Page 1 of Wicked Wish (The Wicked Horse Vegas 2)

Foreword

So, I have a toddler.

A little girl.

And we read every night.

It’s my greatest hope that she inherits my love of reading. She doesn’t quite understand what Mommy does for a living, but she knows I write books. She’s pulled some from my shelf to look at my picture in the back.

Now, if you’ve read me widely, you know I write in a variety of sub-genres when it comes to romance. I’ve done new adult, rom-com, sports romance, straight-up contemporary romance, sweet romance, and, of course, I’ve done erotic romance.

If you’ve ready any of my Wicked Horse series, then you know this is my erotic series. You’ll also know that this series is not “erotica” as it sometimes gets referred to. The Wicked Horse books are romances with erotic sex scenes.

Why am I even mentioning this?

Because I do worry about how women who write this type of novel are perceived, and I worry about the perception of the women who read these works. Despite the many steps forward we’ve taken for women to be treated equally, it is somehow deemed wrong by the public for us to even consider reading *gasp* books with sex in them. Forget about it if they have erotic scenes.

I hate this for my daughter. Of course, she’s not allowed to read these types of books until she’s of age, but I don’t want her to be ashamed Mommy writes it, and when she’s an adult, I don’t want her to be ashamed to read it.

Sex is natural.

Sex is fun.

Sex can be thrilling, adventurous, and even scary sometimes when limits are pushed. The Wicked Horse books will make your eyebrows rise at times. You’ll probably blush and sometimes think, “Oh, people really do that type of thing?”

Why, yes, they do.

If you’re wondering if I’m writing from personal experience, I have to tell you I’m more well-read and researched than a practical-application kind of gal. Still, I find writing these books to be fun and liberating. They are a way to escape to another world, because that is the point of fiction.

But the books in my Wicked Horse series are about more than sex.

Far more than sex.

There are complex characters you will love and hate. Plots with twists you didn’t see coming. Scenes that may have you laughing, and yes… some that will have you sobbing. Those are all the moments you’ll remember most about these books (but you will enjoy the sex scenes, too). This is why my books are not erotica. They are not designed for titillation to be the sole purpose. If that happens, so be it, but these are realistic love stories with realistic people, and as such, they are true romances.

Bottom line… I hope you enjoy, and I hope you can do so in an open environment where you don’t have to be ashamed to enjoy sexy stories. In fact, feel free to open my book on your Kindle as you sit right next to someone on a plane, a train, or in the hair salon, and be proud that you enjoy reading these works.

I know I sure as hell enjoy bringing them to you.

Love,

Sawyer

CHAPTER 1

Walsh

“Walsh… buddy, good to see you,” Jerico Jameson says as I saunter into the Social Room of The Wicked Horse.

We shake hands with a strong familiarity born from sharing a woman in bed or a good scotch at the end of an evening. Of course, that was all PT, or pre-Trista. Since then, his cock only fucks his woman, but he’s comfortable enough in his relationship that he’ll fuck Trista at the Wicked Horse sometimes.

Not going to lie… I enjoy watching.

“Anything special going on tonight?” I ask as I survey the crowd. I always come in late, usually no earlier than eleven. If I wait any longer than that, though, everyone’s pretty much worn themselves out for the type of fucking I like.

The deviant, dirty, and often hard kind.

“Same old.” Jerico grins as he rattles the ice cubes in his glass as he casually leans against the bar. Unless Trista’s here with him, he usually doesn’t venture from either the Social Room or his office.

“I’ll make something good then.” With a laugh, I lift my chin to the bartender hovering nearby. He nods and turns to get me a bottled water. I don’t drink alcohol in here.

Ever.

Not because of any unpleasant experience, not because I don’t like the taste, and not because I’m against paying fifteen dollars for two fingers of house brand. Merely because I like feeling the things I do here with all of my senses.

Alcohol loosens inhibitions. However, if my inhibitions were any looser, I’d be having kinky sex in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard in broad daylight. I like sex, and I don’t need to rely on anything to get me in the mood.

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