A new release from K.L. Ramsey.
On January 25, 2019 | 2 Comments

Amanda's BVS Book BLOG

A new release from K.L. Ramsey.  I have read the first four books in the new series, The Last First Kiss.  I have to say these are the hottest stories I have read by K.L. Ramsey. The first book, Theirs to Keep, is a really erotic romance.  The story is a smoking hot ménage à trois.  I just know you are going to love this whole series.  The first book is also available on Kindle Unlimited Now!


Two days prior


Regan Starr sat at the rest stop where she waited for her beat up phone to finish charging. She had been sitting in that same spot for over four hours now, wishing that she could will her ancient technology to hurry the hell up. Finally, her phone was at sixty-percent and she felt confident that using it wouldn’t slow down the charging process- too much. Besides, she was bored out of her fucking mind and she needed to find a job. She had forty-three dollars and twenty-nine cents to her name, and that wasn’t going to last her too much longer, even if she continued to sleep in her truck and eat sparingly, she was going to end up in a shelter or dead on the side of the highway.

Since leaving home, a little over a week ago, she had a few close run-ins, primarily with dirty old men who propositioned her with an offer of good sex and a few dollars to help her get by. When a local sheriff found her pickup truck parked under an overpass, so she could catch a few hours’ sleep, he offered to look past her being double parked on a highway, if she was willing to give him a blow-job. She opted for the fine and told him that she was going to report him. He just laughed and threw the wadded-up ticket at her and told her she had ten minutes to be gone, or he would be bringing a buddy back; even going as far as saying that his friend didn’t like to take no for an answer.

To say that her faith in humanity had been shaken, was an understatement- it had been downright destroyed. If her home life hadn’t been a nightmare, she would have been second-guessing her decision to leave, right about now.

Regan sifted through some advertisements that popped up on Craig’s list, most offering exactly what she had found on the road for employment opportunities. She typed in the keyword “cooks” and found two positions open. One was for a little diner, about two hours north of where she was, but she wasn’t going back. Her only option was to run as far south as she possibly could and pray to God that her step-father was too stupid to find her.

The second listing was for a rather large farm that was hiring someone who could cook. They hadn’t put down a preference for experience, but she decided to embellish a little, just to make sure she’d get the position. No one seemed to want to hire a twenty-two-year-old with minor experience, who was on the run from her step-dad. Not that she shared that information with anyone else, but that was her guess.

She filled out the attached file on her phone, which was no easy feat considering that half of her buttons didn’t work and added her profile pick from social media. She knew that it was a long shot, but she said a little prayer and sent the file back to the hiring manager’s attention.

Within minutes, her phone rang, someone named Ashton Travers wanted to meet with her in person about the job that she just applied for. Keeping her calm, she agreed to be there in a couple days’ time, explaining that she was traveling and would be in that area in about two days. He gave her the address, which she wrote in marker on her arm, and told her that he was looking forward to meeting her. All in all, he sounded nice. And, at this point, she could use a little nice. But, if not, she also knew how to take care of herself, she had been doing it most of her life.

Present Day


Regan pulled her old Chevy pickup up to the main farmhouse. The sign at the front gate told her to take the path to the very end of the road. She just hadn’t guessed that the end of the road was over eight miles down a gravel path and that the term ‘road’ was being used figuratively. Regan looked out her back window to check on her bike that she had chained down in the rusted bed of her pickup. When she started on her little trip south, she didn’t know if her truck would make the entire journey, plus there was no fucking way she was leaving her bike at her step-father’s. She was lucky to have escaped him once, if she had to go back to retrieve her motorcycle, she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be so lucky again.

When she high tailed it out of that run-down trailer park, her step-dad, Mike, threatened to beat her within an inch of her life if she ever thought of returning, and she believed him. It seemed that since her mom died, her dear old step-father’s favorite pastime was slapping her around. The day before she left, Regan made the mistake of telling him her plans. It was an honest oversight, she thought that he was in a good mood. Unfortunately for her, his happy disposition quickly soured. When she finally woke up, her head felt like someone took a sledgehammer to it, and her raven hair was matted to her face with dried blood. After she realized that Mike had probably made a beer run, she grabbed her back pack that contained all her worldly possessions besides her truck and bike, and ran. When he got back to the trailer and realized that she took off, he sent her the nasty text, telling her to stay gone, or else. That was just fine by her, she was done with that shit trailer park and done with her asshole step-father.

Her mom, Sarah, was her only family and when she died, Regan had no one. She had gotten used to being self-reliant from an early age. Before her mother married Mike, it was just the two of them. Her mom got by waitressing tables at the local dive diner and Regan would have to let herself into their little one-bedroom apartment after school. Her mom usually ended up working doubles and staying until closing, not getting home until long after Regan was asleep in the bed that they shared. She learned how to make herself dinner and finish her homework, not wanting to be a bother to her mom. She hated watching her mother work so hard for nothing and when her mom met Mike, Regan thought that their luck had changed. At first, he seemed like a decent guy. He would take Sarah out to dinner and even let Regan tag along as long as she took the hint and got lost after they returned home for the evening. She would pretend to be asleep, but she heard everything that went on out in the small living room of their apartment.

Her mom married Mike, and he moved them into his trailer and back then, it was like moving into the Ritz Carlton for Regan. Her mom didn’t have to work as much, and things were good for a few months until Mike lost his job. He had trouble finding anything and ended up spending most of his time and money at the local bar. Sarah had to go back to work full time at the diner, but this time, Regan wasn’t left alone. Her mother made sure that Mike made it home, most nights, before she went to work the graveyard shift at the diner. Good old Mike made sure that Regan followed the rules or there would be hell to pay and that usually came in the form of his belt or his fists. She was grateful in a way, it could have been much worse. She knew plenty of girls that were in the same situation, but instead of having a stepdad or stepbrother beat on them, they used them for sex. Regan cringed at the thought of having Mike climb on top of her and decided to leave the past back at that run-down trailer park. She was determined to move on to a better life and forget her old ghosts.

Regan had traveled over six-hundred miles to find a fresh start and she was going to make the best of it. She was lucky to have found the ad in a local paper for an estate hiring a cook. Regan had picked up shifts at the diner to help her mom when Sarah got sick. The cancer spread fast and after her mom was gone, Regan didn’t have the heart to quit working at the diner, so she stuck around. The owner, Pete, took pity on her and offered to teach her how to cook, telling her that she could write her own ticket if she learned to cook a few dishes. He made her promise not to go across town to his competition, and she agreed to work for him until she was ready to head out on her own. In just two years, Pete taught her everything that he knew about running a kitchen. She would never be able to repay him, but she promised to let him know where she landed when she got settled.

Regan got out of her ancient truck and stretched her muscles, aching from their long trip. She looked at the farmhouse and wondered just how many people lived in there. The house was the largest she had ever seen, and she had been to The White House when she was eleven on a school field trip. This house looked a lot like that, with its big white columns and the staircase leading up to the double glass front doors. She didn’t know much about the job, other than the ad said that she would be doing the cooking and some light housework. She could handle that, hell– she had been doing those things her whole life.

She pulled her backpack from the cab of her truck and slammed the old door shut. Regan craned her neck to take in the massive house as she made her way up the front steps. She suddenly felt completely out of place and thought about running back down to her truck before the two big doors swung open to reveal two of the sexiest men she had ever seen. She tried, really tried, to keep her mouth closed, but knew that she failed and stood there gawking at the two men with her tongue hanging out. Hell, she probably even drooled a little– very classy, Regan! She knew that she was staring, but she didn’t care. The man on her right smiled and stepped toward her and she leaned into him, extending her hand.

“Hello, I’m Regan Starr,” she stuttered.

His smile broadened, and she was mesmerized by how blue his eyes were. They were like the sky above the ocean on a clear summer day and she couldn’t stop looking into them. Actually, she was gazing and dammit, she had never gazed into any man’s eyes, ever. She blinked, trying to pull herself back to reality.

“I’m Ashton Travers, but please call me Ash and this is Jamison Black, my partner. Welcome to Travers Black Farm, Miss Starr.” He took her hand into his and Regan shivered. His warm, calloused skin rubbed against the palm of her hand and she could have sworn that she felt sparks. Ash took off his baseball hat and shook her hand, gently. She noticed how his overly long blond hair fell over one eye and she suddenly found herself wanting to run her fingers through it.

“Please call me Regan.” She retracted her hand from Ash and then offered it to Jamison. “Mr. Black, it’s nice to meet you.” He didn’t reach out to take her hand, just tipped his cowboy hat at her and turned to walk back into the house. She worried that she had done something wrong, or even offended him in some way, until he called her into their home.

“We don’t have all day, Miss Starr. Please follow me into the kitchen and we will go over our expectations,” he barked. His voice was very different from Ash’s. Jamison’s voice sounded growly and angry, like he walked around in a perpetual state of pissed off. She liked the way he seemed to be a take charge, no-nonsense, kind of guy. Ash seemed to be friendlier and even winked and smiled at her as she made her way past him to follow Jamison into the kitchen. He stopped in front of her, so abruptly, that she ran into the back of him with a yelp. Jamison turned to catch her by her elbow, keeping her upright and there were those same damn sparks that she felt when Ash touched her. What was that? It was probably just the long drive and being overly tired. She hadn’t slept much in the past few days. She had barely eaten and now that she was finally here, she felt bone tired and hungry.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Black. It’s been a long trip and I’m feeling a bit woozy from skipping lunch today.” She kept the part about missing breakfast this morning and dinner last night, to herself. No need advertising that she rolled into town without two nickels to rub together. The last bit of her money went to buying a tank of gas and she was pretty sure that she made it down their very long, gravel road on fumes.

Jamison looked her over as if making sure that she was alright. “You need to eat, Miss Starr. You’ll need to be able to keep up with all the cooking for the two of us and occasionally, some of our farm hands.” He eyed her suspiciously as if he didn’t believe that she was up for the task. His brown eyes didn’t seem to miss much, and when he turned to grab her a glass of water, she caught a glimpse of his brown curly hair, peeking out from under his hat.

“I need to know that we are not making a mistake, Miss Starr,” he growled. She jumped, startled by his question. She took a sip of water and placed her glass back onto the kitchen counter.

“I’m up for the job, Mr. Black.”

Ash chuckled behind her, taking in the whole scene and she turned to face him.

“Sorry about him, Regan. He can be somewhat grumpy at times, and a whole lot bossy. What he means to say is that we weren’t completely honest in our advertisement.” Regan knew that ad was too good to be true.

She groaned out loud and Ash gifted her with another smile. “What part were you not exactly honest about, Ash?” Jamison grabbed Regan’s arm and spun her around so fast that she lost her balance again, this time, she couldn’t seem to stay on her feet. Ash caught her and pulled her up his body before she hit the floor.

“What the fuck, Jamison? You heard her say that she was feeling a little lightheaded from skipping lunch. You can’t just go around grabbing her and taking what you want.” Regan had allowed herself to fall back into Ash’s hold and God it felt good to be touched like that. He had one arm wrapped around her middle and was holding her against his body. She could feel every inch of muscle through his shirt and she suddenly felt a little overheated. Regan wasn’t sure if she was going to pass out or be sick; neither seemed like an appealing trait in a cook. She tried to keep it together but knew that she was failing miserably when she heard Jamison’s curse.

“Fuck Ash, she’s looking a little green.” Ash turned her in his arms and that was the last thing she remembered before her world went completely black.


Ashton lifted their pretty new cook into his arms and started for the staircase that led up to the bedrooms on the second floor. Ash carried her into Jamison’s room, which was the first one at the top of the stairs and laid her across his king-sized bed. Dammit if she didn’t look completely right laying there in her cut-off jean shorts that were entirely too short for a job interview and a flannel shirt over her tank top that did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were just begging him to clamp down on one with his mouth and make her moan his name. His cock grew heavy just imagining how he could drive her crazy.

“Fuck, she has tats,” Ash growled, slipping off her flannel shirt, and he knew that his best friend was just as on edge about their new staff member as he was. Jamison watched as Ash traced the fairy tattoo on her left shoulder and then rolled her over to take a good look at the lotus flower, on her upper arm that she hid with her flannel shirt.

“Damn, I wonder if she has anymore hiding under her clothes?” Ash asked as they both looked her up and down as if trying to see through the skimpy outfit that she was wearing.

“Let’s stop examining our new employee’s tats and try to wake her up. She must have overheated in that flannel shirt. Didn’t you say that she is from up north?” Jamison went into his bathroom to retrieve a cold, wet washcloth to put on her forehead. What he really wanted to do was strip Regan naked and push her into a cold shower to wake her the hell up.

“Yeah,” Ash’s voice stuttered, as he watched Jamison run a second washcloth along her neck and chest. “That’s what she said when she called about the position.” Ash couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her and that had Jamison worried. Once Miss Starr found out that the job description entailed a little more than just cooking, he was pretty sure that she’d run all the way back up north. Hell, they’d be lucky to convince her to make them a peanut butter and jelly sandwich after they got done telling her exactly what they wanted to do with her.

Jamison thought that Ash was crazy for advertising that they needed a cook, they were doing just fine without one. But Ash convinced him that they needed to spend more time working the land and cattle and less time cooking and cleaning. A couple days back, Regan’s profile popped up on the job search website they were using. They both just about swallowed their tongues when they opened her picture that was attached to her application and saw the sexy little raven-haired woman staring back at them. She looked way too young to be a professional cook, but according to her application, she was twenty-five and had studied at a local culinary program in her hometown.

After they reviewed her application online, Ash called her cell number and convinced her to come out to the farm for an interview and two days later, here she was. As far as they were both concerned, she already had the job, but they were hoping that she would be so much more than just their cook. At thirty-eight, Jamison was tired of playing the field. He really didn’t like going out to the local bars with Ash, trying to pick up women. At only twenty-nine, his best friend seemed to have double the energy that he did. Women in town knew the score, they liked to share women. It wasn’t really a secret, they just seemed to find the same women attractive and instead of fighting over who would take her home, they agreed to share. The woman would always have a great time and they would both get what they needed from her. But that lifestyle was starting to wear them both down. Ash came up with the idea of luring Regan to their house, under the pretense of them just needing a cook, but if they both had their way, and she was willing, she would end up in their bed between the two of them.

He couldn’t explain why he agreed to Ash’s crazy-assed plan, but he did. It was as if her piercing blue eyes looked out from her profile picture and stole a piece of his soul. As soon as he saw that picture, he knew that she had to be theirs. He was just hoping that she would feel the same way when she learned what kind of kink turned them on, otherwise, they’d be out one cook and one hot as hell woman to share.

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Sara Zielinski Posted January 28, 2019 at6:29 pm   Reply

This sounds like a great book.

Amanda Ravenscroft Posted April 20, 2019 at10:10 am   Reply

Thank you, sorry to be a bit slow to respond. It is good of you to comment 🙂

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