A special (though belated) Slow Ride Home treat

Slow Ride Home is on sale for 99 cents. 

But only until Saturday.

Then it goes back up to its regular price. (Which frankly is still a steal — under $3 for a full length almost 100,000 word book? You’re getting your money’s worth.)

Order SLOW RIDE HOME from Carina Press or from

Amazon.com ~ Amazon.co.uk ~ Amazon.ca

~Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ ARe or Google Play


My street team leader reminded me last week that I’d written a very short story of how Ben was planning on treating Allie on Valentine’s Day — and I had intended to put this up for Saturday’s post and…well, life interfered and I’d even forgotten I’d set up a post last month to autopost on Saturday…so mea culpa to Tabatha, I’m sorry I screwed up.  So here is the graphic she made me … to prove that Ben’s a guy you want to date, and they get their happy-ever-after…  But no, this scene is not in the book, it’s a belated Valentine’s day present to my readers.


Order SLOW RIDE HOME from Carina Press or from

Amazon.com ~ Amazon.co.uk ~ Amazon.ca

~Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ ARe or Google Play


Snippet Saturday – Cute Country Critters

My street team leader Tabatha knew I was having a stressful day the other day, so she linked me to a video that she thought would make me laugh. In SLOW RIDE HOME, Allie and Ben meet on the porch of Ben’s house, and Allie’s clothes end up staying there while they head inside…later when Allie remembers where she’s left them … well, I’ll let the scene tell you why this video made me chuckle…



Copyright © 2013 Leah Braemel

Ben rolled onto his side and reached up to untie her wrists. Once she was free, he lowered her arms and massaged the tender skin to encourage the circulation to return. “You all right, darling?”

“Slow Ride Home is one of those rare romance books that while you get romance and hot and oh so steamy sex, you get a complete story that keeps you hooked from beginning to end.” ~Slick Reads, Guilty Pleasures Reviews

“Mmm,” was the most she could manage. Her eyes had closed, the lids as heavy as if someone had taped them shut. The bed dipped and moved, and footsteps padded across the bare floor, then running water. Moments later, Ben returned and lay beside her.

Maybe he sensed she couldn’t move, because he half lifted her onto her side and snuggled her, spooning her.

As tired as she was, her brain whirled at what they’d just done, at the love and tenderness he’d shown her. At the wild side he’d brought out in her. She rubbed the rough spot on her wrist left by the rope. All those years of playing the good girl first for her father, and then for Lewis, had made her wonder if she’d ever let herself find such passion again. She’d been lost for a while and now she was starting to find herself again, accept who she was, what she wanted. All because of Ben.

“Shh, you’re thinkin’ too hard again,” he whispered, cuddling her closer.

Slow Ride Home, Book 1 of The Grady Legacy

He was right. She relaxed into his arms and let her mind drift. The light outside had faded when she finally opened her eyes, and the crickets’ song filled the silence. Well, them and the sound of Ben’s stomach growling.

“I need food.” His voice rumbled against her chest. “I can fire up the barbeque. Cook a steak?”

“You barbeque, and I’ll whip up a salad.”


After a lazy stretch, Allie plumped the pillows, enjoying watching Ben searching through his dresser, especially the way the moonlight highlighted his shoulders in its silvery light. Not to mention what it did to highlight his taut ass. He pulled out a fresh pair of briefs before wandering into the bathroom.

He emerged wearing the briefs, nothing else. Oh man, he’d just given her how many orgasms and just looking at him could still make her girly parts tingly?

“Can I borrow a T-shirt and some shorts or sweat pants? My clothes—well, your clothes—are still out on the porch.”

“Better go get ‘em. If they aren’t filled with spiders by the morning, there’s an armadillo who wanders up on the porch every night who might decide to burrow in them.”

“It’s a screened porch. How can an armadillo get in if the door is closed?” He had to be teasing. Didn’t he?

With no trace of amusement in his expression, Ben shrugged. “I have no idea, but he has some secret entrance I haven’t been able to find. Trust me. You leave your clothes out there and he’ll make a nest. Just ask Jake about the time he passed out on the porch a few years back.”



Order SLOW RIDE HOME from Carina Press or from

Amazon.com ~ Amazon.co.uk ~ Amazon.ca

~Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ ARe or Google Play

Or order it as an audiobook from Amazon or Audible. (though it won’t be 99 cents for the audio version)
Now I’m not recommending armadillos as a pet — apparently there are all sorts of disease issues, but these videos made me laugh…

Here’s an armadillo playing with a toy…

Do you think Allie would mind these guys playing in her clothes?

Slow Ride Home on Sale!


Slow Ride Home is on sale for 99 cents, but only until February 21st.




KindleIf you don’t already own it, here’s why you should spend a buck…

Slow Ride Home

Copyright © 2013 Leah Braemel

If someone had told Allie O’Keefe fifteen years ago that she’d set even one toe on Bull’s Hollow Ranch again, she’d have cussed them out. After she’d decked them. Which explained why Allie jammed her foot on the brake when she reached the ranch’s wrought-iron gate. Or maybe she stopped because of the man talking to a group of ranch hands in front of the ranch’s trailer office. It wasn’t just his weathered brown Stetson that stood out from the standard baseball caps the others wore. After a casual glance in her direction, he resumed talking.

Even from this far away she could tell who he was—Ben Grady, the first man she’d ever loved. Just as he had back in high school, he still managed to set butterflies fluttering in her stomach, although right now they felt more like boulders tumbling in a spin dryer.

Ben Grady was the quintessential cowboy, from the way he stood with his thumbs hooked through a belt loop, leaving his fingers to drum on the worn leather of his chaps, right down to his dust-covered boots. He could step back in the 1800s and live in the Wild West with no problems. The only thing missing was the six-shooter at his hip.

He hasn’t seen you yet. You could still turn around. Plead with her boss once again to have someone else assigned to the case. Although all her previous attempts had earned her was a “suck it up, buttercup” comment from her boss.

Two of his men strutted over to ATVs parked neatly in a row by the bar while the other took the reins of the bay horse. Finally freed of whatever responsibility had been keeping his attention, Ben faced her.

One look at that straight nose and angular jaw and bam, her body softened.

Not good, not good, not good, she repeated. You’re not eighteen years old anymore. And you didn’t do anything wrong.

Right. She could do this.

Taking a shaky breath, she parked her car beside the mud-crusted white pickup, its dual rear wheels dwarfing her small sedan. Tucking her case beneath her arm, she picked her way across the gravel-strewn yard. She really shouldn’t have worn her heels today, but her pride wanted to show off that she’d traded in her work boots for kick-ass stilettos that stopped traffic. Her not-so-subtle see what you missed out on statement. Which would be lost if she twisted her ankle.

His gaze locked on her, Ben leaned against the stair railing in his oh-so-casual way. When they’d dated, she’d loved how he’d stop to watch her approach. Now she felt like a gazelle being stalked by a lion. No, not such a proud animal. The Gradys were scavengers. Vultures, ready to pick the flesh from the bones of anyone who got in their way.

He’d filled out from the rangy teenager she’d known. He’d always been strong, but his muscles were more defined, the light cotton shirt tight across his chest and wide shoulders. His biceps bulged as he gripped the stair railing, hinting at the strength to lift and haul both hay bales and stray calves.

Recommended Read: Slow Ride Home kept me enthralled. I became completely invested in Ben and Allie’s story ~ ~ Lea Franczak, USA Today

Ben tipped his hat up with one finger and shot her a lazy grin that melted her a little inside. His gaze swept down her body, blazing a path even hotter than the sun, then returned to meet hers. The lines at the corners of his sky-blue eyes gave him a distinguished air.

“You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.”

His voice still had the low roughness that had driven her crazy, especially when they were lying skin-to-skin. Damn it, she’d gotten over him, so why was the ache in her chest back? She took a deep breath but the anguish didn’t ease.

Clutching her case tight under her arm, she stopped in front of him and shielded her eyes from the morning sun. “Hello, Ben.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Allie? What are you doing here?”

Her breath rushed out at the realization he hadn’t recognized her. If there’d been even a hint of friendliness to his voice, she might not have snapped, “I’m here to save your ass.”






And while I have your attention, don’t forget to pick up your copy of

Feeding the Flames while it is on sale for 99 cents too.

That’s two books for under two bucks!

Find all the links to buy Feeding the Flames here: http://leahbraemel.com/books/feeding-the-flames/