Since the turn of the twentieth century, people have been enthralled with the romance of Africa. From the striking beauty of the land to the wild and beautiful beasts roaming the vast territory, the Dark Continent has held mystery and allure.
When a long-legged blonde tomboy popped into my head, she whispered how she longed to be part of a profession typically reserved for men. When I took a closer look at her heart’s desires, I found where she truly belonged–in Africa.
Elle Bekker’s goal to become a professional hunter–or P.H.–is one few women have striven for, which is what makes her different. She’s strong-willed and has enough heart to guide hunters on their dream hunts for big game. But she’s also a bit stubborn.
To become certified in her field, she must take the elusive Cape buffalo. In Africa, this animal is known as ‘black death’ or ‘the widowmaker.’ Buffaloes claim over 200 lives per year in Africa–one of the top animals that kill. With two thousand pounds of pure volatility behind them, it’s no wonder they take so many lives.
I’ve never been to Africa, but through the stories of Robert Ruark and Peter Hathaway Capstick, I caught the essence of the surroundings, from the scents to the heat shimmering on the plains. The books written by these professional hunters served as inspiration to me. My husband is also an avid hunter, and I learn a lot about animals and the nature of hunters from him.
In WILDER, the best hunter in Africa, Peter Dumont, is called in to teach Elle all he knows. But when she feels a barrier brought on by his arrogance, she refuses to listen and follows a headstrong path of resistance. When he can take no more, he teachers her a lesson–by bending her over his knee and warming her round little ass!
Read on for an excerpt of WILDER, now available from Red Sage Publishing. Leave a comment! I’d love to hear from you!
In mystical South Africa, a determined woman fights to become accepted in one of the most challenging professions on the continent, but her sexy mentor must teach her discipline, both in mind and body.
Elle Bekker’s goal is to become certified as a professional hunter on her father’s African ranch. Her final challenge is to stalk and harvest the most dangerous and elusive game there is–Cape buffalo. When the ruggedly handsome and legendary Peter Dumont is brought in to train her, she finds his manner annoying, even as he believes her a spoiled know-it-all. Together they face the rigors of the landscape, wild beasts and poachers. But only after Peter teaches her a lesson with the flat of his hand on her round little ass does she simmer down and agree to let him guide her in her training–and in the ways of the heart.
“Here he comes.”
At her father’s excited words, Elle faced east and shielded her eyes from the blistering sun. The plane bobbed in the sky like a metal toy and whined as annoyingly as a Mozambique mosquito. She swatted one of the offenders now, squashing it on her sunburned upper arm. She flicked it away without removing her gaze from the approaching bush plane.
As it screamed toward earth, anticipation raged in her belly. Her father had hired a professional to guide hunters on safari at their exclusive lodge, and to act as her personal teacher so she could achieve her final papers. She was one dangerous hunt from being certified as a professional hunter, too.
But she was excited to meet this man in person for other reasons. For years, she’d had a crush on him. Though she’d never met him, his photos and stories appeared in several publications she frequently read. She had acquired a little collection of fanfare, as well as a nice compilation of fantasies.
She shook herself a little. He’s here to show you how to guide for Cape buffalo. Not introduce you to the intimate workings of his full lips.
What was she thinking? She wasn’t a girly girl–she didn’t wear dresses or tidy her hair. She wasn’t one to swoon over males. Besides, she had her sights set on that certificate. She didn’t have time for a relationship, and in the dangerous wilds of the Africa, there was no room for tender embraces or kisses, even if his lips were worth exploration.
Her father, Barnabas Bekker III, let out a whoop as the landing gear touched down. Elle coughed around a cloud of choking dust and squinted at the shiny vessel tearing to a stop. A group of Swahili tribesmen who worked for her father ran along behind, singing and chanting their welcome.
She peered through the waves of heat dancing over the golden savannah. The little bush plane wasn’t new, but had been well cared for. She wondered how it would feel to fly in it, soaring through the sapphire sky, just the two of them.
The dust began to settle and Elle focused on the man climbing from the cockpit. His rough boot appeared first, followed by a long muscular leg in safari shorts. Quickly, she drank in the lines of his body, comparing them to the photographs she’d seen. A chest as powerful as a beast’s, roped biceps and forearms. Thick neck with the glint of a lion’s claw worn on a leather thong.
Her breath caught when she reached his face. A grin broke over his features, cutting lines about the corners of his firm mouth and crinkling his eyes. He was deeply tanned from years spent under the African sun, and his hair had been bleached almost white.
Heart quickening, she waited for him to see her.
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