Can the Cobras get some LOVE?

Ya, I know, you guys love them and that's awesome! <g>

I just wanted to give any super fans one last chance to get in on the uber love! 

I try not to do super promoeyish posts too often, so to make it up to those not wanting to buy anything, here's a sexy gif I'm using to inspire me while working on Line Brawl. ;)

And for those really paying attention? There's a little teaser at the bottom of the page. ;)

Anyway, so first thing:

We've got the Cobra Roster shirt, only available for TWO more days! I did a bigger campaign to keep the price down, so we still need 2 more sold to reach minimum. 

I love doing these campaigns, because so many people ask for them, but I'm never sure which design I should put up. If there's one you'd like, or that you've seen and want me to do again, please let me know!

Click HERE to go grab the shirt! <3 

We also have some new playing cards if you're interested:

 Go HERE to see all the available options.

Last, but not least, I'll be taking down the print order packages before I head to Atlanta. If you can't make it to events, this is the best way to get signed copies of the books:

Check out the options HERE.

And here's your teaser! <g>

Don't read if you don't like spoilers

LINE BRAWL (The Dartmouth Cobras #8)

©Bianca Sommerland

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Bruiser.”

Ian took a deep breath. “Well, I mean, Sahara is hot. And doing girls has never been an issue, but without you there, I would have been thinking about how tough she’s had it. Maybe wanted to hug her instead of let her suck my dick. But you took over. I didn’t have to wonder if I was doing the right thing. I trusted you to know.”

Pisch’s eyes darkened as his lips slid into a slow, dangerous smile. Dangerous to Ian anyway, because it meant Pisch had figured him out. “Good. That was perfect, my man. I know what you need. Thank you for being so honest with me.”

Moving away from Ian, Pisch undid his belt. Slid it free of the loops and folded it in his hand.

All right, he better not be thinking of hitting me with that. Ian frowned. His lips parted.

Pisch pointed at a chair. “Sit, Bruiser.”

He’d used the same tone he might with a dog. And Ian obeyed before even questioning if it bothered him. The hard, wood chair dug into the back of his thighs as he sat forward.

“Lean back and relax, Bruiser. This isn’t a fight.” Pisch smoothed his hand over Ian’s hair. “You want this. Even if you only want it for me, you do want it.”

All the tension in Ian’s body evaporated as he leaned back. Put that way, yeah, he wanted it. He rested against the back of the chair.

“Very good. Hands behind you…no, Ian. On the other side of the chair.” Pisch’s light tone made the embarrassment irrelevant as Ian put his hands in a place that made sense. Clasped around the back of the chair. His chest swelled at Pisch’s low hum of approval. “Fuck, you’re hot like this.”