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New Release from Karen Mercury: Three for All (MMF)

by on October 4, 2013

My good friend and fellow Sirenista, Karen Mercury, has a brand spanking new release today! Three for All is the third book in the Hell’s Delight series, and I asked Karen what inspired her characters for this story….


mullet (2)uncle-jesse (2)I called upon my 80s memory to conjure up some characters for this book.  Roscoe Flantz is the unfashionable stalker who has a “Bizmullet,” a mullet that is “business in the front, party in the back.”  He’s trying to pin the murder of the heroine’s husband on her.  Only, he makes a bunch of stumbling, bumbling mistakes along the way.   He leaves his “hair band” CD case behind, and he’s easily identified by his Bizmullet photo on the cover, for one thing.

“Hello? Is this the birdhouse delivery?”

Hannah gasped loudly when Roscoe Flantz stepped around the corner of the truck. She wanted to laugh out of nervousness, but oddly, he seemed dead serious. A hand in his windbreaker pocket seemed to be pointing a gun at her, but it could have been just his finger, and he cornily said, “Don’t move or talk, and no one gets hurt.”

Hannah sighed. “If you want that damned dinosaur, Roscoe, you’re going to have to wait one or two days.” She had ordered a duplicate off eBay and had planned to give him that version just to satisfy him and make him go away, and it hadn’t arrived yet. “And I don’t appreciate you telling my landlady you know me and breaking into my apartment and attic.”

“Who did that? I’m sorry to hear that, but it wasn’t me.”

“Oh, yeah? Who else would break into my attic just to get some Marshall Tucker tapes? And the landlady identified you from the CD case you brilliantly left in my car.”


I absolutely LOVE stumbling criminals who aren’t one step ahead of the law.   Those masterminds they depict on TV shows who are able to take out entire city blocks at one fell swoop—that’s not my guy.  My guys are utter morons.  The sort of guys you see pointing a finger at someone in a bank holdup, or breaking into an apartment just to steal some Lynryd Skynrd cassette tapes.

Yes, that’s my kind of criminal. The sort you lived down the street from, the sort you might have dated accidentally, one or two times.

The sort of bumbling fool you accidentally might’ve married.

Karen MercuryWidowed Hannah O’Loughlin can’t believe the two hottest men in Hell’s Delight seem to want her. Colt Gatling owns the Lay-Z-Boy Ranch that she tried unsuccessfully to buy. She should hate Colt, but is drawn to his powerful physique and dominant ways. And tattooed sex toy shop manager JD Harmon is a dangerous showstopper with his erotic gypsy eyes.

Hannah doesn’t want to burden JD and Colt with her old baggage. She needs to restore her reputation after her husband was murdered in Montana, but a whackjob with a bad mullet, Roscoe Flantz, is pinning the blame on her.

You can’t keep a good man down, and JD and Colt race to protect Hannah from the unfashionable stalker who insists that all he wants is her dead husband’s plastic dinosaur. JD and Colt are hell-bent to prove to Hannah that they love her, even with past baggage. They’re in it…Three for All.

Note: Each book in the Hell’s Delight series is stand-alone and can be read in any order.





The slave seemed flustered as she shook his hand. She’d pulled her veil up to hide her face below her eyes, but JD detected a definite blush rising on her cheeks. She was even prettier up close, her stick-straight blonde hair pulled into a genie ponytail that swished gently behind the lilac pillbox hat. With a shock JD realized that her hat, as well as her belly dancing sash that jingled with fake coins, was from his store. They carried some role playing items like that. JD tried not to look at her bra. It had been two years since he’d been attracted to another woman, and the possibility terrified him. “Hi. I’m Hannah O’Loughlin.”

“Hannah from Montana,” said Lila.

JD didn’t want to apologize to Hannah in front of Lila and Regina. Not letting go of her hand, he smoothly steered her away from the women, toward the stage where thankfully the band was taking a break. “I want to apologize for my partner, Colt.”

Hannah looked confused. “Colt? You mean the large cowboy I was just talking to? I thought his name was Don Gatling.”

Now JD was confused. “Colt Gatling. Muscular, buff—”

“Lila called him Dominating Don, I guess on account of how strong his personality is.”

A strong personality. Is that what it’s called? Heh. Oh, the days of innocence! “Well, that’s what I wanted to apologize for. My partner comes on a little strong sometimes. He’s really just a Dom with a teddy bear inside. I hope he didn’t offend or shock you.”

Hannah frowned. “There goes that ‘Don’ again. Is he some kind of cowboy mafia figure that I should be afraid of? I really don’t want any trouble.”

Somehow JD had wound up terrifying the poor girl instead of placating her. “No, not ‘Don.’ ‘Dom.’ You know, like a…” It suddenly occurred to him that she might be uneducated in the ways of BDSM. JD had seen plenty of customers like that in his store. Some were tourists stopping in on their way to Lake Tahoe or Reno, thinking they might enjoy the quaintness of the gold rush town. But sometimes even the residents of Last Chance would come up to JD and ask, “What’s this?” while holding a mop flogger or nipple clamps.

JD took a different tack now. “I’m thinking that he mistook your costume for being a serious statement about your submiss—about your slave personality. It was a simple case of mistaken identity. I really apologize for him. He can be a bit forward at times. He’s mafia only in his mind, but I’m afraid he’s just a simple cowboy.”

Hannah now took JD’s arm and drew him closer to the back wall behind a bank of speakers. “So he’s just simple, then? God, I’m so sorry. No wonder he thought I was really a slave. I sure hope he didn’t really think Casey Anthony was pole dancing, too.”

A wave of joy swept over JD to be standing this close to Hannah. He was so close he could lean forward a few inches to catch a whiff of her natural vanilla scent, and once again his prick plumped and lengthened. Hannah had a freshness, both in body and in spirit. Because she was so tanned, he guessed she did something outdoorsy like Colt. But was she really so naïve that she thought “Don” Gatling was a challenged cowboy who wanted to date a harem girl? Or was Colt’s approach with women so rusty that she hadn’t even gotten the picture? “No, he’s actually a pretty astute businessman. He owns the Lay-Z-Boy Ranch. Some of it borders this ranch. What did he say to you?”

Hannah’s jaw under the chiffon veil hung low. “He’s the owner of the Lay-Z-Boy? Oh, I thought he was a thug sent by their owner, Frank Garibaldi.”

“Garibaldi is Colt’s uncle. He decided not to sell but to deed it to Colt, since Colt is the only relative who has any enthusiasm about ranching.”

“I see…” Hannah seemed overly interested in this information. She looked aside and bit her lower lip, her eyes shining and brimming with ideas.

“I guess what I’m saying, Hannah, is…Colt has an interest in the world of bondage and discipline. Domination and submission. And if you didn’t already figure it out, he assumed you were a submissive. What I’m saying is, he was making a pass at you.”

Hannah’s eyes were round with wonder. “I see. That’s very…interesting. Now I really do feel like a dork. He invited me to something called a ‘munch’ and I thought he just didn’t know how to pronounce ‘lunch.’”

JD had to throw his head back and laugh fully at this. He couldn’t wait to give Colt a raft of shit for choosing such an innocent submissive.

Find Karen at




Thank you Karen for stopping by to share your new book!

As always readers, Live, Laugh, and Love like today is your only chance!~Lori

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  1. Hey Lori! Thanks for the great post–and helping me reminisce about those hairstyles I never want to see again! :):):)

    • I have to agree with you there, Karen. The Mullet is NOT something I want to see on the runways any time soon!

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