn’t like the fire in her eyes.
“See how well you do in the hot seat, cowboy.” She nodded toward the ride. “Go on.”
Tucker reached a hand out and to his surprise, she took it. Her fingers were soft and warm. She trembled just a little as he carefully guided her up and his thumb swept the back of her knuckles, her skin smooth, her nails daintily curved with white tips. Not the hands of a ranching woman, that’s for sure.
“I’m smart enough not to get on a ride like that,” he teased with a wink, watching her closely.
She pulled her hand away, cocked of her head, and smoothed the front of her dress. “Meaning?” she asked, swallowing hard and picking grass from her shoulder-length hair. Her hair was two-toned, the ends a few shades lighter than the rest, like they’d been dipped in light blond paint. He swept his gaze over the length of her, drinking in the bracelets dangling on her right wrist, the bright red polish on her toes, and the shiny little blue purse slung over her shoulder. Everything about her screamed city girl. Tourist, most likely. She was the complete opposite of the women he was usually attracted to, but it was there. Attraction—pure and insistent.
He flicked his toothpick. City girl or not, she had his attention. All of it.
He smiled wide. “Meaning, I’m smarter than you, apparently.”
Her arms crossed. “Are you smart enough to get lost before I punch your wise-ass mouth?” There was humor behind the challenge and, with just a little more ribbing; he might coax a full smile out of her. He liked spirited things for the most part: hard-to-handle horses, ornery cows, and the unpredictable Montana weather. It made life interesting and kept his restlessness in check.
He never was one to back down from a challenge.
“Honey, anything you want to do with my mouth is fine by me,” he drawled, giving her a once over that he wouldn’t have been able to avoid if he’d tried. Which he didn’t. She gave him a long, hard look before a slow smile tipped up her lips. His hand itched to touch her, run a thumb over that full lower lip. There’d be a million and one ways to set off fireworks with a woman like her. Tucker bit down on the toothpick and reined in the thoughts making his blood hot. Something in the crowd caught her attention—a woman standing with a young boy across the crowd gave a wave. She gave an encouraging wave back, in the kind of way that said she’d catch up later.
Turning back to him, her gaze roved over his chest and down his middle, pausing at his thighs before flicking back up to his face. Tucker heated under the intensity of her appraisal—not realizing he’d been holding his breath until his chest started to ache.
The woman couldn’t handle a carnival ride, but had no qualms giving him a blatant once-over. He was used to women looking his way—never had trouble finding a little company when the inclination arose. In the past few months, the female attention he usually craved left him unsatisfied and uninterested. Until right now. He’d been holed up at the ranch too long, and this silky, curvy, hot-tempered beauty had his interest by the balls, and then some.
“How about I buy you another drink?” she offered, tilting her head toward his beer. “That should keep your mouth busy for a while.” She smoothed one hand over the back of her hair.
Oh, yeah. Coming to the carnival had definitely been a good call.
Tucker put a hand on the small of her back. Sweet warmth met his fingers, driving him to draw his hand up the fabric of her dress to the bare skin of her shoulder blade. He paused for a fraction of a second to see if she’d shy away from his touch. She didn’t.
Tucker leaned close to her ear. The curve of her neck was delicate and beautiful, her skin radiated heat. Notes of coconut wafted from her hair.
His voice dipped low. “And when that’s gone? Then what?” He steered her away from the ride.
She leaned toward him, as if pulled by his touch or his voice—maybe, hopefully, both. A soft rise of goose bumps lit along her back, followed by a gentle shudder. The smile on her lips promised everything he told himself he wanted to avoid. No more complicated one-night stands. No more messy, near-miss relationships. He was alone for a reason, though the sultry sapphire color her eyes had become made him forget exactly why.
She bumped against his shoulder. The heat of her body seeped through the fabric of his shirt, giving him a hard internal tremble and driving home what he wanted.
Her. Under him.
She smiled sweetly, gripping his shirt hard. “Don’t worry, cowboy. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”




Chapter Two
When she’d left St. Paul, Minnesota two days ago, Sophie figured her fate in Missoula, Montana was pretty well pre-determined: be weighed down by guilt over her mother’s medical condition, and fight over a constant stream of stupid nothingness with her sister, Carla, as usual. Both proved true in the first hour she’d parked on Montana soil. She and Carla had never been particularly close; they were on opposite ends of the personality spectrum. When they combined, it usually resulted in a nuclear explosion.
Carla was never shy about reminding her how disappointed she was that Sophie didn’t come to Montana more to help with their mother. Sophie didn’t bother to remind her sister that she’d been working overtime in Minnesota in order to help pay for their mother’s medical bills, leftover credit card balances, and other expenses. Simply packing up and leaving her jobs hadn’t been feasible, but now that downsizing in the hospital system had robbed Sophie of her highest-paying gig, she wasn’t sure what to do. Her jobs had been her security, something she needed to function.
She’d had an interview at the Minneapolis Children’s Hospital for a unit coordinator position. If she landed that job, which would begin in a month, she was definitely going back. Something had to crop up soon. She’d used almost all of her savings to stay afloat after being let go.
Oh, life and its troubles. Thank goodness the hot cowboy next to her offered a very delectable distraction. She snuck him a look as they meandered up to the beer tent. The top of her head barely came to his chin and, if the impressive breadth of his shoulders and bulge of bicep under the pale blue shirt were any indication, the man was built hard. When he turned a little and gave her a perfect view of the strength of his back and tight ass, she had no doubt.
“What’ll ya have?” he glanced at her over his shoulder and Sophie’s insides melted a little. His slightly downturned eyes had a sleepy vibe, the irises an unusual swirl of dark emerald and blue. He flicked the toothpick over a pouty lower lip. His chin was pointed, nose straight with a blunt tip, his jaw strong and covered with a whisper of dark brown stubble. Self-doubt echoed inside her; he was tempting, and she really, really should be high-tailing it out of there. Her time in Montana would likely be short, and the last thing she needed was additional baggage when she returned to Minnesota. But when his brows raised, his lips curving into a crooked smile, it was a definite stay.
“Budweiser,” she managed. He gave an approving nod, turning around a few moments later with two full plastic cups.
“Cheers.” He raised his glass.
A chunk of mahogany hair peeked out from under his hat. Sophie’s mouth went dry. “To?”
“To you, for being the best part of my day.” He tapped his glass against hers. Sophie laughed behind a sip.
“Oh, you’re smooth.” She flicked a drip of foam off the lip of the cup. He tracked the movement, the light in his eyes getting darker. He took a sip from his glass, never taking his gaze from hers.
“Canadian.” He said pointedly.
Sophie frowned. “Hmmm?” She took another sip. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a beer. Wine was her usual, but she regretted that a little because the beer was foamy heaven on her tongue.
“Your accent sounds Canadian.”
“Nope. But I get that a lot.” His face displayed that his mind was working out other possibilities as they walked out of the tent area and into the melee of carnival-goers. Music blasted from a band on stage mixed with the varied tinkling jingles of the rides.
“Wisconsin!” he smiled, proud of himself. That smile was cocky and sexy as hell.
“Hate to disappoint you, cowboy, but no. One last guess.” Was she flirting? It had been so long since she’d engaged socially with a man, she’d almost forgotten how. Sophie took a shaky drink.
“Do I win a prize if I’m right?” Smoke filled his eyes, turning the green/blue to an earthy dark shade. She didn’t answer, just mentally rolled around in the sensual look on his rugged face. Sophie’s neck burst into tingles and, despite rubbing a palm there, the sensation didn’t go away.
He took another drink. “Minnesota.”
Sophie saluted him with her cup, barely able to catch her breath to form words. “Ding, ding. You win. Very good.”
He smiled around the toothpick. She tried to look away, but brain and body communication was having a small malfunction. Back home, men mostly came from one of three groups: businessman, college student, or hipster. There were a few other types scattered into the mix, but no cowboys. From the stark white hat, to the dark jeans and the polished silver belt buckle that shone in the light enough to give a girl glitter-envy, this man pulled off cowboy really well.
He bumped into her arm, sending fire through her body. Sophie stumbled, sloshing beer on the ground. One big hand wrapped around her upper arm to steady her. She smiled up at him, feeling silly and way too flustered. She’d never been one to shy away from men, but lately, a date or even a passing thought of a hook-up had been the farthest thing from her mind. Stress made some people find randy outlets, like too much sex or alcohol. Her? She holed up in her apartment and stared at the television. She preferred to be alone when she was crabby and stressed—just her and the occasional cheap bottle of Arbor Mist.
Little fingernails of panic streaked down her spine at the hard warmth of Tucker’s touch. There was something sublimely familiar about this cowboy, and it caused a little voice inside her to scream getback in the game, instead of run away, stupid. His fingers slid away from her skin, leaving a singed sensation behind. She rubbed her arm more to capture the sensation than to scrub it away. Sweet warmth spread in her lower belly as Tucker leaned down to her as if he was going to speak. Sophie moved a little closer to him in response. It wasn’t as if she’d come here looking for a man or a relationship. Hell no. She wasn’t staying in Montana…so a little closeness with Mr. Sex in Jeans wasn’t such a big deal, was it?
She was going with no.
“What’s your name? We kinda forgot that part.”
“Sophie.” She noticed how his right incisor jutted forward slightly, adding just enough sass to his otherwise perfect teeth. It jacked his cockiness through the roof. They passed a speaker blaring music and she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.
“Fifi?” His lips nearly touched her ear. The muscles in her legs turned pretty close to jelly at the near-contact. If what he’d said wasn’t so ridiculous, her body might have given in to the mush-effect and fallen in his arms. But she burst out with a laugh instead, shaking her head, as her body recovered.
“So-phie.”
That crooked smile got wider. He thrust out a hand, wrapped his fingers around her palm. “Tucker.”
Sophie groaned a little. Of course. A cowboy named Tucker who was hot as sin and probably an incredible eight-second ride. Wasn’t that the cliché? Living in the city her entire life meant she knew nothing about country boys, but she’d take cliché if it meant finding out how real it may or may not be. He looked the part so well, she was betting on real.
They rounded a curve of games, carnies calling out to them to try a few plays. “So about that prize.” Tucker’s eyes narrowed. Her gut flip-flopped.
“Prize?” Mmmm, her nerves were sparking at the thought of what a Tucker-prize might be.
“For guessing where you’re from.” He looked right at her mouth, moved in so the fabric of his shirt brushed against her breasts. Her nipples tightened in response. Sophie sucked in a breath and moved to take a step back, but never actually made it that far. The thoughts rolling around in her head were sinful. And tempting. And, by the sexy expression on Tucker’s face, highly possible.
“What did you have in mind?” She took a small sip to break the tension inside her. It didn’t work. Tucker stepped closer and took her chin in his hand. His thumb swept across the width of her mouth with a barely-there caress. The noise faded into a hazy blob, the lights tunneled into little polka dots around them. He stepped one breadth closer, leaving no question of his intention, his head dipping low. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t, really, but she was going to let him.
Oh yes, she was going to let him.
“Sophie!” Her sister’s irritated voice pulled Sophie back from the edge. She jerked away from Tucker as Carla nearly body-slammed them, pulling Ethan behind her. “I just called your cell.”
Before she could answer, Carla gave Tucker a distasteful once-over. “Hello.” She turned wide, accusing eyes on Sophie. Forcing her irritation down, Sophie wet her lips to keep from screaming. She wouldn’t make a scene in front of Tucker, no matter how much she might want to ram her fist in her sister’s face.
Funny how fast my sister can push my buttons.
“Sorry,” Sophie said neutrally. “I didn’t hear it over the noise.” She gave a small smile, but there was no diffusing Carla when she got like this.
“Sure,” Carla snapped. “You were busy.”
Sophie chose to ignore the juvenile whine in her sister’s voice. “Carla, I’m—“
“We’re leaving.”
Sophie rubbed her mouth with a hand, glancing at Tucker. He sipped his beer, watching the show with an inscrutable expression. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement. Sophie wanted to sink into the beer-soaked dirt and wave good-bye to the world. But as much as she knew she shouldn’t stay, she didn’t want to go. She needed some space after the long cross-country drive and the emotional flurry of the day. Whatever was going on between her and Tucker was alluring and warm and she needed that, too.
“I know my way. I’ll walk home later.” She’d been visiting this neighborhood three times a year for the past two years. Navigating her way back to Carla’s wasn’t a problem. Sophie squared her shoulders and faced Carla down. Her sister’s lips went rigid.
“Its fine, Carla.” She insisted. “Go ahead and take Ethan home.” Her sister shuffled a foot, maybe she stomped it. Sophie frowned in distaste. Despite being nearly forty, Carla was great at acting like a child.
“So-phie, you can’t go wandering around a strange city. You have no idea what might…”
Tucker cleared his throat and slid an arm around Sophie’s waist. She jumped at the unexpected contact, but found herself leaning into him. “I’ll make sure she gets home.” His voice was low and steady, the tone shocking in its finality. The protective edge to his tone unleashed a sensual longing deep in Sophie’s middle. Her shoulder pressed more firmly against Tucker’s side. Carla eyed them both, and then glanced at Ethan.
“Fine. But I’m locking the door. Keep your cell handy in case you need it.” She eyed Tucker pointedly before stomping off. Ethan glanced over his shoulder and waved. Sophie watched them disappear behind a row of tents.
Tucker let out a low whistle, tipping his hat back a little. “Your sister?” Sophie nodded.
Tucker gently gripped the fabric at her lower back. If her brain gave off any warning signals at all, Sophie didn’t hear them. A boon of danger sirens probably wouldn’t have done a thing. He had a comfortable ease that made him seem like a long-time friend.
“For your sake, I hope that’s your only sib—”
Sophie reached up on tiptoe, pulled the toothpick from his mouth and tossed it. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Author Bio
:
Elizabeth  OttoElizabeth Otto grew up in a Wisconsin town the size of a postage stamp, where riding your horse to the grocery store, and skinny dipping after school were perfectly acceptable. No surprise that she writes about small communities and country boys. She's the author of paranormal romance, and hot, emotional, contemporary romance, and has no guilt over frequently making her readers cry. When not writing, she works full-time as an Emergency Medical Technician for a rural ambulance service. Elizabeth lives with her very own country boy and their three children in, shockingly, a small Midwestern town.






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