Wards of Women by Denise N. Wheatly!

They bought men from a prison to fulfill their every need. What could possibly go wrong with such a simple little purchase?

WARDS OF THE WOMEN introduces three desperate girlfriends who, on the surface, appear to have it all, but underneath are in the midst of various crises. Mysterious deaths, extortion, straying husbands and illegitimate children have suddenly overtaken the lives of Violet Christianson, Shayne Wentworth, and Fifi Gentry. Eventually, when Violet becomes fed up with all of their circumstances, she does what any sensible woman would do—blackmails the state prison warden into letting each of them buy an inmate from the jail for their own personal fulfillment. But never in their wildest dreams did they imagine all the chaos that would ensue from a simple little purchase…

EXCERPT:

Violet Christianson was a woman who knew what her name meant to most. Perfection. Everyone either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.

Violet considered herself to be the most beautiful woman on her block, and never missed an opportunity to ponder her stunning image. At five-eight, she kept her lean, size two figure draped in outrageously expensive designer clothing at all times. Her dazzling, widespread hazel eyes were framed with long, lush lashes. Her retroussé nose had finally been perfected after several invasive surgeries. Her soft, plump lips accentuated high cheekbones when they puckered. Her raven hair swung so low that she could practically sit on it.

Violet’s husband, Elliot, was rich. The richest man on the block, to be exact. Elliot worked as a real estate developer and closed more big-money deals than a little bit. As a result, he allowed her to spend his money on whatever she wanted, and whenever she wanted. As he should have, considering how unsightly he was. Elliot’s pockmarked skin, hair plugs, bifocaled eyes, rat-like teeth, pot belly, and squat body were enough to send most into hysterics the moment they laid eyes on him. But Elliot was wise enough to hide his ghastly appearance behind his vast fortune. So by the time people noticed his looks, they’d already been so blinded by his Benjamins that his ugliness became a blur. Which is exactly how he said he wanted it.

Violet’s house was big. The biggest house on her suburban block, to be exact. It boasted a huge great room, six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, an Olympic-size pool, and even a room designated just for gift wrapping. The house had been designed by Jacques Lolique, interior decorator to the stars, which meant that her contemporary décor was nothing short of flawless—as was the house’s appearance, which was constantly being serviced by a small army of workers.

To top it all off, Violet was smart. Smart enough to have earned a doctorate in psychiatry. But rather than open a high-end practice and service the rich and famous, she’d gone with her heart and decided to work with inmates at the local state prison.

Violet Christianson. Beautiful, lucky, and charitable. All the reasons why most people either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.

Buy Links:

eXtasy Books/Devine Destinies

Amazon

Denise N. Wheatley is a lover of romance, happy endings and the art of storytelling. She’s best known for her chick lit novel I WISH I NEVER MET YOU, which was published by Simon & Schuster in 2004. She has since traditionally published several novels and novellas, including contemporary, suspense and paranormal romance. She strives to creative characters who are strong, colorful and relatable, and tell entertaining stories that embody matters of the heart.

Denise received a B.A. in English from the University of Illinois at Chicago, the city where she was born and raised. She’s written screenplays and ghostwritten for some of your faves, and when she’s not sitting behind a computer, you can find her in a movie theater, on a tennis court, watching true crime television or chatting on social media.

Roping the Rancher

When Kit ropes the rancher, she’s in for the ride of her life.


Kit Morgan is Brokenhead’s sex therapist by day and
Dominatrix by night. While she never shies away from being
her true self, she rarely mixes business with pleasure until she
meets Greg Anderson, the owner of the only two horses in
this kinky two-horse town.
Submissive Greg longs to turn his ranch into a BDSM bed
and breakfast—a safe place to stay and play for those in the
kink lifestyle. He’s looking for a partner in life and business,
and he wonders if he’s found that in Kit.


Will they ride off into the sunset, or tie each other up in
knots?

Now available at eXtasy Books!

Enjoy this fun excerpt where Greg’s mother tricks him into attending therapy with her. Little does she know her “fix up” won’t work as this couple has already met!

EXCERPT:

“Yoo-hoo.” Trudy waved a hand in front of her face.
Kit blinked, noticing Trudy for the first time. “Hi,” she
repeated, then cleared her throat, attempting to return to a
more professional demeanour.
“Hey yourself,” Trudy said, stepping forward. “Greg
agreed to come with me today.”
“Indeed,” Kit murmured, extending her hand. “Nice to
meet you, Greg. Your mother has told me about you.”
“I’m sure she has.” Greg shook her hand briefly, then
dropped it like a hot potato. He brushed by her and walked
into the office.
As he passed by, she caught a whiff of his scent—a faint
odour of soap and hay. An outdoorsy combination she found
oddly intoxicating.
Trudy followed Greg inside, and Kit closed the door
behind them, then turned around only to find Greg staring at
her, his gaze piercing hers.
With her heart beating a mile a minute, she gestured
toward the couch. “Please sit down.”

Greg smiled and swept his arm to the side with a slight
bow. “Ladies first.”
Kit stood straight and walked with professional confidence
around the coffee table in the center of the office. Seating
herself in the plush chair where she always sat, she opened
her notebook and waited for mother and son to seat
themselves.
Trudy sat on the couch across from her. Greg plopped
down beside his mother and placed his hat in his lap.
“I notice you didn’t say she’s told you a lot about me,” Greg
stated without preamble.
Kit gestured between mother and son. “Well, according to
Trudy, the two of you don’t talk much, which would make it
difficult to tell me anything about you. And even if she did, I
keep everything in confidence.”
“Good to know.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and
the sexy smirk made her stomach quiver.
Kit felt her cheeks heat.
“You two going to get it on, or should we talk?” Trudy
interrupted.
Kit composed herself, then wagged a finger at Trudy. “You
asked for a session today to tell me all about your date this
past weekend. You could have given me a heads up that Greg
would be joining us today. I’ll have to charge you extra.”
Trudy waved a hand. “Girl, I could probably pay you in
cookies and you’d still see me.”
Kit shrugged. “Maybe, but chocolate chip cookies don’t
pay the mortgage. And there is such a thing as professional
courtesy.”
“Touché,” Trudy conceded. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it.”
“Would you mind explaining why?” Kit asked.
A small snort got Kit’s attention. Greg was staring at them
with an amused expression on his face. “What?”
“This.” Greg waggled a finger between her and Trudy.

“This is great. I haven’t met a woman who isn’t flustered by
my mother’s wit.”
Kit batted her eyelashes. “I am a professional.”
“You think I’m witty, son?” Trudy placed her hand over
her heart. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Kit nodded at Trudy. “You are one of a kind.”
Trudy narrowed her eyes. “Is that a compliment?”
Before Kit could answer, Greg clapped his hands together.
“All right. I’ve got a ranch to get back to, so perhaps we can
get this session going. Mom, what is it you wanted to talk to
me about and felt better with Kit here?”
Trudy glanced at her wrist. “Well, would you look at the
time? I need to get going.”
Kit frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?
You just got here, and besides, it’s your appointment.”
Greg heaved a sigh and folded his arms over his chest.
“Mom, you’re not even wearing a watch.”
Trudy scratched her wrist. “Huh… You’re right. It must be
my intuition telling me it’s time to leave.” She hiked her purse
onto her shoulder and stood. “You kids have a nice chat about
me, and we will discuss it next week.”
Surprised, Kit gaped as Trudy hurried from the office,
slamming the door behind her.
She turned to Greg. “What the hell just happened?”

Greg scratched at his head. “I don’t know. She told me she
wanted to discuss something with me, but she felt better
doing it at your office. Said she felt better with a professional
present.”
Kit muttered under her breath. “That woman will drive me
nuts one day…”
One of Greg’s eyebrows shot upward. “You’re talking
about my mother.”
Kit rolled her eyes. “As if you don’t know your own
mother.”

“You have a point.” He chuckled, lounging back into the
sofa, one arm on the backrest, long legs stretched out in front
of him. “There were times I thought she’d be the death of me.
Or I’d strangle her. But like you said—she is one of a kind.”
Kit swallowed hard, trying not to be affected by his sexy
sprawl on her couch. Moisture gathered in her pussy, and she
pressed her legs together, tugging down her skirt. “Well.” She
cleared her throat. “Your mom has paid in advance for this
session. Tell me how you’d like to proceed on her dime.”
“I find it incredibly hot that you don’t wear panties,” he
murmured.
She startled for a second, then zeroed in on him, her
Domme persona rising to the challenge. He needs to be taught a
lesson. Kit straightened her spine, intentionally thrusting out
her breasts and crossing one leg over the other slowly to give
Greg a good glimpse of what he wouldn’t be getting.
She noted Greg’s reaction to the red three-inch heels that
adorned her feet. She purposefully swung one leg for a
second, letting the moment drag out, and relished the way
Greg’s nostrils flared and his pupils dilated as he observed
her actions.
Kit stood, her feet shoulder-width apart, hands on hips,
and stared at him. Using her commanding voice, she said,
“Correction, slut. The proper response is, I find it incredibly
hot that you don’t wear panties, Mistress.”

eXtasy Books!