Carnal Harvest

By Robin L. Rotham

Thanks to his spectacular ATV crash and lengthy convalescence, Hake Stivers missed out on a lot this fall—harvesting his crops, caring for his cattle, and most of all, giving his kinky little wife the kind of loving she deserves.

In an effort to ease his feelings of inadequacy and reward Mandy for helping out with chores, Hake asks his cousin Brent for a daring favor. Later that day, Brent and his friend Joe show up to fulfill Mandy’s edgiest submission fantasies while Hake watches from the sidelines.

But someone knows the truth—it’s not Mandy but Hake who needs to have his control stripped away, and that someone is determined to see that Hake gets exactly what he needs...whether he’s ready or not.

Reader Advisory: This one made Robin’s editors blush so you may not want to read it in public. Contains m/m/m/f ménage, voyeurism, mild bondage, spanking and a home-invasion role-playing scene that’ll make you squirm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robin L. Rotham
• Release date: Jan 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370749584

Robin L. Rotham

When I complained of being bored the summer before 7th grade, my mother (who worked at a boookstore at the time) handed me a stripped copy of Victoria Holt's The Shivering Sands--and I was hooked. I became a voracious reader and an aspiring author, bringing home stacks of books from the library every single week. The next year, I did a school report on Ms. Holt and wrote to her asking for information. In reply, she sent me an autographed photo and a lovely two-page hand-written letter in which she encouraged me to follow my writing dreams. Sadly, both the photo and the letter were lost over many moves, but my writing dreams remained. At 14, I tried to write my first two romances. The first was about a federal agent masquerading as a bank robber, and a smart-mouthed customer who drove a custom baby blue Trans Am named Shark. The "robber" stole Shark as his getaway vehicle and the heroine, Nicki, dove in beside him. That was as far as I got--I could never see beyond their flying down the highway bickering as they were chased by bad guys. The second was a hot mess of an erotic Gothic paranormal involving an eighteen-year-old governess and the sixteen-year-old eldest son of the house, who made quite inappropriate advances toward her via astral projection while she slept. I wrote 100 pages front and back--IN PENCIL--before I hit that I HATE point in the story and shoved it under my bed. When I retrieved it two years later, the lead was so smeared I couldn't read it. The End. After that, I set my dream aside to address the more practical matters in life--matters like eating and putting a roof over my head. It took finding my own hero to reignite my passion for romance writing. More than 25 years after my last attempt, I bought a used laptop on eBay and wrote my first erotic romance. Mr Robin and I have been married for twenty-plus years; we live on a farm and have three wonderful offspring. I love to hear from readers, so don't be timid about dropping by my website or blog to say hi!

Book preview

Carnal Harvest

Robin L. Rotham

Carnal Harvest

Copyright 2009 Robin L. Rotham

Smashwords edition, Copyright 2017

Cover art by Robin L. Rotham

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the publisher and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About the Author

Excerpt: Carnal Compromise

Dedication

This one is for all the farmers, because there’s a lot more

going on in their heads than you’d think.

Chapter One

Dude, how would you like to fuck my wife?

Hake Stivers grimaced as he pushed open the storm door and stepped onto the porch. Nah, that was a little too in-your-face. Besides, at thirty-eight, he wasn’t young enough, blond enough, or cool enough to be calling his cousin dude.

Maybe, So Brent, do you think Mandy’s sexy?

He rolled his eyes. What was Brent supposed to say to that? The guy was damned if he thought she was and damned if he didn’t.

Yanking the bill of his seed cap down to shield his eyes against the late morning sun, Hake looked out over the yard. The winds had already stripped most of the pale-yellow leaves from the towering maples his dad had planted before he was born, and if the forecast was to be believed, the rest probably wouldn’t make it through the weekend. Come tomorrow afternoon, a big chunk of South Dakota would be under a high-wind warning.

The drone of the air compressor told him Brent was in the machine shed, powering the dirt and chaff off the combine. He could also hear Joe coming up the gravel drive with the semi. The line at the co-op must not have been too long, for a change. There were only a dozen or so rounds of corn left to harvest last night when the guys packed it in, and if the co-op had been open later, they could have finished up then instead of this morning.

God damn it, this all felt so wrong. Here it was, the last day of harvest, and he hadn’t even set foot in the combine, much less done any harvesting. It was a first for Hake, and one he wasn’t happy about. His dad had taken him for his first ride in the combine when he was barely a year old, and he’d never missed a harvest since. And he hadn’t missed a year of actually working during harvest since he was ten.

This year, thanks to his own stupidity, he’d been about as useful as tits on a boar. Why couldn’t he have rolled the four-wheeler after harvest? The broken pelvis and shattered femur would still have hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, as would the medical bills, and Mandy would still have had to help out with chores, but at least Hake would have gotten to reap what he’d sown instead of paying his cousin’s custom farming outfit to do it.

His sigh sent a cloud of steam into the air. Why this year, when grain prices had finally surged high enough that he might have made a decent profit for once? Instead of getting ahead a little, they were probably going to show a loss again, and it was all he could do not to scream his frustration at the heavens.

Of course, Mandy would tell him—had told him, more than once—to be thankful that the accident had happened this year, when they had the extra money to handle it. She’d also pointed out he should be grateful it wasn’t his reckless, idiotic neck that got broken.

Knowing she was right didn’t make his situation suck any less.

A gust of wind made him shiver. Damn, he should have worn a heavier coat. When had it gotten so cold?

He zipped his jacket up to the collar, then gripped the icy handrail and thumped down the concrete steps. At the bottom, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and set out across the yard at a slow limp. Mandy would bitch at him if she caught him coming out without the cane, but he was sick of it. He was sick of being laid up and sick of doctors who didn’t know