Cowboy SEAL Homecoming by Nicole Helm

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Nicole Helm, who is celebrating yesterday’s release of her newest book, Cowboy SEAL Homecoming, the first book in her Navy SEAL Cowboys series. Enter the rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of Outlaw Cowboy.

Three former Navy SEALs
Injured in the line of duty
Desperate for a new beginning…
Searching for a place to call their own.

Alex Maguire never thought he’d go home again. The perfect soldier, the perfect leader, he’s spent his whole life running away from Blue Valley, Montana—but when a tragic accident bounces him and two of his men out of the SEALs, there’s nowhere left to turn but the ranch he used to call his own…and the confusing, innocently beguiling woman who now lives there.

Becca Denton’s like nothing he could have imagined. She’s far too tempting for her own good, but when she offers to help turn the ranch into a haven for injured veterans, he can’t exactly say no. He’ll just need to keep his distance. But something in her big green eyes makes Alex want to set aside the mantle of the perfect soldier and discover the man he could have been…safe and whole within the shelter of her arms.

The Prodigal SEAL has come home.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Alex remained frozen in place and Becca didn’t know how to let go of him. How to step away. Even when he’d ordered her not to kiss him, she didn’t know how to walk away.

Because he hadn’t answered her question. Not fully. If he’d only tell her that…that all he cared about was her well-being and safety. That this had nothing to do with the attraction she felt, then she would give this up. She would go back inside and sit with Mac and know that nothing with Alex was ever going to happen.

But he had to tell her. She needed to hear it from his lips to really be able to give it up.

He lifted the hand that had been hanging at his side and curled his long, blunt fingers around her elbow. He removed her arm from around him, but as he pulled her arm off and released her elbow, his fingers trailed—probably accidentally—down her forearm.

It jittered through her, like nerves and electrical shocks. Something swirling low in her stomach, sparks rioting in her chest.

His breath hitched, but his gaze didn’t meet hers as he pulled her other arm from around him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at. I don’t know what other reason there could be.”

But he didn’t look at her, which was so weird. Alex always looked her in the eye.

“You’re lying.” Which she hadn’t meant to say out loud, but it was such a surprise to see it. To read him so well and so easily. “You’re really bad at it.”

His gaze finally met hers, and that she couldn’t read, whatever war was going on in his dark depths.

“Maybe you think I’m lying because that’s what you want.”

Which was true, but there was too much lining up to her way of thinking. He’d brought up not sleeping together this morning. Jack’s words—as drunken as they might have been—the whole not looking her in the eye and shuddering when they touched.

“Okay, that is what I want.”

She could tell she’d surprised him. That he’d expected her denial or maybe her to stutter and scamper away, but she wasn’t going to do that. “I’m attracted to you. Yup. Not going to deny it. You’re hot. You’re a good person—such a good guy, even when you’re annoying the piss out of me. I feel comfortable around you in a way I don’t with a whole heck of a lot of people. So, yeah, I’m not going to stand here and try to deny it, because I am not a coward—but you are.”

The shock written all over his face sharpened. “Excuse me?” he said, dangerously calm.

Clearly the word coward got under his skin. But that’s what he was being. Hiding behind lies and whatever else. It was cowardly. She should know. She was always a coward when it came to people.

Well, not anymore.

“I said you’re a coward,” she replied, giving a shrug she wished felt a little more nonchalant. “You won’t admit you feel exactly the same way. Because you’re afraid. Or is that for my protection too?”

He took a deep breath, clearly trying to find some calm, but his eyes were furious and his jaw was so tight it was a wonder it didn’t crack in half. Everything about him vibrated with anger, and she felt powerful.

Her. Becca Denton. She felt in charge and right. Not a doubt or a second of uncertainty.

“A coward, huh?” he finally muttered through gritted teeth, one of his hands flexing into a fist and then open again.

“Yes. A big ole fraidy-cat over the fact that you’ve got some feelings for your much younger step—” But before she could get the remaining words out of her mouth, he used the front of her shirt to jerk her against the hard wall of his much larger body. She was too shocked to jump back or fend it off, and even though nerves slammed through her, well, she liked being this close. Not just hugging close, but pressing close.

Then his mouth crushed against hers, hard and unrelenting, and whatever powerful feeling she’d had evaporated on the spot. Incinerated completely. She didn’t even have time to think about how she didn’t know how to do this. His hands were in her hair, her hair, tangling and moving her head whichever darn way he pleased.

She grabbed for purchase, a little afraid her knees were wobbly, holding on for dear life. Letting his lips and tongue lead hers, guide hers.

It was fire and it was shock and it was good. It was good to be hollowed out and feel as though she was filled with liquid gold. Shimmering and lazy. To be pressed up against nothing but hard muscle and skilled mouth and know not a thing could touch her here.

Not a thing but him.

“Christ, we can’t do this,” he muttered, but it was against her mouth, his arms banded around her so that whether they could or not, they certainly were.

She wanted to keep doing it. Experiencing it. Participate instead of just letting it happen and soak it up—which was good, oh it was good, but she wanted more.

About the Author:She lives with her husband and two young sons in Missouri enjoying Cardinals baseball and dreams about someday owning a barn.

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So Wrong It Must Be Right by Nicole Helm – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding digital copies of all books on tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

It’s all fun and games until fantasy gets real . . .

At twenty-seven, Dinah Gallagher thought she’d have it all figured out. Instead, she’s having mind-blowing online sex with a man she knows nothing about and fighting for her rightful place in the family business. Part of that battle means expanding their century-old restaurant by getting the stubborn urban farmer next door to sell them his lot.

But Carter Trask is tired of being pushed around—especially by rich families like the Gallaghers. All he has left is the little farm he’s scratched out of his grandmother’s yard. At least he can blow off steam with the anonymous woman he’s been emailing for the past eight months, who makes his every sexual fantasy come alive—even if it’s only online.

When Dinah suddenly realizes that Carter’s gardens look just like some of her mystery man’s photos, she can’t resist trying to turn her dreams into reality. Against his better judgment, Carter joins in the game. But in real life, passion has a way of becoming very complicated, very quickly. And sometimes the wrong choice can turn out to be oh so right . . .

Enjoy an Excerpt

“You’re not still emailing with that guy!”

Dinah looked up from her phone and blinked at her cousin. It took a minute to get her bearings and remember that Kayla was waiting on her to get started.

“Actually I was reading up on Trask. I found an article that might explain his reluctance to sell.”

Kayla snatched Dinah’s phone away, then frowned at the screen. “It is sick that you get the same look on your face reading those pervy emails as you do reading stuff for work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dinah replied primly. Okay, maybe she did know what Kayla meant, and maybe it was a little sick, but Gallagher’s Tap Room was Dinah’s blood. The Gallagher family had moved to St. Louis over a century ago, and built a little pub on the very land beneath the concrete floor under her feet.

It was everything to her, and yeah, she got a little excited about that. Kayla gestured toward the back door and Dinah stood to follow. Meeting with Trask was going to be the moment she finally proved to Uncle Craig and the board she was ready to take over as director of operations.

Being Uncle Craig’s “special assistant” had turned out to mean little more than being his bitch, and while she’d worked to be the best damn bitch she could be, she was ready for tradition to take over. From the very beginning, the eldest Gallagher in every generation took over. These days, the title was director of operations, but it was all the same. And she was the eldest Gallagher of the eldest Gallagher.

She’d been told her whole life Gallagher’s would be hers when her father retired, or, as it turned out to be with Dad, abandoned everyone and everything in the pursuit of his midlife crisis.

It was time. Dinah was ready, and getting some crazy urban farmer to sell his land next to Gallagher’s for the expansion was going to be the final point in her favor. No one would be able to deny she was ready.

Director of operations was everything she’d been dreaming about since she was old enough to understand what the job required. Long after she’d understood what Gallagher’s meant to her family, and to her.

“So, you finally stopped emailing creepy Internet dude?”

Dinah walked with Kayla down the hallway to the back exit. “He’s not creepy.” The guy she’d randomly started emailing with, after she’d tipsily commented on his Tumblr page one night, wasn’t creepy. He was kind of amazing.


“I’m sorry. No way I’m giving that guy up. It’s some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”

Dinah thought wistfully about how he’d ended his last email. And when you’re at the point you don’t think you can come again, I’ll make sure that you do. It might be only through a computer, but it was far superior to anything any other guy had ever said to her.

“It’s fictional.”


“He’s probably like a sixty-year-old perv. Or a woman, if he’s really as good as you say he is.”

“As you pointed out, it’s fictional. Who cares?”

About the Author: Nicole Helm grew up with her nose in a book and a dream of becoming a writer. Luckily, after a few failed career choices, a husband, and two kids, she got to pursue that dream. Nicole writes down-to-earth contemporary romance. From farmers to cowboys, midwest to the west, she writes stories about people finding themselves and finding love in the process. When she’s not writing, she spends her time dreaming about someday owning a barn. She lives with her husband and two young sons in Missouri. She is slightly (okay, totally) addicted to Twitter (@nicolethelm), the St. Louis Cardinals, and someday owning a barn.

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