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POKER BRAT
ISBN: 1-59279-553-6 (Electronic)
Publisher: Amber Quill Press
Read an excerpt here.
“I'm a huge fan of Texas Hold 'em and play in tournaments myself so I want to say a special thank you to Ms. Abalard for writing this delightful tale! This short story was a fast, fun read and the heat generated between Kat and CJ will have you getting out your playing cards – at least to fan yourself and cool off!” -- Kerin, Euro-Reviews
“Barrie Alabard crafted a light hearted battle of wits amongst the lively poker tables of Vegas, pitting two complimentary characters against one another. It was quite a pleasant game to watch unfold and the end results left me wondering who the loser was. 4 Angels!”-- Jessica, Fallen Angels Reviews
“Poker Brat proves to be a fast passed and engaging read … This is a book that is sure to entertain you.” -- Aggie Tsirikas, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
“Barrie Abalard's POKER BRAT is a short story full of heat (and not just the heat from Kat's stinging behind either!). Kat is a woman firmly in control of herself but desires the freedom to let go of her inhibitions. CJ is just as bold as Kat, but he keeps a tight rein on his heart, until she slips under his erected barriers, scaring the dickens out of him. This high stakes poker game involves more than just cash and a spanking, it's the start of an unexpected relationship between these two people who learn that there's pleasure to be found in the loss of control.” -- Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
“The sexual tension and the sex are hot in Poker Brat … If you are looking for a quick and hot read, with a little spanking, then pick up Poker Brat. Ms. Alabard will not disappoint you.” – Pam, A Romance Review
Excerpt from "Poker Brat" © 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
“So, CJ, you play poker much?” Her expression, she hoped, was innocent of her intended veiled insult.
CJ laced his hands behind his neck, smiling only with his mouth. “Yep. And I only play Hold 'Em, bein' from Texas and all that. Lubbock's my home town, though I live just down the road a bit these days.”
Just down the road a bit—a Vegas resident. Probably moved here to gamble full time. Damn, she'd never dated a real live gambler. Not that she was on a date.
“And how'd you earn your first stake?” she said, squirming now because, damn it all, it felt good when that center seam polished her panties. In fact, she was considering retiring to the ladies' room to remove her pesky, in-the-way undies so that the rubbing would feel even better.
Because, no way she was letting the cowboy into her pants. No...freakin'...way. So she'd have to settle for the strokes that the center seam of her pants produced when she wriggled just so...
“I know what you're doing.” His smirk made her face flush.
Damned Irish Catholic guilt, damned red hair and easy blush.
“What am I doing?” She squeezed several limes into her glass without meeting his eyes, willing her hips to stop wiggling.
“You're playin' hard to get. Honey, I'm easy.” His smirk morphed into a full-on leer. “Jes' thought you should know.”
“I'll just bet you are.” She dumped several packets of artificial sweetener into her water before stirring madly with the long-handled teaspoon. Ice and water slopped on the table.
“What the hell are you doing? Besides making a mess?”
“You never saw anyone make limeade before?” Kat met his eyes. They were so brown, so deep, deep brown, an odd combination with his sunburned face and streaked blond hair. And his lips, full, tempting. Mmm.
Better not look at them.
She dropped her gaze to his hands. His large, capable hands. Capable, she'd bet, of all kinds of delightful, controlling actions. Her secret desire filled her with desperate craving, turning her wet and ready.
Flushing again, she stared at her drink. Looking at ice seemed safe enough.
“I have a proposition,” he said.
The old, familiar come-on snapped her out of her sex-fogged thoughts. “I'll just bet you do,” she said, “and the answer is no.”
He raised his hands. God, but they were huge. And rough-looking, like tanned leather. She gulped the makeshift limeade to cool off her thoughts.
“It's not what you're thinking. It's a gambling proposition.”
Working at being casual, she added more lime to her water. “Spill it.”
“One poker hand for one thing only: if I win, I get to spank you until your sweet little fanny is bright red and stingin' like the dickens.”
Excerpt from "Poker Brat"© 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
Amber Quill Press
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