Ice Men of North Dakota

(Dakota Heat 5)

Erotic Cowboy Ménage Romance, M/F/M/M/M, HEA

Barrett Brown, Quinn Phillips, Mason Malone, and Grant Richard, friends for years,  all left their ranches in Texas five years earlier in search of a change. They found that change, and the peace they craved, on the Jagged Rock.

A plane crash in the mountains shatters that peace, but not nearly as much as the woman who’s survived it. Finding her injured and half-frozen, they takes her back to the ranch, and within hours, know their lives will never be the same.

Kendra Stevenson finds herself injured and stranded on a ranch with four strange men—ice men—as hard and cold as the mountains they’ve mastered. Finding herself attracted to all four of them leaves her confused and doubting herself, but with their encouragement, she finds herself tumbling into a world of erotic hunger and warm affection that she just can’t resist.

Loving four men is risky. When her life is threatened, the stakes are even higher.


Almost two hours later, they arrived at the crash site, long after the fire had already burned out. It only took one glance to see that the pilot was dead, his body burned beyond recognition.

Clenching his jaw, he trudged through the snow around the wreckage, worried that he would find other victims. The knot in his stomach turned to ice, the horror of the situation tightening his gut.

They searched what little remained of the rest of the small plane, and the immediate surrounding area, but found no other bodies.

Grim-faced, Quinn scrubbed a hand over his face. “It looks like he was alone, but we’d better look around.”

Barrett nodded. “I doubt anyone could have survived this. We’ll spread out and see if there’s anyone else. That plane was a four-seater. Chances are, he had at least one passenger.”

The three of them fanned out, moving in increasingly larger circles around the wreckage. The snow came down heavier now, but the mountain blocked most of the wind.

Trying his best to ignore the cold, Barrett kept moving. Fearing that he would miss something, he moved with painstaking slowness with the others, as they tried to cover every inch. Using his flashlight, he scanned the surrounding area, knowing the odds of finding someone—especially someone still alive—decreased with every minute that passed.

They’d been searching for almost an hour when a sound caught his attention.

“Shh.” He stopped in his tracks and sliced a hand through the air, signaling for Quinn and Grant to be quiet.

Both men shone the flashlights in the same direction he aimed his, but he couldn’t see a damned thing besides trees and snow.

He heard nothing but silence for the next several minutes, but he didn’t move a muscle, straining his ears in an effort to hear something—anything—knowing that missing something could mean death.

Suddenly, it came again, a low, pain-filled moan, barely loud enough to be heard.

Someone had survived!

Racing in the direction it came from, he swept the area with his flashlight, but saw nothing.

“I heard it, too.” Grant came to a stop beside him, using his own light to search. “It was weak. If we don’t find him soon, he’s a goner.”

Miraculously, it came again. Quinn, who stood to his right, raced forward and dropped to his knees in the high snow. “Over here!”

Barrett moved through the heavy snow to Quinn’s side just as he uncovered what appeared to be nothing more than a mound of clothing.

Quinn’s eyes went wide, a look of horror on his face. “Christ, it’s a woman.” He turned her gently to her back, bending low and putting his ear to her face. “Thank God.” Lifting his head, he shot a glance at them, his expression hard and cold. “She’s alive, but I don’t know for how long.”

Barrett pulled off his gloves and reached for her, running his hands over her and checking for injuries. He pulled out a knife and cut the strap of the purse she’d wrapped around her. “I hate to move her, but we can’t leave her here like this. We have to take her back to the house. She might not make it to town.”

Quinn cursed, looking at Barrett over her small form. “We’d better hurry, or she might not even make it back to the ranch.”