Trust Me
What happens when a billionaire heir with trust issues falls in love with a con woman?
A forced marriage and one hell of a journey toward happily ever after.
Trust Me coming soon!
If you haven’t already checked out my Townsend’s of Williamsport series, click here.
The Townsends of Texas have kept me quite busy over the past couple of months. Next up, is middle brother Ace. If you read All of Me, you will know that book ended on a bit of a cliffhanger where Ace is concerned. We learned something very important about his relationship status.
Well, in My Forever, you will get to read all about Ace’s love story. And find out, if he’ll get his happily ever after just like his two brothers.
For now, you can pre-order Ace’s book here.
Also, below is a snippet of Ace’s story and what’s to come. Enjoy!
***EXCERPT ONLY. SUBJECT TO CHANGE***
Ace snorted. “Whatever.” He waved a dismissive hand.
“Whatever,” I mocked, feeling just as childish as he was right then. “Listen, since I agreed to this bullshit arrangement of yours, I felt it would suit us both to agree on some terms.”
I pulled a folded piece of paper out of my shoulder bag and handed it to Ace.
“You and your fucking terms.” He snorted and shook his head at the same time he snatched the paper from my hand.
I watched as he unfolded it and read its contents.
He eyed me over the paper. “You expect me to sign this?”
“It’s a perfectly reasonable request,” I said, nodding. “It’s an agreement that once these six months are up, you will sign the divorce papers and not give me problems about doing so.”
“I’m pretty good with reading comprehension.” His tone dripped with sarcasm and disdain.
“Then you should recognize that by signing this agreement, you aren’t giving anything up. We both get what we want.”
“We do?” Both of his eyebrows lifted.
I nodded slowly.
He moved, and that time, I did take a step back. He held up the form I’d given him and tore it in half before tossing it on the floor.
“Unlike you, I keep my word. If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”
I clenched my fists at my side. “You’re being impossible.”
He shrugged.
“Asshole,” I mumbled.
That made him smile. A genuine smile.
“And what is it that you want, Savannah?” he asked, harkening back to my earlier comment.
“You already know what I want.” My voice came out much lower than I anticipated.
Ace shook his head. “You want a divorce, but that doesn’t tell me shit about why. Why the hell after sixteen years are you coming to me with this?”
My mind grasped for bits and pieces of lies that I could tell him. He didn’t want to know the truth of why I came back after all these years. He hated me and wanted to use anything I said to continue to stoke the flames of his anger.
“I think it’s time that we finally get the divorce out of the way,” I finally said.
Ace lowered his face only inches from mine. “Your nose still flares when you lie.” His voice was menacing. “Lie to me again, and I’ll add another month.”
I bulged my eyes.
“You’ve got ten seconds to give me a straight answer.” He paused and stepped back. He pivoted on his heels. “Ten…” he counted over his should as he headed toward the kitchen.
“Nine…”
I couldn’t give him seven months. Hell, six months was pushing it.
“Because it’s a stipulation of my grandmother’s trust that I divorce you before I can receive what she left for me,” I blurted out behind him.
He spun on his heels, giving me an incredulous look. It was so full of surprise, malice, and disgust that I would’ve preferred he slapped me across the face than look at me that way.
“Money?” His tone was stern. “That is why you’re here?”
I looked away, unable to take the expression on his face and the harshness of his voice at the same time.
Not for the first time in the past sixteen years did I yearn for the boy I fell in love with and married. The one who was my protector.
But in his stead before me stood the man who’d come to hate me.
“Yes,” I whispered, giving him the answer he wanted.
“Of course,” he sneered.
“What about you?” The question came out of my anger. Why I was pissed, I didn’t know, but it propelled me to ask questions of my own. “What are you getting out of this?”
Ace stepped forward. When I thought he would stop, he continued to advance on me, forcing me back against the kitchen wall. His hand shot up, cupping the lower part of my face.
His movements were so swift, I didn’t have time to react before his mouth covered mine. His kiss was bruising, even more punishing than the words he’d thrown at me seconds earlier. But a small spark went off deep in my belly.
Somehow, I ended up kissing him back. And as soon as I did, Ace pulled away from me.
With his hand still around my face, he looked me right in the eye and said, “In six months, I’ll get what I want from this marriage.” He paused. “And then I get to forget all about you. I won’t ever think about you again. You will be dead to me.”
I didn’t think there could have been more words in any other language as cold and painful as the ones he just spat in my face.
I tried to search those grey irises for a glimpse of the old Ace. The one who would’ve never said anything remotely close to this to me.
“I get to forget you ever existed.” He pushed the dagger through my heart one more inch.
I know. I know. I’m over a week late with this announcement on the blog. My apologies. Between the release and starting my next book, things have been a little busy over here.
But in case you missed it: All of Me is NOW AVAILABLE on Amazon. Click here to get your copy today
Coming soon to Amazon.
Hello All,
It’s time for a sneak peek of my upcoming project, All of Me. This book will be the second book in the Townsends of Texas Series. The first book was For You, featuring big brother, Micah Townsend. If you haven’t checked that one out, click here to get your copy and catch up before book 2 drops.
All of Me centers around youngest Texas Townsend brother, Gabriel. Here is a sneak peek of what’s to come. Enjoy!
Lena Clarkson couldn’t truly be walking into the middle of my brother’s wedding reception.
“They’re on the list,” Jodi said as she and Micah moved toward the women. “Lena,” she said, confirming that this was indeed reality.
Lena Clarkson was there.
“Who’s this?” Ace asked.
I all but shoved my brother aside and sidled up to Lena. “My future wife.” The words tumbled from my mouth without permission. Strangely, the urge to recant them never materialized.
I didn’t miss the way her eyes ballooned and her sharp inhale. “Gabriel.”
She said my name in that way that reminded me of honey and milk; sweet, comforting, and warming.
“Do you two know each other?” Jodi asked, glancing between Lena and me. She dropped her gaze, and that was when I realized I still held onto Lena’s hand.
Lena must’ve realized the same thing because she pulled it free. Reluctantly, I let it go.
“We’ve met,” Lena answered. “You remember Rayven, right?” She said to Jodi, gesturing to the woman staring daggers at me.
“Of course.”
“I’m so sorry to barge in on your reception like this,” Lena said. “Our flight was delayed, and we got lost on the way here.”
“No worries at all. Please, come in. Enjoy yourself,” Jodi insisted. She introduced Lena and Rayven, who I quickly found out was Lena’s cousin and part-time security, to Micah and the rest of the family.
“I’ll take it from here,” I told my new sister-in-law as I took Lena’s hand. “Let’s have a dance,” I said to Lena.
Her lips parted, and not for the first time I wondered if they felt as soft as they looked. The light pink coloring on them paired with the gold shimmer on her high cheekbones made her captivating. In reality, I was sure she could be bare-faced and would be as appealing.
“She’s safe with me,” I assured her security, who was still giving me a skeptical look.
Lena cleared her throat. “It’s okay, Ray.” She turned back to me. “One dance couldn’t hurt.”
My lips spread into a grin, and for a heartbeat, Lena appeared flustered, as if she regretted her previous statement.
She looked at the crowd around us. “There’re a lot of people here.”
“Mostly family,” I said. “It’s cool, though. No one here’s going to sneak any pictures of you.”
When her shoulders relaxed and the slightly rigid way she’d held her body eased, I knew that was the right thing to say.
We moved to the center of the dance floor before I brought her body close to mine.
“Alicia Keys,” Lena said.
“What was that?” I asked as I started swaying our bodies to the time of the music.
“The song. It’s Alicia Keys,” she answered. “How it Feels To Fly.”
“Cool song title.”
“I guess it’s appropriate for the occasion.”
I nodded in agreement and pulled her body into mine. She fit perfectly.
Lena no longer wore the engagement ring that I’d seen her wear in Los Angeles. That, and the fact that she’d shown up to a wedding with her cousin instead of the douchebag, I assumed she was now single.
“How’ve you been?” I asked.
She twisted her head, and her eyes narrowed.
“You and your cousin look alike when you make that face.” I glanced over at her eagle-eyed cousin, who now stood off to one side of the room, surveying it.
“We used to be referred to as The Twins when we were young,” she said. “She’s a little older than me, but we look a lot alike. Even with our difference in shades, we were often mistaken for sisters.”
I could see it. Lena’s light brown complexion was slightly lighter than her cousin’s, but they both had the same plump lips, high cheekbones, and pert noses. Lena was barely five-foot-three, while her cousin stood much taller.
“By middle school, Ray shot up in height and left me in the dust.” She let out a laugh. It was melodic, just like her voice.
“Do you like this song?” I asked after listening to the lyrics for a little while.
She nodded.
“You ever wonder how it feels to fly?”
Her mouth parted, and I almost groaned. She seemed dumbfounded by my question, so I decided to keep going.
“Obviously, you never experienced it with that douchebag back in Los Angeles.”
“You mean Nate?”
I frowned at hearing his name.
She pulled back, staring up at me.
“Your ring is gone, and you showed up here with only your security,” I said. “So you finally recognized he was dragging you down?”
“Very funny,” she commented. “You’re trying to get the story on what led up to that video?”
My eyebrows dipped. “What video?”
Her frown deepened. “Yeah, like you don’t know.”
I brought her body into mine again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you confirmed that you’re single. Which is everything I need to know.”
It was as if everything I’d thought about relationships, in particular, my getting involved in a relationship, fell by the wayside. When looking Lena in the face, the warnings of my past were no use.
After that, the song ended, and the DJ began playing a fast song. More guests began moving onto the dance floor.
“I’m not interested in how it feels to fly,” Lena said before stepping out of my hold.
“Why not?” I asked with a smirk.
“I’m afraid of heights,” was her answer before she walked away.
I turned, following her with my gaze, watching the sway of her hips in the knee-length green dress she wore.
“Afraid of heights, my ass,” I mumbled, watching her walk away.
Like what you read? Click here to PRE-ORDER your copy of All of Me now!
Will be available September 30th.
Don’s Blaze available on Amazon. Free with KindleUnlimited.
Click here to get your copy today.
Blurb
Don
Being a firefighter is not just a job for me. It’s a mission. Sure, most of the time, I’m looked at as the comedic relief around the station. But I take my job seriously. As soon as that bell rings and I put on my protective gear, I’m all business. I have to be. One false move could cost a life. Rescue Four is not just good at what we do. We’re the best in Williamsport.
One night, it all goes wrong. A deadly fire almost kills my best friend and squadmate, Corey. A fire I know with my entire being is the result of arson.
As the squad investigator at Rescue Four, it’s my responsibility to get to the bottom of what happened that night. When the leading investigator at headquarters shows himself useless, I resort to working this investigation with Jocelyn, Corey’s twin sister. It’s enough figuring out how I’m going to solve this case while also keeping her safe. The more significant challenge is figuring out how to get her to trust that I won’t hurt her like the men in her past.
Jocelyn
Let’s face it, men can’t be trusted. Not when it comes to matters of the heart. That’s not me being bitter or anything. It’s just a reality that I’ve learned from experience. Now, I use my skills as a private investigator to help women find out the truth about their partners. I’m happy doing it, and it affords me a good living.
I want to make it clear that I don’t hate all men. I do believe the majority of them are unapologetic cheaters. As such, I don’t have any false notions of riding off into the sunset with one or getting my happily ever after. It’s an easy stance to keep up as long as I stay away from the one man who brings out a longing in me I didn’t know was still there.
Distance proves difficult when I discover someone is after Rescue Four, and that same someone is responsible for my brother’s injury. Once I step in to help Don, I have to remind myself falling for him is not an option. No matter how many nights he ends up in my bed.
Love only leads to heartbreak.
Unfortunately, I soon have to contend that Don is not only good at putting out fires. He’s adept when it comes to starting them too. The fiery blaze of want and desire he ignites deep in my belly is inevitable. Somehow, I have to figure out how to protect my heart in all of this and not become another victim of the arsonist or Don’s charms.
Click here to get your copy today.
Blurb
Luke
Call me what you want to call me. Only one thing mattered and that’s claiming the NFA heavyweight title once again. I don’t trust people, which is why I have my crew, my manager, Lenny and myself. That’s all I need. At least that was until Syd walked into my gym.
Syd
I’m here to train Luke. He’s defensive and rarely lets anyone into his inner circle, but there’s something between us that’s undeniable. It’s a spark neither one of us saw coming. Once secrets are revealed we’re left fighting for more than Luke’s shot at the title.
The question remains, will the bond Luke and I have created be strong enough to carry us through to the other side?
Luke, Book 2 in the A**hole Club Series will be available on March 9th. Please note: the A**hole Club Series is a collaboration with four other authors. Pit, the first book in the series will be available this week. Luke will be available on March 9th, followed by Tak, Deacon, Kelex and Rhet. One book will be released over the next six weeks.
Teaser:
“I’m going to give you five seconds to get the hell out of my hotel room, Syd. After those five seconds, if you’re still here, I’m going to carry you to my bedroom, strip your a** bare, turn you over and shove my c*ck so deep inside you, you won’t know where I start and you end.”
“Luke.”
“One.”
“We.”
“Two.”
“Shouldn’t.”
“Three.”
“Um.”
“Four. ” “Five,” I purred at the same time he did
The A**holes are Coming.
Luke
Call me what you want to call me. Only one thing mattered and that’s claiming the NFA heavyweight title once again. I don’t trust people, which is why I have my crew, my manager, Lenny, and myself. That’s all I need. At least that was until Syd walked into my gym.
Syd
I’m here to train Luke. He’s defensive and rarely lets anyone into his inner circle, but there’s something between us that’s undeniable. It’s a spark neither one of us saw coming. Once secrets are revealed we’re left fighting for more than Luke’s shot at the title. The question remains, will the bond Luke and I have created be strong enough to carry us through to the other side?
In case you haven’t heard, Mark O’Brien’s book, A Holiday Temptation, will be released THIS coming Friday. That’s November 6th. I’ve posted a previous snippet from his book. But I’m not done with holiday novellas yet! The following week, A Holiday Seduction will be released. Below is a snippet from Neil McKenna’s story (Neil first appears briefly in Aaron’s Patience).
Inhaling sharply, I turn to see the man who just spoke. My eyes widen when I see him. Blinking, I do my best to wipe away the moisture from my eyes, both out of embarrassment and to be able to get a clear sight of him. My mind has trouble processing that Neil McKenna stands here in front of me.
For almost a full minute, there are no words exchanged between the two of us. Only stares. I observe the way his long hair falls to his shoulders, the tips folding over into unruly curls, the thick, slashing eyebrows that appear slightly darker than the hair on his head, and the beads of sweat that trail down his straight-edge nose, dripping down to soak the strawberry blond hairs of his beard.
These features combined would make for a beautiful picture in and of itself, but the kicker is his eyes. The golden color is pretty, sure enough, but what elevates his appearance to breath-taking is the intensity in them. The depths in his eyes make you feel as if he were looking through you, right to your very soul. At least, that’s what I feel whenever I see him.
“Mister McKenna.” His name pours out of my mouth on a breathless sigh, sounding both titillated and relieved to find it’s him and not some random stranger standing behind me.
A small frown appears on his pink lips. “We’ve been through this, Desiree,” he responds, sounding disappointed. “Call me Neil.” He emphasizes his first name as if I’d somehow forgotten it.
I start to shake my head, but his frown deepens, as does the penetrative look in his eyes, and I stop myself. Clearing my throat, I respond, “Neil.”
His nostrils flare, and his head dips just an inch or so, approvingly.
“What are you doing out so early?” I ask since it’s barely seven in the morning. The fact that he’s dressed in running shorts, sneakers, and a T-shirt should make the answer obvious, but I’m at a loss as to what else to say.
He steps closer and peers over my shoulder since I’ve now stood and turned fully in his direction. He stares at the headstone behind me, his lips pulling downward and a sadness invading those golden-brown orbs.
“You couldn’t have saved her.” He allows his statement to hang in the air for a few brief moments before he pins me with his gaze.
It’s hard to speak around the lump that forms in my throat, but I manage to eke out, “I could’ve tried harder. Forced her to return to treatment again.”
Neil shakes his head against my stubbornness. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Sure it does. I went to college with a guy who was in and out of rehab, and finally, when his parents kicked him out and told him they were done, he stopped. Another girl I know from high school got sober after her first stay at your rehab center. And Jackie told me about another patient with a similar story.”
“But none of them were Dierdre,” he says dryly. So dry that it cuts off any retort I can think to say back. Why? Because he’s correct. Not one of those people I mentioned was my sister.
I lower my gaze and turn my back on Neil, or Mr. McKenna as I’d taken to calling him since I first met him almost five years ago.
“She should still be here,” I mumble, staring at the date of her death engraved on her headstone.
October 3, 2017.
“She was only twenty-eight,” I murmur and lift my head to the right. He’s standing beside me, staring at me instead of the headstone. “I’ve lived a year longer than my older sister,” I whisper. It doesn’t feel right saying it out loud.
There’s something incredibly wrong about the fact that I’ve had a year longer on this planet than Dierdre.
Suddenly, the chill that threatened to invade every cell of my body begins to recede. Swallowing, I look down at my right hand to find it covered by his larger, left hand. He squeezes, and my knees weaken, not to the point of toppling me over, but noticeably so.
“I should’ve been able to save her.”
A Holiday Temptation – Coming November 6th
I hope you did because you’re about to get not one but two holiday novellas from me. First up: A Holiday Temptation.
Remember Mark O’Brien? Executive Assistant to the one and only Aaron Townsend, as well as Connor O’Brien’s younger brother? Yes? Good, because he’s finally getting his own story. Here’s a snippet from A Holiday Temptation
***SNEAK PEEK. UNEDITED. SUBJECT TO CHANGE***
The strumming of my heartbeat was so loud during the first hour of the meeting, I barely heard any of what was said. Throughout our working lunch, the sandwiches and salad tasted like cardboard, as I remained keenly aware of the negative energy flowing my way from the man to my right.
Mark O’Brien.
No longer a sixteen-year-old boy. A fully grown man. In a wheelchair.
My heart squeezes so tightly that it feels as if I may blackout for a moment. I tightly grip onto the sides of my chair and will myself to breathe. It takes a few minutes, but the tightness releases slightly, and I’m able to refocus on the meeting at hand. More like the end of the meeting.
We’ve been at Townsend Industries for over four hours, and finally, we’re wrapping things up to head out for the day.
I don’t dare to look over at Mark, who I’d felt shooting me daggers throughout the meeting. Instead, I rise from my seat, thank Aaron Townsend for having us, and start for the door behind Jase.
“Jackie, I need to speak with Aaron in his office. Now would be a great time for you and Mark to talk and figure out a schedule for you all to get together over the next few weeks.”
My eyes balloon, but Jase doesn’t notice as he spins on his heels and follows Aaron out the door. My eyes circle the room and come to land on the exact person I’d been hoping to avoid. Mark doesn’t make a secret of mean mugging me this time. I venture to guess it’s because, save for two members of the staff, cleaning up the room, we’re the only people left here.
I shift my weight from one high heel to the other, feeling more uneasy than I remember feeling in a very long time. Even as I sat at the funeral of one of my best friends, Deirdre, three years ago, after she died from an overdose, I didn’t feel this uncomfortable. Probably because at Dierdre’s funeral, I’d been numb and more concerned with making sure her younger sister, Desiree, my other best friend, was okay.
However, now, as I stand in this spacious board room with only Mark and myself, the closer he gets, the more and more the walls seem to close in on me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He demands in a low but vicious tone of voice.
I force myself to push the air out of my lungs and to open my mouth. “M-Mark, I—”
“Why are you here?”
I swing my gaze from one side of the room to the other, somewhat hoping that someone else will answer for me. When no one does, I manage to get my brain working again.
Lifting my chin, I stare at him and answer, “I’m working.”
His jaw clenches, and I have to fight not to break eye contact.
“For Cypress? All of a sudden?” The accusation in his voice is palpable.
I nod, nonetheless. “I moved back to Williamsport a month ago.” I bite my tongue just in time to keep the words after my father died from slipping out.
“Go back to wherever the hell you were before.”
I flinch at the harshness in his tone. The deep line on his forehead speaks of his rage.
But I can’t go back. My mother needs me here. Even if she doesn’t know it.
“No. And you and I need to find some way to work together. I-I’m sorry about the past and—”
“Don’t you dare speak to me of the past,” he growls, effectively cutting me off. “You don’t ever get to mention shit about the past to me.”
The pain of his words cuts through my belly, but somehow I manage to keep myself upright.
“Fine. But, we still have a job to do.”
“I’m not working with you.” He shakes his head fervently, his lips pinching. However, as he pivots his chair to move around me, I take the bold move of stepping in front of him. His scowl grows angrier, something a moment ago, I didn’t think was possible.
“Move.”
“I will. Once we work out a schedule to get this project done.”
He opens his mouth, and before words come out, I already know it’s going to be another refutation of our working together.
Interrupting, I insist. “We have to, Mark.” I quickly glance over my shoulder, making sure that we’re still the only ones in the room. “Look, this is uncomfortable for both of us. I get it. Yet, we’re adults. Professionals. And we have a lot to get done in the next seven and a half weeks. Your boss doesn’t seem like the type to fool around. He put you in charge of this assignment. I’m assuming that means he trusts you to get it done.”
I pause, allowing time for my words to sink in. The line in Mark’s forehead eases, just a pinch, but enough that I can see common sense is overtaking his anger.
He runs a hand across his forehead, rubbing the tension out as he stares down into his lap.
I take this time to let my gaze settle on him for the first time since I entered this boardroom. It makes no sense for me to notice how absolutely gorgeous he still is. The same as he was when we were teenagers. Back then, he had the height advantage at six-foot-one at sixteen. Now, he doesn’t need the height to still be as eye-catching with his dirty blond hair thanks to his Irish roots, chiseled jaw, and light hazel eyes.
Back in high school, those eyes always appeared to be smiling with the smallest amount of mischief tucked away inside their depths. Right now, though, there’s nothing hidden about the ways his eyes reveal how much he despises the fact that we’ve been thrown together on this project.
“You’re right. Aaron trusts me, and this job is important to me. We’ll work together. Via phone and email only. I don’t want to see your face.”
His response leaves me stunned long enough that he’s able to maneuver his chair around my body and out of the door before I can even respond.
“Ready to go?” Jase questions, having returned from his meeting with Aaron.
Silently, I nod and follow Jase out of the boardroom. Suzette reappears, just as cheery as she was before, and walks us down the long hallway toward the exit. Peering over, I see Mark at the lobby’s main entranceway, staring into his computer screen as he speaks into a headset.
Resisting the urge to stare at his profile for too long, I turn to Suzette, giving her a pasted on smile as she continues talking about how excited she is for the holiday season.
A part of me wishes I was as excited as Suzette is for the holidays. But between a grieving mother, an overbearing father who’s still controlling me from his grave, and a work project that’s put me in direct course with the man I meant to avoid, it doesn’t look like there’s anything to look forward to this holiday season.
I hope the answer to that question is a resounding YES! Because Angelo’s book will be dropping soon. To prove it, I’ve got a little preview for you. Meet Angelo and Kierra
***UNEDITED. SUBJECT TO CHANGE***
My sister’s joyous laughter floated to my ears from afar, above the crashing of the ocean waves. I let out a sigh as I ran my hands up and down my bare arms. I should’ve been happy for her. I tried being happy for her. Yet, staring at the dark sky, and seemingly black waters, broken up by the reflection of the moon, I again felt the deep loneliness that’d been my constant companion as of late.
I rolled my eyes at my dramatics and shook the feeling off. “This is Sierra’s day,” I mumbled to myself. No matter how nontraditional Sierra’s new union may be and trust me, it was unconventional I needed to be happy for her. I fought to suppress my doubts on whether her being married to two men—twins, was best for her, and to celebrate her joy.
Goosebumps began to form along my arms, and a chill raced through me. It must’ve been the cooler night air. Although we were on an island located in the South Pacific somewhere, and the temperature hovered around eighty degrees, even with the sundown. I turned ready to rejoin the crowd in celebration, and my breath hitched at the pair of olive green eyes staring back at me.
My entire body shook. Angelo’s firm attention held me captive. I attempted to look away, to break the connection with his gaze, but my eyes refused to look elsewhere. He was my twin sister’s new cousin-in-law.
As I inhaled, my eyes began moving again, but not away from him, over the length of his body. My gaze gently perused over his, admittedly, gorgeous face. And those green, hypnotizing eyes, full bottom lip, the dark slashing eyes brows that matched the color of the jet black hair on his head. His hair was short, stopping at his ears, with the top a little longer. He’d cut it recently. According to Sierra, it was once long enough to wear in a ponytail or fall around his shoulders.
Not that I asked, of course. My sister decided to volunteer that information. Why I opted to tuck that piece of data away to remember was anyone’s guess. Luckily, I stopped my gaze from trailing down the full length of his slender body. Angelo wasn’t broad, like my sister’s husbands. He had more of a runner’s build, and he kept it in immaculate condition. I’d caught sight of him the day before in a pair of swimming trunks, while he worked out on the beach.
He had the perfect golden coloring, all over, from days spent in the Mediterranean sun. Or from being born with it in his blood.
I cleared my throat and finally looked away.
“You looked lonely,” he finally said.
My toes curled into the sand. The sandals, I’d changed into after the ceremony, were in my hand.
“I’m not,” I retorted before shifting to head back over to the crowd where it was safe, where I was safe from him.
Angelo had other plans, as he moved to stand in my way. “Bored, perhaps?”
Though he spoke perfect English, I noted the whisper of an accent, particularly as he clipped the endings off of certain words. One word came to mind upon hearing it.
Sexy.
Again, I didn’t give that thought much credence. I’d often found accents sexy—no big deal.
“Excuse me.”
He smirked. “What do you need excuses for?”
“I mean, you’re in my way.”
“Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“In your way? Or are you just being stubborn?”
“Excuse you?” I placed my hand on my hip.
He tilted his head to the side, and though it was dark, I could make out a particular shifting in that cocky gaze of his.
“You’ve avoided me the entire week we’ve been on this island.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know you to be avoiding you. Besides, I’m here for my sister. Being her maid of honor required my full attention.”
A deep, inviting chuckle broke free from his lips.
More goosebumps, accompanied by the hair on my arms standing.
“We both know that to be a lie. Miei cugini give your sister all the attention she needs. And more.”
I wasn’t quite sure of the words, but I assumed he was referring to his cousins. I let my eyes drift over into the distance. From where I stood, I spotted Sierra dancing with one of her husbands again. His back was to be, so I couldn’t tell which one it was, but I knew Angelo’s statement to be true. The last thing Sierra would ever want for is attention.
I envied that.
I turned my head forward and sharply inhaled when I found that Angelo had moved close enough to reach out and touch me. Literally. He reached out with his right hand and let his fingers gently trail down the length of my arm. A simple whisper of a touch, yet my nipples responded as if he had the key to start my sexual engine.
I stepped back. Don’t touch me, was on the tip of my tongue. But my mouth failed me. I couldn’t produce the words.
“Defiant,” he said frowning.
I wanted to laugh. That is the absolute last word most people would use to describe me. Compliant? Yes. Defiant? No way.
“I need to get back to the wedding.” My voice was significantly weaker than at the start of this conversation.
Angelo glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to me. “Or you can spend the night with me.”
I should’ve slapped him for even suggesting it. Who the hell did he think I was? Just because my sister married into his criminal enterprise of a family didn’t mean that I was looking for some kind of a cheap thrill.
Those thoughts ran through my mind to throw at him, but then he moved, taking my hand into his, pulling me into his body. None too gently, either. His other hand made its way to my hip, squeezing. Again, his hold was firm, not soft in any way.
His lips barreled down over mine. His tongue was so warm and tantalizing that I had no choice but to separate my lips. I yearned to feel him inside of me, in any way I could get it. That was the moment I realized that my deepest fears had come true.
I would give myself to this man.
For You is the first book in my Townsends of Texas series and it’s coming soon! Below, I’ve provided a snippet of the first encounter between Micah Townsend and Jodi Taylor. I can’t wait for you all to meet them. Enjoy.
I gritted my teeth but nodded. Oliver Wilson was an entitled piece of work, like most of my clients were. I worked with high-end business owners, CEOs, and government officials who were used to having others kiss their assess. Though I didn’t play that game, it was still a pain in the ass to be around them at times.
“Yeah, I—” I began to tell Oliver how I’d have my team proceed, but a noise from up the hall captured my attention. My door was open, so I could distinctly hear sounds coming from my office’s lobby. One of them was a female’s voice, but it wasn’t Leona. This voice was unfamiliar to me, yet I instantly needed to see the face of the person it was attached to. The need was as compelling as the need to take my next breath.
“Oliver, I’m going to have to get back to you.” Without more explanation than that, I disconnected the call and quickly exited my office. Behind me, I heard Hound following, but I didn’t pause to allow him to catch up.
The voice grew louder, the closer I got to the lobby. Oddly, the closer I drew to the sound of the woman, the quicker my heart pulsed.
“That was extremely unprofessional and rude. Especially, since I wasn’t allowed to explain what my case entailed. To be told …”
I halted as soon as my gaze landed on the woman who was standing over Leona’s desk. She was irate. And beautiful. I allowed my eyes to linger on her honey-toned face, and her oddly colored, brownish eyes as they narrowed on Leona. She stood about five-foot-eight inches, but I couldn’t tell if that was her actual height or if she was wearing heels. She was petite up top, but when I cast my eyes down the length of her body, I caught the flare of her hips. They were outlined by the denim jeans she had on.
Lifting my gaze, I peered at her perfectly plump lips moving a mile a minute. I couldn’t fully comprehend the words coming out of said lips because I was too fucking distracted by the image they made.
An inch above those lips, I caught sight of the gold septum piercing. It intrigued me. But what captivated my full attention and drew me even closer was catching sight of this woman’s completely bald, perfectly shaped head. Maybe not completely bare, but very close to it. She had less than a quarter-inch of hair on her head. She wore it that way on purpose.
I didn’t know too many women with the confidence to pull off such a look. And pull it off she did. Very well.
I couldn’t not watch her. Even as she continued to ream out Leona, I found myself so utterly intrigued that I remained at a loss for something to say for an unacceptable amount of time. I rarely found myself at a loss for words. Shit, I may not always utter them, but I had the words for any situation.
It wasn’t until my gaze dropped to stare at the black T-shirt she wore with the words ‘Woman Up’ emblazoned across the front, that I stepped forward.
Coming even with Leona’s desk, I folded my arms across my chest, staring down at the woman before me and questioned, “What the hell are you screaming at my office manager about?”
Her eyes widened as she glared up at me, and that was when I noticed her eyes weren’t brown. They were a dark hazel that only appeared brown from a distance.
Interesting.
“You,” she pushed free through her teeth.
I lifted my eyebrows, both thrilled to have her attention on me and curious as to what the hell I’d done to piss her off. Not that I wouldn’t have done whatever it was again. I likely would if it meant she would be here in this same position, staring at me like this.
“You’re the one who said my case wasn’t worth it. How dare you?” she lambasted, pointing her finger in my direction. “How dare you say my grandfather isn’t worth the trouble of taking my case. The least you could’ve done is pointed me in a different direction. But to say he isn’t worth it?” Her voice level rose with every sentence.
Completely unaware of what she was referring to, I peered down at Leona with a questioning expression.
“Ms. Taylor was the woman on the line not too long ago who called in about her grandfather and the missing teen girl.”
I continued to stare at Leona, still not understanding how the hell two and two equaled four.
“Ms. Taylor heard you say she’s not worth the trouble, and she believed you were referring to her case.”
I nodded and directed my attention to the angry woman before me. Looking her directly in the eye, I said, “So, Ms. Taylor, you mistakenly presumed that I was referring to your case, more specifically, your grandfather, when I said it wasn’t worth it.”
Her lips pressed together, and for a heartbeat, she looked contrite, as if just realizing she’d fucked up. However, this woman was not going to let a small mix-up on her part get in the way of making her point.
“That is what you said. That it wasn’t worth it, correct?”
“I did, except I wasn’t referring to you or your suspected case at all.”
She nodded slightly and pushed out a breath. “Well, then, I’m sorry.” Her eyes darted to Leona. “Please excuse my rudeness.”
Leona made a noise at the back of her throat. “Not a problem, but as I told you when you first walked in, we don’t take cases such as yours.”
“Come to my office,” I insisted. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Leona glance up at me from her chair. I kept my rapt attention on the woman, almost as if I didn’t have the option of looking away.
Her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted, and she narrowed her eyes for a moment. Our gazes locked, and something warm and smooth moved through my entire body. More revitalizing than my first sip of coffee in the morning. Better than the adrenaline rush I got after completing a grueling run in the hills around my home.
She was the first one to break eye contact, letting her gaze fall to my side. “He doesn’t have a leash?”
Reluctantly, I averted my gaze from hers and looked down at my side to notice Hound sitting on his hind legs, staring up at the woman, his interest piqued. I’d venture to say he watched her in much the same way I did.
“He doesn’t bite.”
“If he has teeth, he bites,” she quickly retorted, warily eyeing Hound.
Unwittingly, I spread my lips into a smirk. “He won’t bite anything unless I tell him to.”
She eyed me curiously again.
Turning, I started for my office. “Follow me, Ms. Taylor.”
The Genovese Family is back! Remember Me will focus on twins Lorenzo and Matteo, along with the rest of the Genovese family to find out how they all fared after the yacht explosion the night of Belle and Christian’s wedding. There will be NO cliffhangers (I promise). **This book will be available ONLY on TiffanyPattersonWrites.com, NOT on Amazon**
Lorenzo
Even as she lies in a coma in the hospital bed, I’m drawn to her. Can’t keep my eyes off of her for too long. While my twin refuses to admit it, he can’t either. Unfortunately, when she finally wakes up it’s with no memory of who she is or how she ended up on the yacht the night of my cousin’s wedding. My instinct directs me to believe that frightened, lost look in her eyes. But can I risk the lives of my family members?
Matteo
My twin is foolish. He believes in love and all that nonsense, just like our father. He too, was a smart man but ended up dying of a broken heart when he lost the woman he loved most in this world. I have to keep Lorenzo from making the same mistake. It’s what I’ve been trying to do our entire lives, especially now that we’re caught up in this war between two powerful families. We’re fighting for our lives and for the lives of everyone we love. I’ve prepared for this my entire life. The only problem is, I too, can’t stop thinking about the woman from the hospital. The one who’s first name is the only thing we know about her, but somehow she ended up on our family’s yacht, injured.
Sierra
Their voices are what pulled me out of my slumber. I awakened only to learn that I have no memory of who I am or how I came to be in the hospital. The only thing I know is that I’m scared and alone, until I see the faces of the voices that kept me company while I slept. Their golden eyes are mesmerizing, the danger that ripples off of them is appealing, but it’s the way we’re drawn to each other like moths to a flame that I can’t get enough of. I may not know who I am or where I came from but I know that Matteo and Lorenzo are my destiny.
Hello All,
I hope everyone is doing well especially considering what’s happening in the world right now. Given that many more people are going to be working from home for the foreseeable future, I thought I’d share some tips on how I’ve successfully worked from home for the past almost three years. These are just guidelines/tips that work for me. Feel free to take or leave what you like. I hope this helps some of you who are forced to find a new normal in this current climate. Here goes …
Tip #1:
ROUTINES, ROUTINES, ROUTINES!
I cannot stress the importance of finding and developing a daily routine that works for you. For some, working from home can seem like a vacation or a “day off.” It’s not. Work still needs to get done. My routine consists of me getting up at the same time every day (Monday through Friday), eating breakfast at the same time every day, starting work at the same time, Lunch, etc. Just as you would if you were going to an office each day, you show up to your home office (I’ll get to that next) at the same time each day, begin working at the same time, and end at the same time. Do not try to sneak in an extra hour or two of sleep and just say you’ll push work back another hour at the end of the day. When I’ve done that, I’ve found myself less motivated to get that additional hour in at the end of the day. Routines are important to helping me strategize the time I have to work with on any given day.
Tip #2:
WORKSPACE
Have a dedicated work space that is used only for work purposes. Obviously, if you’re new to working from home, you may not have an office or the room to set up an entire office to work. However, can you clear off space of your dining room table to set up your laptop to complete work? Can you transform your bedroom vanity area into a work space? I have a work desk where my laptop sits that also holds things like my planner, thesaurus, dictionary, and other items I frequently reach for while writing. Now, I won’t lie, there are days when I’m not feeling well, that I’ll grab my laptop and write while in bed. Those days, however, are far and few in between, because I am just less productive when writing from bed. I’d rather be lounging or sleeping if I’m in bed, so I keep it to a minimum. Make sure, you find a comfortable yet appropriate work space that will allow you to be productive during the time you’ve designated to get work done.
Tip #3:
CREATE A TO DO LIST/HAVE A GOAL FOR EACH DAY
As an author, most days my goal is simple: to hit my word count for that day. On certain days of the week, I have different word count goals than on other days. But each morning one of the first things I do when I sit down at my desk is to take out my planner, look at my current work in progress (WIP), and write how many words should be in my WIP by the time I’m finished for that day. For me, having a tangible thing like a word count to hit by the end of the day allows me to see the actual progress I’ve made. Also, at the end of each working day, I’ll write down in my planner what I want to achieve for the next day. So, if I want to write 7,000 words I’ll write that down. Send emails to a few people? I’ll write that on the list of to-dos for the following day. Need to do some research for an upcoming project or find images for a book cover? All of that will be written in my planner, so that when I look at it the next morning, I know what I need to do that day.
Tip #4
TAKE BREAKS!
This one is important– just as important as the three I mentioned above. We are not machines. We are people with real brains and bodies that actually benefit when we get up from the desk and stretch out our muscles, move around a bit, drink some water, etc. There have been many time when I’ve come to a place in my WIP where I don’t know what to write next. Often, when that happens, I’ll get up from my desk, walk around my living room a bit, stretch, maybe even do a few dishes that are in the sink, and once I come back to my laptop, I’ve got an idea on where to go next with the story. Don’t get lost in thinking you absolutely have to fill each minute of the day with being productive. If you need to, go outside for a 15 minute walk, pause to play with your kids (if they’re home from school), do a short yoga video, just something to get your body moving and your mind off of work for at least a few minutes.
Tip #5
EAT!
This kind of goes along with the notion of taking breaks. Feeding yourself is important. I will often realize that one of the reasons I’m having trouble concentrating on the scene I’m trying to write or the emails I need to send, or whatever, is because I’m hungry. My body needs sustenance. It’s not a mistake that once I’ve eaten, my focus increases ten fold. With that being said, I start my day with a breakfast and halfway during the work day, I pause work to eat lunch. Also, I don’t write while eating. My lunches are typically no longer than 20 to 30 minutes, but during that time I not only fill up on nutrition, my mind has had a chance to relax and concentrate on something else, which makes it better able to focus once I get back to writing.
Tip #6
LEAVE WORK AT WORK.
Remember that designated working space that you’ve set up? Leave ALL your work right there. I promise you it will be there the next day when you get back to your desk/office/dining room table, etc. This is why having a dedicated work space is so important, once you move from that area, it allows you to mentally remind yourself that, you’re “leaving work” for the day. As an author who LOVES her career, I sometimes found it hard to separate working from just being at home. However, once I learned to set goals for the day and then be able to walk away once I hit those objectives, I found I was much more relaxed and ready to go the next day when it was time to start working again. Also, I rarely write/work on weekends. That is my time to spend with friends, family, get outdoors or just watch mindless TV. Whatever I enjoy. With that, I find myself excited on Sunday afternoons and evenings to be able to wake up the following day (Monday) and dive back into my writing. Even when you love and are passionate about your career, it’s important to find work-life balance.
Okay, those are my six tips on how to productively and successfully work from home. I hope you find them helpful, and again, I wish you all peace of mind, health, and well-being during this time.
Hello All,
You should know by now that when I’ve been silent, it’s because I’ve been working. My next release, No Coincidence, will feature two people you’ve met already, Connor (first appeared in Meant to Be) and Resha (first appeared in For Keeps). These two have been so fun to write. They’ve been bickering in my head for over a year now, so getting their story on paper has been a huge release. Anyway, here’s a sneak peek of what’s to come. I don’t have a release date just yet but they’re coming VERY soon! Enjoy!
****UNEDITED. SUBJECT TO CHANGE*****
Connor
Well this turned out to be an interesting turn of events. I thought as I watched her ass sway from one side to the other in the dark denim jeans she was wearing. I didn’t even bother hiding my ogling of her backside. I’d barely spoken a full sentence to her since I’d arrived but it was time to change that.
“Save a slice of cake for me, will ya’,” I told Josh without even looking before moving in the same direction as that ass.
“Don’t tell me …” he mumbled.
“Then I won’t,” I retorted before exiting his presence.
I’d been to Josh’s house before so I didn’t need any directions on how to find the bathroom, assuming, of course that’s where Resha went. I was right on the money when after only walking halfway down the long hall, I see none other than Resha exiting the bathroom door.
“Imagine running into you here, Pilar,” my words somehow came out on a growl.
Stunned, those dark, coffee eyes of hers widened and the full heart-shaped lips pinched before she spoke.
“Or is it Resha?” I questioned while folding my arms over my wide chest. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over her. Her skin held the deep cinnamon color that I remembered from our night together, however her oval face was bracketed by dark brown curls that were blonde at the tips. That night, her hair had been styled in a short, jet black bob that hadn’t even touched her shoulders. Naturally, I let my eyes dip lower to the leopard print sweater that silhouetted her ample breasts and stopped at the small waist. The jeans looked as if they were clinging for dear life as the hugged those bountiful thighs of hers.
“It’s both actually,” she finally answered with her chin lifted as if she’d one upped me somehow.
I approached, stepping closer, lifting an eyebrow, daring her to elaborate.
“My middle name is Pilar. My first name is Resha.”
I dropped my arms and nodded understanding. She hadn’t lied that night, not completely, when she’d told me her name was Pilar.
“And what are you doing here, Resha.” Nope, I didn’t miss the way the vein in her neck doubled in speed at my mentioning her name for the first time.
She took a step backwards only to be met by the closed door she’d just exited.
“Destiny is my cousin, not that it’s any of your business.”
“If it wasn’t my business you wouldn’t have answered me.”
Her eyes narrowed and I instantly recalled it was the same look she’d given me that night after I’d told her I was going to fuck her to sleep. Defiance. And I felt my body react to it the same way in which I was reacting that moment. Sheer determination.
“And what are you doing here, Connor?” She folded her arms over her breasts.
My eyes dipped before returning to meet her gaze again. “A good friend of mine invited me to his kid’s birthday party.” I added a one-sided shoulder shrug.
“You don’t seem like the type to make it a habit of attending kid’s parties. Or have many friends.”
I stepped even closer, crowding her space. “I’m pretty certain that was supposed to be some sort of insult on your part, but I don’t insult easily. How long you been celibate?”
She gasped and it pulled a chuckle from my lips. I had to keep going.
“Was that vow of celibacy taken before or after I fucked you to sleep in my hotel room?”
Another gasp. Her eyes were so large they looked as if they were ready to pop out of her head.
“What the–” she stopped and didn’t say anything further before using one hand to push at my shoulder, as she made her way around me and charged down the hallway.
Again, I watched the sway of her ass in those jeans. And try as she might to come across as genuinely offended, I spotted the quickening of her pulse and the way her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly.
“Resha Pilar …” I murmured, wondering what her last name was. Of course, I had my ways of finding out. I made a mental note to do just that as soon as I had the time.
Hello,
I’ve been silent recently because I’ve been working on my next release, which is coming VERY soon. If you’ve read Locked Doors (and you definitely should have. If not, click here.) then you’re familiar with Emilio’s younger brother, Christian and his interesting family background. Bella, will give more insight into who Christian is, how he even came to be, and most importantly, the woman he’s been in love with from afar for a long time. And just to whet your palettes a little, here’s a sneak peek from the couple. Enjoy!
****UNEDITED. SUBJECT TO CHANGE****
The first night …
Belle
“Oh my goodness! I can’t believe it’s almost four in the morning,” I whisper as we make our way down the hallway to my dorm room.
It’s been hours since I got into the back of Christian’s town car, leaving my father’s soiree and thoughts of animal cruelty by the aquarium far behind.
Anywhere you want, Bella.
My heartbeat kicked up a notch but I silently urged it to slow down. I wouldn’t tell him again that my name was Belle and not Bella. I’m pretty sure I’d made it clear, which only meant one thing. He was deliberately calling me beautiful all night. I only knew a few words in Italian and that was one of them.
“Is this the latest you’ve been out?” He questions low next to my ear, his arm wrapped around my waist.
I shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on my neck before nodding because words escape me right now.
His chuckle is deep but not mocking. He’s not laughing at me, I don’t think.
“Bene.”
“That means good, right?”
“Si.”
I dip my head and smile because he’s been inserting Italian into our conversations throughout the night. First, by calling me bella. Then when we made our way to the all-night movie drive-in, that I was certain he’d scoff at when I told him I’d want to attend, he would repeat some of the lines in Italian. Translating the famous here’s looking at you, kid in his native tongue for me, from my all-time favorite film, Casablanca.
And that was before he took me to an exclusive, genuine Italian restaurant, almost an hour outside of the city. I was stunned to find out the restaurant was open all night. But I think that was a lie. It was open for Christian all night, not regular patrons. He’d ordered in Italian, teaching me how to say my meal in the language it was meant to be said in.
“This is your room,” he says as we stop in front of room 348.
It doesn’t occur to me to ask how he knows this is my dorm room since I hadn’t said it, and I’m pretty sure he’s never been here before. Least of all, with me.
I turn to Christian, a heaviness settling over my chest at the realization that our evening has come to an end. I start to feel a little like what Cinderella must’ve felt at the stroke of midnight, but I don’t know why. Something tells me that whatever this night was, it is the last of it.
Christian’s eyes are cast downward but when he peers up to look directly at me, they are dark. Darker than I’ve ever seen them before.
“You will do well in veterinary school, Bella.”
I want to thank him but his words feel like too much of a goodbye and that absolutely shatters my heart.
“Maybe we can go to the movies again, sometime?” I question, holding out for a little bit of hope.
His lips pinch just before he shakes his head. “I will be leaving school soon. Finishing my courses from afar. I must return to Palermo for some time.”
And just before the heaviness overtakes the entirety of my body, crippling me, Christian’s lips find mine.
There is no hesitation on my part. This has been what my body has been craving ever since he first wrapped his arm around me, preventing me from falling outside of the aquarium.
What does surprise me is the sound that comes from the back of my throat as his lips moves over mine, his tongue invades my mouth and his hand moves to cup my backside. My brain becomes too unfocused and thought no longer rules my actions. Just feeling. Which is how the hold on my purse in my right hand slackens, dropping it to the floor, so that same hand is now free to move upwards until it reaches Christian’s hair. I sigh into his mouth because his hair is softer than I’d ever imagined. His lips possess me in a way that I never believed was even possible. And his hand on the back of my body, squeezing, is causing little pulses between my legs. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stand on my own two feet.
And just when I feel like my legs are going to give out, Christian releases me from the kiss.
I stumble backwards, thankfully, saved by the door behind me, holding me upwards. I’m too dizzy to manage on my own.
Christian doesn’t say anything as he stares down at me. Instead he stoops low, picking up my purse and handing it to me.
Slowly, I watch as my hand reaches out, taking my clutch even though my fingers are trembling.
“Ti sto guardando, ragazzo,” he says, tipping my chin and stepping back, giving me space I’m sure I need but certain I don’t want.
Here’s looking at you, kid.
My eyes begin to
water and Christian wordlessly turns his back to me, heading back down the
hallway, disappearing around the corner without a backwards glance.
Available on Amazon. Click here.
I’m broken.
I’m well aware of this singular fact of my life. Even as I stitch up patients, correcting their perceived imperfections, I know that there is no cosmetic surgery that will fix what’s broken inside of me. Which is why I don’t let anyone get too close. I learned early on, most people can’t be trusted. The ones who were entrusted with protecting you can do the most harm.
So I deal with life the only way I learned how. I fight. On the days when work gets to me, or the memories from my past become too much, I head to the Underground. A place where even a plastic surgeon such as myself, can let my guard down and give in to my base emotions. It works, for the most part.
But then in walks Grace.
She is the very embodiment of her name. A new nurse on the surgical unit. All bets are off. The sparks that fly between us don’t end once we exit the operating room. For the first time, I’m challenged to give in to the feelings I never believed myself capable, and all that comes with it, or push her away to save her from an ugly past I worked long and hard to forget.
Hello,
Remember the mysterious surgeon from Joshua Townsend’s underground fighting group? Well, his story has been in the works for some time and it’s coming SOON! Below is the cover for Jacob’s Song, along with a brief excerpt of what’s to come. Please enjoy this sneak peek into Jacob aka “Doc’s” book.
****Unedited. Subject to Change*****
Jacob
“You hit like a fucking pussy!” I derided the guy opposite me as we both circled one another inside the sixteen by sixteen foot ring. Our fists were tightly coiled, and save for the cloth wraps, around our knuckles and fingers there was little protection from the blows we rained on one another. That was the appeal, for me, at least.
“You’re fucking crazy, Doc!” Brick yelled in response.
The sardonic smile I’d already been wearing, grew in size.
“I know,” I growled before quickly spinning and sweeping Brick’s leg. A round of cheers from the onlookers could be heard behind me but I paid them no mind. I didn’t give a shit about the people watching this fight between Brick and I. All I cared about was the pain.
The pain of being hit so hard that it took my breath away.
Or the pain of landing the perfect punch against an opponent’s bone, so that the sensation bounced back and moved through my knuckles and up my arm, reaching my chest.
It was only once I began feeling that pain that the memories of the day began to fall away. It was only then that I was truly able to relax, a little, at least.
The physical pain was better than the memories.
Today, the memory that I couldn’t shake loose had been what happened in the OR. I’d been performing a simple breast lift on a patient. A second year resident joined me as part of his training. My first instinct had been to kick him out of the wash room when he entered with that stupid fucking, cocky ass grin on his face. But I opted to let him stay. After all, Memorial is one of the best teaching hospitals in the state. And despite going against my first instincts, I let the resident assist in a delicate process during the procedure. The dumb fucker ended up nicking one of the patient’s arteries.
Thus, a surgery that should’ve been rather simple and uncomplicated nearly turned deadly. All because I let a fucking resident join in. That was my fuck up. And that is what brought me to the Underground.
“Aw fuck!” Brick grunted when a fist of mine landed in his ribs.
“Feeling a little fleshy, Brick. Been eating good, huh?” I continued to taunt. It was a lie, however. Brick was just as solid as his Underground name indicated. The man was built like a goddamn brick wall. And whereas most guys with his size and build were rather slow, that wasn’t the case with Brick. He’d obviously been working on his agility. Which was why in the next second I found myself flat on my back, flailing as his large six-foot-six nearly two-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame came down on top of me.
Thankfully, I’d been expecting one of his infamous takedowns and hurriedly countered his move with one of my own. I managed to wiggle out of his hold and get my legs to wrap around his upper body. I could feel him struggling to get free from the inevitable but it was too late. My legs were soon wrapped tightly around his neck, squeezing the air from his body.
He pounded with one fist against my leg but the pain from his punches only invigorated me more. I knew I’d be covered in bruises tomorrow from this fight but the deep satisfaction I got from the pain was almost intoxicating.
“Let him up!” I heard Buddy yell from the side of the ring.
That’s what forced me to release Brick. When I did, I heard the gagging and coughing sounds as he fought inhale normally again.
“Shit!” Brick cursed once he finally got back on his feet. “Anyone ever tell you, you fight like that fucker Luke whatever the hell his name is, from the NFA?” Brick sputtered in between breaths just after he tapped knuckles to signal the end of the fight.
“I don’t watch the NFA. I don’t know who the fuck that is,” I gruffly answered, quickly dismissing his comment and turning to head out of the ring.
“You look like him a little, too,” Brick yelled behind me.
I paused and turned back to him, narrowing my eyes at him. I swore I caught something glinting in his eyes. As if he wanted to say more but chose not to.
I spun on my heels and headed for the changing room. I moved through the throng of guys clamoring to pat my back after a fight or angling to convince Buddy to let them in the ring for a fight of their own.
I didn’t stay to find out who was entering the ring next. I’d gotten what I’d came here for. Relief.
That was all I ever sought most nights in this place that to the outside world looked like an abandoned building. But to the men who gathered here two to three nights out of the week, we knew it was more. It was a place where most of us chose to let our demons out so we wouldn’t unleash them on the rest of the world.
“Good fight, Reynolds,” I heard from behind me as I redressed in the pair of dark jeans and t-shirt, I’d worn to the Underground that night.
I stood up to my full six-foot-two height, which still caused me to be about three inches shorter than the man standing opposite me.
“Connor,” I nodded but didn’t bother to reply to his initial comment. He never called me by my Underground name which was Doc, for obvious reasons. Most of the men down here were professionals with our own careers or businesses. But like I said, everyone needed some sort of outlet to release the bullshit of the day.
“You get what you needed?”
I nodded while also throwing the strap of my gym bag over my shoulder. “I always do,” I answered as I moved past Connor and through the door of the changing room to take me out into the main area again. I could feel Connor’s eyes on my back but he didn’t say anything else. As the co-organizer of this underground fighting ring, he was sort of the Godfather of the guys down here, I supposed. But not mine. I didn’t need a fucking father figure or anyone else to oversee me.
I exited the main door and hopped into my dark colored Range Rover to make the twenty minute drive back to my condo. However, once I arrived and pulled into my parking spot in the closed in garage, I wasn’t ready to head upstairs just yet.
I still had the energy from the fight coursing through my veins and that did not make for a good night’s sleep. Thus, instead of heading toward the elevator to the twelfth floor of my building, I headed for the stairs that led to the open sidewalk. I continued to walk aimlessly for a while. I ended up approximately ten blocks from where I started, on a street that was lined with bars and a few restaurants that converted to lounges this late in the evening.
Most of the doors of the nightclubs and bars were open, seeking to lure people inside. The giggles and cheers of the patrons inside each of the bars turned my fucking stomach. I didn’t like being in large groups of people. Hell, I didn’t like most people in general. So, I opted to keep walking, with no intentions of stopping inside any of the clubs. There was a bar at the end of this street that was usually pretty quiet. Every time I’d been inside there had only been a handful of other patrons. I wondered how they stayed open, but the beers were cold and that’s all I needed.
Just as I was passing one of the newer lounges on the street, my feet stopped moving. All on their own. I found myself, turning to look inside the lounge. Of course, the lights were low, making it difficult to fully see inside but the sound coming from the center stage is what pulled me closer.
Before I could tell what was happening, I entered the lounge as if I was being pulled in. The smooth, soft sound of the voice coming from the front of the room held the entire audience captive. She wasn’t belting out the song but the way her vocal cords wrapped around every single note, as if they were her own little playthings to dance over, held all of our rapt attention. And I hadn’t even seen her face yet. Once I did, it was as if I’d been punched in the gut.
“Grace,” I whispered, saying her name for the first time.
She was no longer dressed in those electric blue scrubs all the nurses wore. This Grace was dressed in a skintight, black mini dress that stopped inches above her knee. The dress was sleeveless and the lights on the stage perfectly reflected off the tawny brown skin of hers. Those hickory eyes were enhanced by the dark eyeshadow she wore, and her heart shaped lips were lined in a blood red color. This wasn’t Nurse Young on stage.
This was a woman singing on stage, begging her lover not to judge her. Her voice was cooing in a way that wasn’t a turnoff, which I didn’t understand how that was even possible. She swayed her perfect hips in time with the music, slowly and hauntingly. The heels on her feet gave an additional four inches to her five-foot-six height. I took every inch of her body in. From the top of her head, noting the bouncy curls that hung around her shoulders, to the smooth tops of her perfectly formed shoulders, over her collarbones, down to her perfectly sized breasts that were adequately outlined by the tight dress. The way her small waist gave way to her hips reminded me of the images patients would often bring to my office asking if I could make them look like this model or that one.
This woman had a body my patients paid thousands of dollars for. And I would bet dollars to donuts she hadn’t spent any time on a surgeon’s table to earn it.
Somehow, I found myself much closer to the stage than I’d anticipated. Luckily, I was able to get ahold of myself within seconds of her finishing the song. I backed away from the stage, not wanting to take my eyes off of her until the very last moment. She didn’t see me due to the fact that she was busy bowing and receiving hugs from some of the band members on the stage. I took that opportunity to slip out the same door that’d allowed me entrance.
I shook my head as I turned and reversed my steps to carry myself back to my home. I don’t know how long it took to get back because I was too busy replaying every second of Grace’s performance in my head. Whenever I came to the end, it was almost like I’d hit the rewind button and replayed the tape all over again. I did that over and over until I made it home, making it inside.
I pressed my back against the door, closing my eyes and again she was there, crooning her fucking heart out. She’d kept me hypnotized so much so that the surgery from earlier, the Underground, and everything else fell away. But she’d held my attention from the first moment I laid eyes on her. It was the way she looked at me. She didn’t show signs of fear that other women had. Even women who I’d dated in the past, had tried to get me to open up to them, I refused because I could see the fear in their eyes. They’d never say as much, but I saw it. The storm clouds I often found staring me back in the mirror in my eyes, the emotions that sent me to the Underground to fight, my off-putting demeanor, struck fear in them.
But not Grace.
I found myself smirking as I remembered the stubborn way, she lifted her chin at me in defiance. How she mouthed back when I put her on the spot in the OR. She wasn’t afraid of me and that pulled me to her just as much as her siren voice had pulled me to the stage in that lounge.
“Fucking pull it together,” I growled at myself starting to feel pissed off. I’d taken a walk to work out the energy from fighting only to return with a different type of energy moving through me.
Good morning,
If you’ve read Emanuel’s Heat by now you’ve been introduced to some members of the Genovese Family. Locked Doors, will be the first book in this series about this special family. And this will be my FIRST website exclusive series. Locked Doors will be coming VERY soon. As usual, I will be sending out the first chapter of the book the day before it releases via my newsletter. To sign up, click here. For now, here is a short excerpt from the book. Enjoy!
****Unedited. Subject to Change****
Emilio
“We have a problem.” It’s Matteo. He is the one who has been sent to inform me of whatever the issue at hand is.
Slowly, I pivot my attention from the stage to my left, glaring at Matteo. “What kind of a problem?”
“A witness problem.”
I grit my teeth. The stress that had just begun to seep out of my body returns in full force.
“I can handle it—”
My hand slices through the air. “If you could’ve handled it you wouldn’t be here right now.” I cut my eyes away from Matteo and return my gaze to the stage, pausing for a moment. A half a minute later, I am up on my feet, following Matteo to where this problem is now located.
He makes his way down the long hall I just walked up not more than fifteen minutes prior, passing through the first set of double doors, and holding the second set open for me to walk through. Across the room I peer over at his twin brother, Lorenzo, holding the exit door open.
Without a word I pick up my stride, meeting Lorenzo before stepping outside into the night air. There are two town cars parked in this back alleyway. Doing a quick appraisal of the situation, I see my normal driver. I move toward the back of the first town car and can see clearly thanks to the lights of the vehicles.
It’s her.
The woman from the coffee shop.
Leo is holding her from behind, his large hand covering her mouth. Her eyes are filled with terror.
“So this is the problem?”
“We don’t know how she got in here. I could snap her neck right now,” Leo says in Italian.
I move closer, glowering down at the woman.
“Move your hand,” I order in my mother tongue.
His hand lowers.
The woman looks around before licking her lips. My eyes follow the motion of her pink tongue as it moves across her bottom lip.
“Pl-please, I-I didn’t see anything. I won’t tell anyone. I-I’m supposed to b-be leaving Palermo tomorrow,” she pleads.
Something in me stirs. I hate begging and yet I want to hear more of her voice.
I let my eyes graze the entirety of her body from head to toe before returning to her face. The long, black dress doesn’t obscure the fullness of her frame. She’s tall in the heels she’s wearing—only falling two inches shorter than my six-foot-three height. Her skin is a tawny brown color, and the nervous way she keeps biting her lip with fear still in her hazel eyes, pulls at something deep inside my gut.
“D-Do you speak English?” she questions. “I c-couldn’t even communicate with the p-police. I w-won’t tell.”
She has just sealed her fate and she doesn’t even realize it. Americans. They talk too much.
“What is your name?” I question in English.
Her eyelids rise and she shakes her head.
“What. Is. Your. Name?” I demand more forcefully.
“L-Lydia.”
The tremble in her voice calls to me. I run my hand over the stubble along my lower jaw.
“Lydia,” I repeat, savoring every syllable of her name.
I nod, and without another word look over her shoulder to Leo. “Gag her and place her in the backseat. We’re going to the compound.”
Removing a handkerchief from his pocket, Leo stuffs it into her mouth. She squirms and tries to scream but it is useless. I turn and head to the second town car while Leo, the woman, and Lorenzo pile into the first one. Matteo gets in on the reverse side, and a minute later we are pulling off, out of the alley, away from the theater, for the fifteen minute drive back to the compound.
The third book in my Rescue Four Series is now available on Amazon. Click here to pick up your copy today.
Hello All,
I hope you’re ready for more HOT firefighters because they’re coming! Up next is Emanuel. If you’ll remember waaay back to Carter’s Flame, Emanuel is the new firefighter in town and he’s coming to Rescue Four to heat things up. Below is the cover and an excerpt from the upcoming book. I do not have a release date as of yet but it will be SOON! (Super soon!).
EXCERPT FROM EMANUEL’S HEAT.
***Unedited. Subject to change***
“How many days do you have left in Cabo, Nadine?” I question as soon as our waitress walks away.
“Three.”
“Give them to me.”
Those umber pupils of hers bulge at my request, no not a request, a command. One I hadn’t intended on giving until the words left my mouth.
“Give them to you? What does that even mean?”
“It means, the women you were with have all gone, you didn’t come with anyone else, and I’m guessing you’re not expecting anyone else to be arriving. You’re free to spend your time as you please. Give me your time.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re wrapped tighter than a spring coil. And with just the right amount of pressure you’ll spring loose. You’re just waiting for the right man to crawl in between those slick thighs of yours and show you exactly who you are. You’re waiting for the right man to set you free, butterfly.”
She shifts in her chair, gaze lowered to the table as she reaches for her half empty glass of watermelon juice again. Once she swallows she says, “Do you use this type of pickup line with all the women you meet in foreign countries?”
“Only when the mood strikes me,” I retort, grinning.
My chest warms when her face again registers shock. I sit back and pick up my fork and knife cutting into my omelet and taking my first bite. I’m confident before she even says anything that she’ll be spending the final three days of her vacation with me. And to be totally honest, I don’t know who is more surprised by this, her or me. I’m not the committed type, nor am I the type of spend more than a day or two with the same woman while on vacation.
“What do you have planned?” She finally questions.
A smile crests my lips. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
She shakes her head and turns fully to me. “If I’m going to give my final three days of vacation to a random man, I need to know what’s on the agenda.”
“Agenda? I bet you’re the type to plan out your entire vacation hour by hour.”
“What’s wrong with that?” The crease in her forehead displays her genuine perplexity.
I shrug and lean in, letting my gaze travel over the smooth skin covering her collarbone and chest. Slowly, I let my gaze rise to meet hers. “Nothing if you want predictability. But if you want adventure you need to be amenable to change.”
Her lips part slightly. She’s measuring her next words. “I’m new to adventure, Emanuel.”
My name on her lips for some reason, pushes my heart against my damn ribcage. Something hot stirs in my lower abdomen.
“I’m the perfect man to do some exploring with.”
“Then what’s on the agenda?” She questions again.
I let out a chuckle.
“What had you had in mind for the next few days?”
I’m not all that surprised when she pulls out a planner from the over the shoulder bag she’s carrying. She lists off a glass bottom boat tour, hike of a local canyon to a waterfall, and she even scheduled in “relaxing time” by the pool or at the beach.
“The hike and boat tour can definitely be added to the agenda. But let me surprise you with a few other additions to this list.”
Her eyes narrow on me, contemplating. “You’ll have me back home by midnight?” She teases.
I shake my head. “Hell no.”
She giggles. “Okay,” she finally responds.
Her agreeance
settles something in my chest. As if I’d needed it to be able to fully enjoy
the rest of my time here in Cabo before my cousin’s wedding.
Hello All,
I am currently working on Robert and Deborah Townsend’s novel. The manuscript is in the revision/editing stages, which means, I think it’s time to give you all a sneak peek of what’s to come! This couple was too dynamic and intriguing to just let their story bypass. Also, the Townsend’s have all types of secrets, many of which will be revealed in this book. I say that to say, don’t think this is the last you’ll see of them 😉
Now, without further ado, the sneak peek!
****Unedited. Subject to changes****
“You know, I hated you at first.”
I grinned as my eyes fluttered shut when Robert leaned down, the small hairs of the short beard he’d recently let grow out, brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck, as he pressed a kiss there. I sighed, again, becoming enveloped by the smell of lavender and nutmeg from his L’occitan Eau De Toilette cologne. The only fragrance he’d worn since I first bought it for him as a Christmas present years ago.
“You didn’t hate me.” He pressed another kiss to my neck, causing me to shiver. Even after all these years he still had that effect on me. He braced my shoulders with his large hands, turning me to face him.
I stared up into his dark eyes.
“You couldn’t stand how I made you feel.”
And because, naturally, he was correct, I angled my head, lifting my chin. He lowered his head, our lips meeting in the middle. I was expecting a short, sweet kiss, but nothing was short or simple with Robert Townsend. His lips parted as he used his tongue to separate my lips, deepening the kiss. Luckily, before we got too carried away, I pulled back.
“You thought you knew me,” I stated, going back to our original dialogue.
His pink lips parted on a smirk. The same cocky grin he’d given me after that world mythologies class, decades earlier.
“I did know you, maybe not every detail, but from the first moment you parted those sleek thighs and let me slip inside you, you’ve been mine. Every. Single. Part. Of. You.”
“Aw, c’mon! We don’t need to hear that shit!”
I laughed as Robert’s eyes narrowed and he spun around to face our third youngest son, Joshua. I giggled even harder seeing the disgusted look on Joshua’s face as his green eyes shifted between his father and I.
“Leave them alone, Josh. It’s so adorable how in love they still are after all these years.”
That was my third daughter-in-law, Kayla, Joshua’s wife.
I watched as Joshua shifted his gaze from us, down to his wife, at his side and his eyes softened. My heart shifted in my chest. Just like his father, Joshua wore his love for his wife on his sleeve. All of my boys did.
“Destiny’s on the phone finding out the delivery time for the computers,” Carter, our oldest son, chimed in, pushing his way past Joshua, as he entered the conference room we’d been standing in.
The room was mostly empty, save for a few office chairs and lots of empty cardboard boxes.
My stomach grumbled as soon as the scent of the pizzas Carter carried hit my nose.
“Lunch is served,” he stated, setting the three boxes of pizza on the one desk in the room.
One by one, the rest of our children began piling in.
“What was Josh so pissed about?” Carter asks at the same time, handing his wife, Michelle a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it, before holding out a chair for her to sit.
I smiled at how chivalrous all my boys were.
“Your brother was upset because I was about to remind him of how sexy your father still is.”
In unison all four of our sons, Carter, Aaron, Joshua and Tyler, groaned in horror. Each of their faces a display of disgust, as their wives giggled.
Tyler, our youngest, who happened to be holding one of his own children, covered his daughter, Annalise’s ears. “There are children around!” He stated, with narrowed eyes looking between Robert and I.
“You nor your child would be here if it weren’t for us, so can it,” I admonished, just before Robert moved past me to pluck our granddaughter out of Tyler’s arms. Anna, as I called her, giggled as Robert tickled her little belly.
A second later, Tyler’s wife, Destiny, entered the conference room, hanging up the phone. “Computers will be delivered in an hour and cable and internet company will be out first thing tomorrow morning to get us all connected,” she stated, excitedly.
“Good news,” I responded, handing Destiny, who reminded me of a younger version of the actress, Nia Long, a slice of pizza.
“Thank you,” she gushed. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
At that, Tyler frowned. “Why the hell not?” His voice darkening from the lighthearted tone he’d expressed just a minute earlier.
Destiny rolled her eyes, before looking up at her football player husband. “Because we have three children under the age of one, I run my own company, and my sisters and mother-in-law have been working our butts off to open this new women’s shelter. In other words, I’ve been a little busy.”
“We have a damn chef just to make sure this doesn’t happen.”
“Lay off her, Ty,” I interjected, knowing how possessive and controlling my sons could be. They learned it from their father.
“He’s right, princess.”
I roll my own eyes at Robert’s words. I knew he’d take Tyler’s side.
“All of you ladies have been busy working your asses off to get this project off the ground, but you need to take care of yourselves first.”
“Thank you, Father,” Tyler agreed.
“Robert-”
“Don’t Robert me. Did you have breakfast this morning before you left the house?”
I looked to Tyler. “See what you started?”
“See?” Destiny chimed in. “Now you’re causing a rift between your parents. Happy with yourself now?”
“He’s right,” Our second oldest son, Aaron chimed in, causing, his wife, Patience to roll her eyes.
“Let it go, Destiny, you’re not going to win this argument with these four. Aaron practically force feeds me if it’s past ten in the morning and I haven’t eaten.”
Aaron with his ever present scowl, simply looked down at his wife and shrugged because what else could he say? Everyone in the room new Patience was telling the truth.
A frowning Destiny finally decided to drop is and continue eating.
“Deb, did you know Robert was the one when you first met?” Michelle, asked once we were about halfway through eating our lunch.
Robert turned to me, giving me the same smoldering look he’d been giving me for forty years and nodded.
“Of course.”
“Psh, don’t believe him,” I responded, looking between our children and two of our now ten grandchildren. The rest were back at our home with three nannies and two babysitters between the eight of them.
“No, princess didn’t realize I was the one. But I knew early on.”
“Oh, we all know the story,” Carter added, causing us all to glance his way. “You both met in college, fell in love, and the rest is history.”
Robert and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
“History, hunh?” Robert questioned.
“You’ve told us the story, Father,” Aaron added.
“You got the abridged version, son. Maybe it’s time we tell them the full story,” Robert stated, staring at me.
I lifted my eyebrows and shrugged. I looked at our children whose faces had shifted to ones of curiosity instead of impatience.
“I don’t see why
not.”
Happy 2019!
I know it’s been a while. I hope your holidays and New Year went well. 2018 was a banner year for me as an author and it’s not stopping in 2019! So, even though I’ve been quiet around here for a little bit, I’ve still been working. The first change you can see is the layout of my website. I decided an update was needed. I’m also planning some more things for my website coming in the next few months, but that’s another story for another time. Right now, I’m here to drop a preview of my next book!
Coming up next are Damon and Sandra in Just Say the Word. You may remember Damon and Sandra from Meant to Be (Joshua and Kayla’s story.). I truly enjoyed diving into the story of these two and learning who they were as individuals and as a couple. With that said, here’s a sneak peek of one of their first encounters. I do not have a release date as of yet, but I am hoping it will be before the end of February. Also, cover reveal coming soon. Now, without further delay, your sneak peek:
******Unedited. Subject to Change******
Pushing thoughts of six-foot-three, mahogany skin toned, solid framed men out of my head, I turned the key to start my car and … nothing. I tried again and that time a little noise sounded before it died.
“No, no, no,” I whined, trying again.
Nothing.
She was dead.
I started to lower my head to the steering wheel when a knock on the driver’s side window scared the living daylights out of me.
I turned and my throat instantly went dry.
With his large hand he pointed in a downward motion indicating he wanted me to lower my window. With a shaky hand I used the lever to lower the window.
“Need some help?”
Oh god. How could a man’s voice be smooth as silk but laced with steal at the same time?
My gaze trailed from his full lips that were a shade darker than his mahogany skin, to the dark hairs of his beard, up to his, noticing, not for the first time that while both were brown, they were different colors. The left eye was the color of coffee, while the right eye was the color of warm honey. Raw, unfiltered honey, not the fake stuff sold at most grocery chains.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly.
“Your car.” He motioned with his head to my vehicle. “Won’t start?”
I turned my head as if taking notice of my vehicle, the one I was sitting in and had owned for the last ten years, for the first time.
“N-no.”
“You need a jump?”
“Y-ye-No … Huh?” Where was all my good sense?
“For your car. Do you need a jump? Do you have jumper cables?”
I blinked and came back to myself. “No. It’s not the battery.” I knew because I’d just gotten a new one a few months earlier.
“Then it’s something else. I don’t know much about cars, but I know a couple of mechanics who could tow you out of here to their shop. Unless you have one of your own?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. But I really just need to get to work. I’ll just catch an Uber and find a tow truck once I get back.” That, of course, relied on whether or not Kayla and Joshua minded my car taking up space in their driveway.
I sighed.
This was a mess.
Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of air. I turned and realized my car door had been opened.
“Kayla and Joshua won’t mind your car hanging out here for a few hours. No need for an Uber. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” And without another word, he was holding out his hand nearly identical to the way he’d held it out to me when he’d asked me to dance at Kayla and Joshua’s wedding reception.
Placing my much smaller hand in his for the second time felt just like it had the first time. Perfect.
I stepped out. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have other things to do. I can just get an Uber and then be on my way.” I started digging around my bag for my phone. Anything to avoid looking in his eyes. “I’ll just phone work and let them know I’ll be a few minutes later than I’d intended. I’m sure it will be okay. I might have to stay a little later than I expected. Monique might be a little miffed about that but-”
“Put your phone away.”
And just like that my little rant was cut short. My belly fluttered at the subtleness of his command. And despite the lightness of his voice it was a command.
“I’ll take you. Your car is fine where it is.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t even realized I’d voiced my concerns out loud. Unless this man was a mind reader? Then I was in serious trouble.
Get real, Sandra, I admonished. People weren’t mind readers. I just wore my emotions on my sleeve. Always had.
“Thank you,” I stated since that was the only thing that seemed to fit at that moment.
“No problem,” he responded while moving to pull out a key fob from his dark jeans.
A second later I heard the distinctive sounds of car doors unlocking. Damon strolled—the man didn’t walk, he strolled, over to the BMW I’d originally thought belonged to Joshua and opened the passenger side door for me to get in.
I swallowed and told my pacing heart to chill out.
He’s safe.
I reminded myself as I got in the car. According to Kayla, Damon and Joshua had been friends for years. She trusted him. I tried to let that knowledge guide my decision-making as I lowered myself into the vehicle. But trust was difficult to come by. I flinched a little when the car door closed and Damon’s long legs carried him around the front of the car to the driver’s side.
“Where to?” He asked as he started the car.
I turned, feeling captivated by this thick beard. I briefly wondered if he moisturized it like I’d seen some men do on YouTube videos. Coconut oil. He definitely used coconut oil, at least. The shimmer of the hairs in the beard told me so.
“Sandra?”
“Huh?”
“Where are we going?”
Anywhere you want.
“Oh, uh, Mansfield, Duval, & Mason Attorneys at Law. The address is …” I paused as I dug through my tote bag for my wallet. I always forgot the actual address of my company.
“Don’t bother. I know exactly where that is.”
“Thank you,” I stated, my gaze straight ahead as we pulled out of Joshua and Kayla’s driveway. My bag was clutched tightly to my lap.
“You say that a lot, huh?”
My eyes shifted to the left to peer over at him. I tried to stop it, but my head followed, obviously needing a better look at the specimen that sat next to me.
“Say what?”
“Thank you. That’s the second time you’ve thanked me in like five minutes. I also heard you thank Kayla and Joshua at least twice. And that was only what I heard before you sprinted out the door.”
I could’ve sworn that last sentence held a tiny amount of accusation behind it. As if he was suggesting I was running from him.
Well, he was right.
But I would never admit it out loud.
“I like to show my gratitude when people are kind to me or go out of their way on my behalf.” Lord knows, there hadn’t been many throughout my life.
“Mm,” was his response.
I wrinkled my forehead wanting to ask what that meant but I kept my mouth shut. The less talking the better. The more we talked the bigger the possibility I might do something stupid like develop a crush on this man or something. I was certain he was just being kind to a friend of his friend. Same as for the wedding. I’d believed his asking me to dance and what I’d thought was watching me throughout the evening. Those suspicions were put to rest when I watched him leave with another woman who was the total opposite of myself.
“So, you’re a lawyer?”
His question pulled me from my thoughts which was good since they were starting to veer off into resentment territory. Which was silly since he wasn’t anything to me.
“No. Paralegal.”
“That’s cool. You like it?”
“I do.”
“What do you like about it?”
“Researching. That’s one of my favorite aspects of the job.”
“Working Saturdays doesn’t bother you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t usually work weekends. We’re working a big case and possibly taking on another.”
Damon nodded. “Which lawyer do you work for?”
“I work for more than one but Emma Leslie is who I’m working a couple of cases with.”
“I’ve heard of her.”
I wondered how but again, opted to mind my business. However, in the interest of not being rude I decided to say, “Kayla tells me you’re involved in real estate?”
“That and more,” he responded.
I wanted to ask what he meant by more but his cell phone beeped and soon was wringing through the speakers in the car. I glanced at the display and read the name “Scarlet.” I thought back trying to remember the name of the woman he’d left with the night of Kayla and Josh’s wedding. Was it Scarlet? From what I recalled that woman had been as sultry as her name indicated.
Like I said, nothing like me.
I ran my hands down my thighs smoothing out imaginary wrinkles of my dark denim. Weekends were the only time I wore jeans. But to keep it as professional as I could, I’d paired the jeans with my white, ribbed turtleneck and my Badgley Mischka crystal pointy toe flats, that I’d managed to score for less than half the retail price, at my favorite online thrift store that sold high end names. That morning I hadn’t had any problems with my outfit but as I sat next to Damon, I started to regret not wearing my usual high heels to the office, giving my five-foot-one frame more height. At least when I stood.
I was so caught up in my own head, I hadn’t even realized Damon had sent the caller to voicemail. Probably not wanting me to overhear a private conversation with his lover.
“We’re almost there. Do you need a ride back?”
“No. I’ll just catch an Uber or something. Hopefully by then I’ll have the name of a mechanic I can send it to get checked over.”
“I can do that for you.”
My eyelids raised. “Why?” I blurted out.
Deep creases formed in Damon’s forehead as he looked at me questioningly. I realized how accusatory my question had been.
“I mean, you don’t have to. Really. I can find someone-”
“Who’ll probably try to rip you off.”
My mouth snapped shut. He was right. I had enough experiences with mechanics to have been scammed a time or two, or five.
“My friend owns an auto shop and a dealership. Worse comes to worse, he can help you out with a great deal on a new car.”
I swallowed and looked down at my hands in my lap. I should’ve been grateful for Damon’s help. I was. But I was also just a touch … embarrassed. I was sure the car we were driving in was a 2018 model, if not newer, and was much more advanced and in better shape than my run down eighteen-year-old vehicle. It made me suspect that maybe Damon thought I needed help, especially since I had a kid. In other words, he felt sorry for me. That stung.
“We’re here. You sure you don’t need a ride back home?”
“N-no,” I blurted out, fear rising up my throat. I blinked and shook my head.
Calm down, Sandra.
The man was just offering a ride.
“I meant, thank you but no. I’ll give my mother a call and she can come get me,” I lied.
“You mother?”
“Yes.” I answered nodding my head but avoiding eye contact as I reached for the door handle. I rushed to get out of the car that was pulled up in front of my office’s main entrance, so fast that I didn’t even realize Damon had gotten out as well. Just as I affixed myself to stand upright, he was there, holding the door open for me.
I swallowed as my eyes made contact with his broad chest. Even through the dark sweater he wore, I could tell what lie beneath that cashmere material was solid enough to bounce a quarter off of.
“Thank y-”
“That’s the second time in the last sixty seconds. Don’t thank me again.”
I clenched my lips feeling admonished.
His body brushed past mine as he leaned down shutting the car door. The whiff of cologne I got filled my nostrils with a smell of strength, cardamom, and spice. A smell I knew was only written into this man’s DNA, not whatever bottle he’d used. I remembered it from our one and only dance.
“Well, you enjoy your day,” I stated, taking a couple of steps backwards. I bit my tongue to keep from thanking him yet again.
“You also.” He nodded in my direction but thankfully didn’t move any closer.
I stood there for a few seconds too long, making it awkward. At least, with another person it would’ve been awkward, but Damon simply stared at me, patiently waiting for me to turn and head inside. Those different colored eyes were hooded, unreadable which made him especially intriguing. A second later he ran a strong hand down the right side of his face and through his beard.
That was when I finally got my brain to communicate with the rest of my body. It was time to go into work.
I gave a small smile through shaky lips and turned, nearly stumbling over my own two feet. I ambled toward the door, inhaling and feeling deeply grateful that my nose wasn’t filled with the smell of his any longer. Grateful yet yearning at the same time. He wasn’t good for me. There probably wasn’t a man alive who was, but Damon Richmond sure as hell wasn’t it.
And he’s just as ruthless and alpha as his three brothers 😉 . Excerpt below.
*****Unedited. Subject to change.*****
“Team, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine, Ms. Destiny McDonald. Ms. McDonald is a certified financial advisor with years of …”
The coach’s words again fell by the wayside as I took her in. She was little, probably around five foot three but the heels she wore gave her at least three or more inches. The white and black polka dot silk blouse she wore, stopped right at her waist, revealing the curves of her hips. Her mahogany skin held a healthy glow and her oval face stood out thanks to the short haircut she wore. The was beautiful. For the first time since entering the lecture hall I regretted not sitting closer to the front of the room. Her physical beauty was only heightened by the fact that as Coach McClellan talked she stared around the room, hands clasped in front of her, completely unintimidated by the fifty or so sweaty jocks in the room. Including the team’s players there were about fifteen on our coaching staff. That meant in a room of close to seventy men, she was the only female in the room, and she held her ground, staring at and studying every single one.
When her dark brown eyes finally connected with mine, my gut clenched again. My fist tightened and a sensation I’d never felt started at the top of my head and moved through my entire being. Her gaze lingered on me for just a second longer than she’d intended. I don’t know how I knew that but I did and it caused a grin to open up on my face.
“I expect you all to give Ms. McDonald your full attention,” Coach McClellan finished up saying.
She took a step forward and her perfectly plump lips that were coated with a clear gloss opened slightly, preparing to speak. I leaned in, needing to hear her voice for the first time but she was cut off.
Immediately, I grew annoyed and agitated when instead of a feminine voice, I heard “What the hell can this bi-” the voice paused as the woman at the head of room raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, daring him to finish that word. “…female teach anyone of us about money? Was that your ten year old Honda Civic I pulled up next to in the parking lot?” Leonard Riggs asked before breaking out into a round of laughs. Snickers from around the room began to join in as well.
The tops of my ears began to heat up with the anger that’d come from nowhere grew in my belly. I shot a death glare in Leonard’s direction. That kid needed to be shut up. He was just beginning his second season in the league as our team’s cornerback and he had a mouth on him that needed to be closed. That moment just solidified for me that I’d be the one to shut it, eventually.
But before I or Coach McClellan could respond to Leonard’s statement, the Ms. McCloud–I hadn’t caught her first name, too caught up in staring at her when coach had first said it, held out her hand, warning coach off. She stepped forward.
“Yes, Mr. Riggs that is my ten year old Honda Civic you so lovingly parked your Bugatti next too. I would’ve thought my Honda was more your speed since it’s foreign and all. Isn’t that what your rap star friends always tote? Having foreign cars? But,” she moved even closer to Riggs, stepping up one than the second stair. “… unlike your leased Bugatti and your friends’ vehicles, my Civic is both foreign and paid off. Do you know what that means, Mr. Riggs?” She paused.
“Nah, what?” Leonard challenged.
“It means that over the last six years I’ve had my car, that three hundred dollars that would’ve went to car payments went to my investment accounts instead. Along with the other funds I’ve saved in costs for higher car insurance deductibles, gas and more. And over the course of the last six years, I’ve more than quadrupled my net worth by not spending on extravagant, luxury items that depreciate as soon as they’re driven off the lot. And do you know what that means, Mr. Riggs?” She paused again.
No answer.
“It means, that I could stop working tomorrow and never have to worry about having a roof over my head or about where my next meal is coming from. And that, is what this female can teach you about money.” She stared at Leonard for another second before moving back to the front of the room. “Now,” she clapped her hands, looking at the rest of us with a heart-stopping smile on her face. “Are there anymore questions?”
A banging sound sounded as my back bumped against the seat behind me. I was, quite literally, knocked over. I stared at the tiny, slip of a woman that had just stunned our entire football team and coaching staff into silence. I was pretty sure my fate had been sealed in that one moment. When I finally tugged my gaze from her face to peer up at the screen behind her, I knew. Emblazoned across the screen was her name, title and picture. Destiny McDonald, Certified Financial Advisor.
Destiny indeed.
If you haven’t heard, Joshua Townsend is now available on Amazon! Click here to purchase.
Joshua
“It’s about fucking time,” I declared, pushing past Brutus and the police officer that was accompanying him, into the concrete basement at Townsend Industries. We were on the ground floor of the Townsend building and Brutus had finally secured a meet between me and James fucking Cunningham.
“What the hell is going on? I was supposed to be taken to a different facility. What is this?” James demanded as soon as he saw me push through the door. His eyes shifted nervously to the officer behind me.
As soon as my gaze landed on his fucking face, an anger like no other rose from the pit of my stomach. The expression on Kay’s face when I first saw her in the police station came to mind. She’d had a wide-eyed terror stricken look in her face, but was doing her best to keep her composure. I wouldn’t let that slide.
Without saying a word, I charged over to James who stood about two inches taller than I. I slammed my open palm into his neck, causing him to immediately go down, gasping for air.
“Hey! You said this was just going to be a talk!”
“Shut him the fuck up!” I growled to Brutus behind me, directing him to take care of the officer. “Get out!”
“I-I can’t leave you alone with—”
“Come with me, Officer Venetti. Don’t worry …” I heard Brutus tell the officer as he pushed him out of the door, closing it behind him.
I held my glare on James who was still trying desperately to breathe. Moving closer, I stooped low. “You’re not dying … yet.”
He struggled to speak, still barely able to suck in are as he clutched his hands to his neck. His eyes were wide and tear filled, a look of terror in them. The same one Kay had in her eyes that night. The look in James’ eyes, however, brought me a sense of satisfaction, instead of rage.
“That hit wasn’t for trying to rob my place or set my company up. That was for scaring the hell out of my lady. For holding a gun on her.” I clenched my fists at the thought of a gun being pointed at Kay. But I had to control my anger in order to get the information I needed. “You know I could make it so your body would never be found.”
His eyes, which were already wide, doubled in size.
“I’m a fighter, James. But not a killer. Not most of the time, anyway. Only a few things would make me end a man’s life. You fuck with my family, my business, or my woman. Even in business I can tolerate a lot more than if you were to fuck with my woman. You did that by holding a gun to her face. I just want you to understand it when I say, I have no problems taking your life here and now, before I ask you these next few questions. Are we clear?”
I paused, waiting for him to agree. Once he nodded, I continued.
“Good. Who is behind the set-up?” I got straight to the point.
“I don’t kn—” He couldn’t finish his sentence before my hand was wrapped around his neck, squeezing, tightly.
“Remember my warning,” I seethed through clenched teeth. “Please do, test me on it. Please do,” I taunted, squeezing his neck tighter.
“Okay, okay,” he wheezed out, holding his hands up. “A g-guy came to me a few days after you f-fired me.”
“What guy, James?”
“He said his name was Tim. He showed up out of nowhere on my doorstep. Said he was with the Better Business Bureau, at first, and they were doing research on Townsend Real Estate’s unfair treatment of employees. I told him how I’d just been fired.”
“Which he undoubtedly knew already. Keep going.”
“He just wanted to know my story. I told him. Then a week or so later, he calls, says he has a proposition for me.”
“To rob my damn company?”
James nodded.
“And your stupid ass believed someone working for the Better Business Bureau would have you rob Townsend Real Estate?”
“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “No, but then he said he wasn’t with the BBB but that he worked for a man who had a vested interest in seeing Townsend fall. He said there’d be something in it for me if I robbed the condominium that was for sale. Said the former owners had a safe in it that they hadn’t emptied out.”
“That makes absolutely no fucking sense, James!” I growled, grabbing him by the collar of the orange jumpsuit he wore.
“I know! But the guy told me I’d make an easy ten grand out of the deal. I was broke. It sounded like a bargain to me. So I took it.”
I rose to my feet, standing over James who still laid on the floor. I eyed him, looking for any signs of deception.
“What was this Tim’s last name?”
“McDonald or Mc something or other. Ouch!” he bellowed when he received a sharp kick to his abdomen.
“Give me a straight fucking answer, James.”
“McKellen. He said his last name was McKellen.”
“Tim McKellen,” I sounded out loud, running the name through my mental rolodex. It didn’t ring any bells but I felt this was connected to someone I knew. I stooped low in front of James again. “I’m leaving now. You will be taken back to jail by the officer that brought you here. You will never mention this meeting to anyone or you will find yourself in a very ugly scenario behind bars. You won’t have to worry about ever making it to the end of your ten year sentence for armed robbery. You understand what I’m saying to you?” I glared at James.
“Yesss,” he drew out.
“Good.” I nodded and stood, turning my back on him to move to the door. James was as good as dead behind those prison walls. I’d already saw to that, but I wouldn’t reveal that to him. That’d be a little surprise he’d learn in the next few months. Since he’d pleaded guilty to the armed robbery, there would be no trial. He was going straight to jail where he wouldn’t live out the next six months. That was his real punishment for pulling a gun on Kayla. This minor beating was just to get some information. Now that I had it, I had no use for him.
“You can take him now. Thank you, Officer Venetti.” I held out my hand for the officer to shake. When he gripped it, I said, “As promised, your son will get the medical treatment he needs at no financial cost to your family. Anonymously, of course.” A smile I’d perfected over the years in the course of business dealings touched my lips.
“Th-thank you,” the officer stated, his gaze bouncing between Brutus and I.
I gave Brutus one last nod before turning and heading home. I needed to get changed so Kay and I could make it to my parents’ for dinner.
The man himself is now available for purchase on Amazon and FREE on Kindle Unlimited! Meet Aaron Townsend!
Hello All,
Welp, I last left you with Carter’s Flame. If you haven’t had a chance to read it, check it out here. In Carter’s story, you were introduced to his three younger brothers: Aaron, Joshua, and Tyler. I’ve gotten many questions as to whether or not thee three remaining brothers will receive a story line, and the answer is a resounding YES! First up, among the remaining three is Aaron. He was undoubtedly one of the most intriguing brothers of the bunch, with his gruffness and supposed fairies (what’s going on with that?). I’ve been working hard on Aaron’s story which is currently in the editing/revision stages. But, to give you a little taste of what’s to come, I thought I’d drop off a little teaser for you all. Enjoy!
****Unedited. Subject to change****
Aaron
What the fuck was I doing here? That was probably the first common sense thing I’d asked myself since stepping out of the back of my town car. I glanced around the underground garage, and undid the button of my Tom Ford suit jacket.
“Would you like me to escort-” the chauffeur’s question cut off by the sharp slicing of my hand through the air.
“I got it from here.” I turned towards the metal doors of the elevator. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I told him not even looking over my shoulder.
“I’ll be right here, Mr. Townsend.”
I didn’t waste time acknowledging his statement. Of course, he’d be there waiting on me. That’s what he was paid for while I was in Chicago on business. But as I slid the shiny black keycard into the slot next to the elevator, it was obvious that this little venture was anything but business. I’d spent the entire past seventy-two hours in business meetings and beating any adversary over the head with my strategy. I needed this outlet like I needed my next breath. Not that a quick blow job or a frenzied fuck would ever be enough to ease all the tension rolling through my body, but it would offer a short respite.
I turned to the opposite side of the elevators upon hearing the dinging of the bell, and the doors spread open, revealing the comforts of The Cage’s fourth floor. Just as I stepped off, a long-legged blonde dressed in only a pair of leather shorts and matching pasties, with a leash around her neck, passed. Holding onto the opposite end of the chain, leading her, was another woman, this one with dark chocolate skin, shaved head and dressed head to toe in a pinstripe black suit. I watched the pair, strut down the hall. The bondage room. That’s where they were headed.
“Welcome back, Mr. Townsend,” The petite redhead behind the registration desk, offered with a smile.
I returned her graciousness with a curt nod.
“Your table has already been set up for you. As promised, two women will be by shortly. We hope they are to your liking.” She smiled revealing perfect, pearly white teeth.
I moved around the registration booth, past the leather loveseats where groups of twos, threes, and fours were in various stages of undress. Removing my suit jacket, I carefully laid it on the back of the loveseat, and sat down, picking up the glass of cola with three ice cubes, that I always requested be waiting for me on my arrival. I took my fill, of the club. Another couple made their way down the dark hall into either the bondage room or eating area. The elevator door opened and a pair of women stepped off, dressed in only short bathrobes. They must’ve come from the Wet Room on the third floor, I surmised.
I found myself watching the women, hand in hand as they moved closer, one finally catching my gaze. One was the color of cinnamon while the second had skin the color of sandalwood. Both average height, with small yet curvaceous bodies. They moved, to stand in front of me, and I was pleased to see that my preferences had been noted by whoever sent these two.
“Mr. Townsend,” one of the women giggled causing a frown to mar my face.
I glared at the two, over the rim of my glass, taking another sip of my drink.
“How are you tonight?” the cinnamon toned one spoke up. When I didn’t move, she took that as a sign to move in closer, placing a knee on the loveseat and crawling towards me. These women were beautiful, but I’d had plenty of beautiful women. They’d be fine for the night, I guessed, until one slid her hand up my forearm to my elbow, pushing the sleeve of my shirt out of the way. She gasped and jumped, when my other hand slammed down over hers.
“Don’t touch me.” I tossed her hand away. “I do the touching,” I told both women, sternly. “Give me a dance while I finish my drink.”
They blinked, looking between one another, before slowly sliding off the loveseat to stand in front of the table. I sat back, arm outstretched with my drink in the other hand. I watched semi-bored as both women began stripping one another.
Movement at the elevators caught my attention. The doors slid open and a thirty-something Asian woman stepped off. She didn’t catch my attention, though she was pretty. It was her companion that made me sit all the way up, body going rigid.
****
Patience
How on Earth did I end up here? I was in a sex club for God’s sake!
“Patience, your I.D.” Judy insisted, looking back at me.
I began shaking my head. “Judy, I don’t think I should be here.” My eyes bulged when I looked over Judy’s shoulder to see a half-naked woman sitting on one of the leather loveseats, straddling a man who I could only see from the waist down.
“Patience, I told you to leave your prudish side at home,” Judy insisted, bringing my attention back to her, five-foot-three frame.
“I can’t leave my prudish side at home. I am a prude. I’m a librarian for goodness sakes!…” I whispered the last part, ashamed to admit that, yes, I was a mother in a place like this.
“You weren’t such a prude when you were telling me about that little fantasy of yours… You’re in Chicago tonight. Live a little. You’ll be the same boring librarian …when you get back on the plane tomorrow morning. ‘Kay?” With that, she snatched my wallet out of my hand, rifling through until she found my license then flipped her long, dark silky hair over her shoulder and turned to the hostess at the registration table.
I sealed my eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. Maybe she was right. I could just make myself comfortable at the bar, have a couple of cocktails and let that be that. I wouldn’t bother to tell Judy that there was only one person who’d ever brought out the non-prude in me. And that was a long time ago.
I sighed and blinked my eyes open, ridding myself of those memories.
“You’re still meeting, Kevin here?” I asked, Judy when she returned my I.D.
“Yup. He texted me. He’s on his way. Isn’t this place cool?” She questioned, looping her arm in mine and pulling me towards one of the loveseats that had a card at the center with the name “Russell” on it, her fiancé’s last name.
“It’s cool alright,” I murmured. “Look, I know I told you about my fantasy and all, but that was just all in fun. I’m not doing anything with any of these men … or women.” I plopped down on the loveseat, looking around. I’m sure my facial expression mirrored a damn deer in headlights. I still couldn’t believe I’d gotten drunk enough to share my fantasy of being tied up and spanked with Judy the night before. Now, here I was, at some place in the West Loop where I was certain most of the people in here had more than just read about rope play, as I had.
“You say that now.”
“I mean it!” I hissed at Judy.
She shrugged. “I said the same thing, when I first came. Then I met Kevin, and…” she just smiled and then giggled. “Oh, he’s here.” She pointed at the elevator and got up to greet her fiancé. I remained seated, still feeling so uncomfortable. When a man passed, throwing a smile in my direction, I returned it in kind but wished he’d keep moving. That wasn’t to happen, apparently. He stopped.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hello.” I shifted in my seat, looking around.
“You’re new here, huh?”
“Just visiting.” Saying I was new gave the insinuation that I was planning to return but that would not be the case. This would be my first and last time at this place. A visit was more the appropriate term for this situation.
“Have you visited the other floors yet?” He leaned his body against the love seat, moving in just a tad bit closer.
I wanted to move away, but I held my ground. “I just arrived.”
“I’d love to take you to the Wet Room. A body like yours should never be covered up.” His pale green eyes slid down, pausing at the ample cleavage my black dress exposed. They moved further down, pausing again at the sight of my exposed walnut colored thigh. The dress had been Judy’s idea and I was regretting it. I shifted, pushing my long sister locks over my shoulders to cover, as much cleavage as possible.
“Beautiful brown skin like yours …” he paused, moving his hand closer to my arm. Just before I could pull away a voice sounded.
“If you fucking touch her, I will break all two-hundred and six bones in your body.”
The deep voice sent shock waves through my entire body.
It can’t be.
When the strange man stood, moving out of the way, I nearly passed out when my greatest fear was confirmed.
It was him.
Aaron.
He looked a little older, and still just as mean as ever. And that was his appeal, part of it, at least. The man was handsome, bordering on beautiful by conventional standards. With his dark hair, hazel eyes, square jaw and perfect nose with a splattering of freckles across the bridge.
“This one yours?” The strange man asked, looking towards Aaron.
“She’s off limits … to you,” he snarled. “Leave. Now.”
Aaron gave the man a hard look and before I knew it the guy was backing off. Aaron’s gaze lingered on his retreating form for all of two seconds and then he pinned me with his gaze.
I felt as if I was being lifted, even though I remained seated. I couldn’t look away as all types of emotions swirled around in my gut, each fighting for dominance over the other.
Don’t be so sensitive.
That reminder, of his harsh words, allowed the anger I still held to reign supreme. I’d let my anger at him lead the way.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled, before I could speak. His words knocking all the wind out of my sails.
“I-I,” I stammered but then caught myself. “Having a drink and minding my damn business.” I turned my head, to reach for the glass on my table that had been dropped off by the waitress, but my arm was caught in a steel trap. I dared to look down at his creamy hand, encircling my forearm.
“Get up,” he demanded, but didn’t wait for my compliance. He pulled me up out of my seat with one arm. Once standing, he pulled me tight to his body. With his free hand, he gathered my sister locks at the nape of my neck. His hard eyes moved from mine, down to my lips, face neck and stopping at my breasts. Unlike when the other man had done this same thing, my nipples began throbbing painfully against the cotton fabric of the dress.
“You’re not wearing a bra.”
Why did his simple observation cause a flood in my panties? I should hate this man. No. I do hate this man for the way he treated me.
“Let go of me.”
His jaw tightened along with his grip around my arm.
“You think you’re all grown up now? Think you’re ready for a place like this?”
“It’s none of your Goddamn business what I’m ready for you son of a -”
His free hand clamped around my lower jaw, and his lips crushed mine, pushing my angry words back down my throat. I didn’t want his kiss or his touch. I squirmed to break his grasp but he was too strong and I was always too weak for him. I gasped in pain and pleasure when he bit my lower lip and pulled back, not trying to soothe the bite like he’d done in the past.
“Watch your fucking mouth. Let’s go.”
I stumbled over the heels I wore, that weren’t my own when he began pulling me by my arm. I tugged and attempted to pull free. “Let go of me! Where the hell are we going?!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low to not draw attention from the surrounding patrons. Aaron didn’t even bother to turn and look back at me, pulling me easily toward a long hall.
We passed one room where tables full of food were set up.
“Aaron, where the hell are we-” My question was cut off when he tried the knob of one of the closed wooden doors. The knob turned and he pushed it open. I felt myself propelled forward, just barely able to keep on my feet when he tossed me inside, slamming the door behind him and then my back against the door.
His dark gaze seethed and a twinge of fear scattered up my spine just before he crushed his lips to mine again. Fear, anger and all, it still felt good. Too good. I didn’t want to feel anything but hatred for him. I squirmed and twisted my head, ultimately breaking free of the hold of his mouth.
“Don’t touch me!” I yelled, pushing him away. He barely budged but it was enough distance that I was able to reach up and smack him across the face with all the anger I felt. The loud “pop” echoed around the dark room.
He took a step back, his hazel eyes burning an ominous stare into my eyes as his thumb reached up, swiping at the corner of his mouth. His eyes lowered and my chest heaved when I registered the drop of blood on the tip of his thumb. My stomach plummeted when he turned even darker eyes on me and a smile crept on his handsome face.
Aaron didn’t smile.
Crazy bastard.
Carter’s Flame
Something Special is now available! Please click here for the link to Amazon.
Hello Again,
Something Special will be available Thursday, January 25th. I wanted to give you a preview of these two crazy kids. Last time we saw Gabby and Jamal (in Safe Space) they were at each others’ throats. Looks like there’s no love loss between these two … or is there? We’ll see 😉
****Subject to Change ****
My mother gave me another quizzical look at the loud sigh I let out. “This is the new esthetician you were just talking about?” I narrowed my gaze on Gabby, doing my best to not let my eyes fall to the skin of her navel that was on display in the olive green tee she had tied up in a front knot. The skin tight jeans she wore with black boots that went all the way up to her thighs were hard to keep my eyes off of as well, but I managed.
“And here I thought the Universe was looking out for me today. Only to have the displeasure of running into you.”
Her voice always felt like it crawled underneath my skin just to singe the nerves residing there. The shit made me angry and my grip tightened around the cloth napkin in my lap.
“Do you two know each other?” my mother asked.
“Unfortunately,” we both responded at the same time, our gazes snapping to one another. I refused to acknowledge the feeling of the ground slipping from beneath me as we eyed each other. Nope, I was sure that was just my hunger talking.
“These two have a rather contentious relationship,” Chanel added.
I assumed she was speaking to my mother as my eyes were still trained on Gabby.
“We don’t have a relationship,” Gabby practically snarled.
“I’ll agree to that,” I spat back. “But I see you slinked out of the gates of hell just to partake in a lunch date with my dear cousin.”
“Jamal!” my mother protested.
“And I see you still haven’t managed to remove your head from your sphincter.”
“Gabby!” Chanel called. “Okay, you two, back to your corners,” she stated, coming in between Gabby and I, her swollen belly taking up the most space.
Happy New Year All!!
A new year is a fresh start for new goals, new habits and of course, NEW BOOKS!!
With that said, I know some of you have been heavily anticipating Gabby and Jamal’s story. It’s almost ready for you all. Below is a preview of the cover along with the story synopsis. I will be back soon with more updates so stay tuned! 😉
Gabriella
I can’t stand him.
Jamal Holmes.
My best friend’s cousin.
So what he may be able to help me finally make the move to get my business off the ground. He’s a pompous jerk and judgmental to boot. At least, those are the very excuses I tell myself to avoid his help at all costs. Now, if I could just get my silly body to stop reacting every time he’s near. If I could manage to control my erotic thoughts whenever he opens his mouth or tosses one of those goofy grins my way, everything would be just fine. Only if he didn’t look so damn good in everything he puts on…
Jamal
I can’t stand her.
Gabriella, Gabby for short.
She’s brash, snarky and seems to have it out for me. A damn she-devil.
I don’t give a damn how great her legs look in the tight jeans and leggings she wears. Or, how appealing her mid-section appears in the halter tops she frequently dons. Nor do I care that her smooth, brown skin always looks good enough to taste. She’s a pain in the ass. At least, I thought she was until I started getting to know her. The real Gabby, and not the defensive, sarcastic, she-devil she initially hid behind to put up a wall between us. Slowly, I start to realize I get under her skin just as much as she gets under mine. And once we finally begin to break those walls down, we are both surprised by what’s underneath. Neither of our attitudes, or our pasts that come back into our lives can come between what’s inevitably … Something Special.
Eric’s Inferno now available on Amazon. Click link here to purchase. 
Hello All,
While I’m waiting on the edits for Eric’s Inferno to come back, I decided to catch up on one of my couples. I was inspired by a recent news article about an NFL player taking a knee and thought, “Landon would totally kneel.” So, here’s a little bit of a follow up from Landon and Melody. Hope you enjoy! <3
(If you haven’t read Landon and Melody’s story, check them out here)
******UNEDITED******
“Landon, tell us why you did it?” Andy, the top sportswriter at The Philadelphian thrusts his phone with the recorder turned on into my face after asking his question.
I’m so not in the mood for this shit, I think as I sit on a wooden stool in front of my team locker, surrounded by reporters asking the same question. Why did I kneel? I knew my actions would lead to this, the night of our team’s home opener. Of course, I knew, but right now I just want to go home and see my two favorite people in the world. The edges of my lips curl upward at the thought of home. Let’s get this shit over with, I surmise, at the same time, I continue packing up my duffel bag.
“The answer isn’t obvious, Andy?” I ask, looking up at the hunched over reporter from my stool.
“Well, we want to hear your side of the story,” he retorts.
I grunt at his answer and roll my shoulders back starting to feel the ache of the two tackles I received out on the field. Our home opener was a “W” for us, but it hadn’t come easy.
“You want to know why I took a knee during the National Anthem?”
“Yes, what made you kneel?”
I look from Andy to the reporters surrounding me, and then to the guys on my team still mingling around the locker room. Some are sitting on their stools surrounded by reporters just like I am. I peek over my left shoulder at my best friend and my number one defender on the field, Tank. He’s been my best friend since our college days, more than a decade ago.
Slowly, I turned back to the reporters in front of me. “I did it for the guys on my team. Look around,” I gesture my head around the locker room. “I’m the minority in this room, and often out on the field. But I never thought much about that. As long as I performed no one cared about my race. Unfortunately, that’s not how the outside world works.” I look Andy square in the eye as I rise from the stool, now towering over him. “Did you know Tank was once almost arrested just walking across campus?” I see Tank’s head pop up from the reporters surrounding him. “We were sophomores walking back to the dorm after a party and someone called the police. They came up on us, guns out, demanding to know who we were, but they focused on Tank. Those cops pretty much ignored me until I told them my name and then his. It wasn’t until they recognized who he was and that he was a member of the team, that they settled down, put their guns away. Later, one of the officers even asked us both for an autograph,” I added that last part through gritted teeth, pissed at the memory.
That was the first time I’d ever seen police be so hostile without provocation. It was the first time I saw with my own eyes how different someone could be treated based on their race. I tried to convince Tank to make a complaint after the incident with the campus police department, but he just shrugged and told me to forget about it. Unfortunately, I did.
“I’ve heard stories but that was the first time I saw, up close, the disparity injustice when it comes to race. I used to think football was the best thing that ever happened to me. But I was disavowed of that notion almost two years ago when I met my wife. And three months ago she gave me the greatest gift anyone could ever give. She made me a father. I am now the father of a little boy whose skin is darker than mine, and as much as it makes my stomach turn the reality is, people will see him differently because of it.” I pause, taking time to swallow down the revulsion and anger that knowledge causes me. “I made a promise to do everything in my power to protect my son the day that he was born. So today, on the home opener of our season I did what I needed to, to live up to that promise. I took a knee to acknowledge the fact racial injustice is alive and well in our world, and it’s up to every one of us to stamp it out. I’ll continue to take a knee for the foreseeable future. And whoever has an issue with that, can come see me about it.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I glance around at the reporters, “I have somewhere I need to be.”
I grab my belongings and head to the showers to wash off the sweat, dirt, and grit of the last few hours, all the while, rushing to get the hell out of this stadium.
“Hell of a speech,” Tank grunts, clapping me on the back as we head towards the doors that lead to the parking lot. We drove into the stadium together since we live in the same gated community–a community our real estate company built. I moved Melody and I into our new home when she was six months pregnant.
“Get the hell outta here,” I shrug him off.
“Pretty boy takes a knee. I can see the headlines already,” he laughs.
“Yeah, what about you? I wasn’t the only one kneeling out there.”
“True, but I’m not the franchise player.”
I open my mouth to respond when I hear someone call my name from behind us.
“Landon, I know you weren’t trying to sneak out. I’m fielding calls left and right,” My assistant, John huffs.
I frown. “I wasn’t sneaking any damn where. I’m going home,” I tell him, sternly. “I suggest you do the same.” Before I can fully turn he starts up again.
“You can’t. The owners are in an uproar! Of course they won-” his words are cut off by my raised hand.
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. I just played a tough game and the last thing I want is to look at your ugly mug, or this guy’s,” I gesture to Tank. “I’d much rather be looking into my wife’s face, so I’ll make this the last thing I say to you tonight. Take. Your. Ass. Home.”
With that, I turn from John and head towards the parking lot where I’ve parked. It takes about forty minutes to get from the stadium to the suburbs we now live in. The ride is mostly silent and I drop Tank off, before pulling up to my home only a few doors down. I look up from my driver’s seat and a warm feeling spread throughout my chest when I see the dim light of the master bedroom.
“Home sweet home.”
****
It’s after eleven o’clock when I step foot over the threshold from the garage into the mudroom of our 6,000 square foot home. I toe off my shoes, grinning as I remember the fuss Melody put up over the size of our house. She insisted we didn’t need such a huge home, but I informed her, I planned on filling this space with our babies. Of course, I got my way.
I pad my way through the mud room, down the hall, past the kitchen and up the stairs that lead to the master bedroom. I don’t even bother to glance at the nursery across from our bedroom. Our son, Landon Jr., rarely sleeps in his crib. At three months, Melody swears he’s too little to sleep that far from us. I push the door of our master bedroom open and my breath hitches, per usual.
In our sprawling California King Bed lays my wife, skin the color of cinnamon, thick thighs that I adore and curves galore. My mouth waters and my fingers ache to feel the smoothness of her skin under their tips. She doesn’t even stir as I move in closer, standing at the foot of the bed. She’s asleep, our little bundle of joy perched in her lap. My eyes move higher up her body and my cock stiffens at the sight of her bare breast exposed, the other one covered by her pink silk robe. She’s fallen asleep while breastfeeding.
I move to the side of the bed and lean down, brushing my lips across her warm forehead, and then reach for our son. Melody stirs at the cooing sounds our baby makes. Her eyes flutter open, first landing on her lap and I see the panic in them when she sees the baby is no longer there. The panic subsides when she looks up to see me holding him. When her lips spread into the smile she reserves just for the two of us, my cock jerks again, my eyes once again, going down to her exposed breast. I lick my lips on instinct.
Melody notices my look and looks down, and to my chagrin, covers herself. “Good game tonight,” she whispers.
“You watched?” I smirk and begin rocking Landon Jr. to keep him from waking.
Sheepishly, Melody looks down at her lap before looking back at me. “I tried, for Junior,” she smirks. My wife still isn’t much of a football fan.
“You watched daddy win tonight?” I coo to Junior and press a kiss to his cheek.
“He did and to celebrate, he had a poop explosion all over mommy,” Melody says, rising up on her knees to come closer to us.
“Atta boy!”
“Yeah, next time, I’m saving it for you to clean up,” she teases.
“Fine by me. Come here,” I lean down, beckoning her to give me a kiss. She obliges and I securely hold Junior against me while I capture my wife’s lips. The wave of energy that always occurs when we kiss is there and my jeans begin feeling even tighter. Before we can take this any further, Junior needs to go to his room.
“Hold that thought, babe. Junior’s going to spend some time in his nursery.”
“Landon he can-” her protest is silenced by my kiss. “I’ll be right back,” I say with finality.”
I briskly exit our bedroom and enter Landon Jr’s nursery, and strut over to his crib. I hold him in my arms and just stare at him, memorizing every inch of his face. His skin is the color of honey, darker than mine, but lighter than Melody’s–the perfect mix of us. Other than skin tone, he’s totally and utterly my kid. Looks just like me. He’ll be tall like me and has the makings of a football player already. And even though they’re shut right now, I picture his hazel-golden eyes. I hold him up to me, inhaling his scent. His smell reminds me of his mother. And just like last night, and the night before that, and nights before that since he was in his mother’s womb, I tell him.
“Sleep tight, buddy. Dad’s got your back.”
I swear he understands because he stirs a little and sighs, relaxing back into his comfortable sleeping state.
“Right now I need some of your mama,” I add, placing him in the crib and cover him with the baby blanket. I click on the baby monitor that allows us to see everything in the nursery. There’s no way Mel would let him out of her sight even for a little while without this thing.
I make my way back to our bedroom and see Mel’s attention is on our television. I frown when I see that space between her eyebrows knitted. I turn to the television and see the replay of me kneeling during the Anthem and then my post-game interview. I strut over to the t.v. and hit the power button, bringin Melody’s attention back to me. She sits up on her knees, eyeing me as I approach her.
“You made quite a stir tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did I?” I run my finger along her jawline, down the column of her neck and push her robe off her shoulder. I bend down to kiss it and be bite it. I feel her shudder. Her body’s reaction to my touch always turns me on.
“L-Landon, you didn’t tell me you were g-going to do that,” she stutters.
“Didn’t I?” I ask distractedly, now kissing up her neck and taking her earlobe into my mouth to suck on it.
She sighs.
I cover her mouth with mine. I can tell she still wants to talk but I’ve said all I needed to say. I’m done talking for the night. Right now, I need in between my wife’s thighs.
I savor the taste of her, my lips hungrily devour hers, at the same time my hands move to cover and squeeze her breasts through her robe.
“Hsss. Landon, my breasts are sore,” she moans.
“Let me make it better, baby.” I push down the sides of her robe and her full breasts and erect nipples stand at attention. They’re bigger since she birthed Junior. I lean down and circle one nipple with my tongue and then the other, before using both my hands to push them together, sucking on both breasts. I’m spurred on by the mewling sounds Melody makes. I pull back slightly, attempting to pull her robe completely off, but I’m stopped by her hands.
I look up to see the look of uncertainty she’s giving me. My eyes narrow and my temper begins to flare at the insecurity I see in her eyes. I immediately step back and go over to the light switch on the wall, flicking it on. Melody’s light brown eyes bulge.
“Landon, turn off-”
“No,” I say sternly, cutting her off. “Take off the damn robe,” I demand.
She hesitates and I have to inhale deeply to control my temper. “Melody, unless you want me to rip the damn thing to shreds, you’ll take it off. Now!” I growl, pacing towards her.
That uncertain look remains, but she complies and lets the robe fall completely away from her body, leaving her in just a pair of panties.
“Move your hands.” My voice is low, firm.
Her hands lower from her belly, exposing the soft flesh, lined with a number of stretch marks. I grip her waist and lean down. Melody intakes a sharp breath as I kiss each one of her stretch marks, loving on the place where my son grew and developed for nine months.
“Don’t ever try to hide from me,” I say, now looking her in the eye.
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“Liar.” I run my hand down her belly and into the boy short panties she’s wearing, cupping her sex. I place my other hand lightly around her neck, forcing her to look at me.
“Every inch of this delectable body belongs to me. You’re mine. All of you. Understood?” I stare at her.
“Understood,” she finally answers.
I plunge my tongue into her mouth, licking and tasting everywhere I can reach. My fingers curl and I insert two digits into her wet canal. Melody cries out into my mouth. This isn’t the first time we’ve been intimate since Junior was born, but with me being away for camp and the new season, it’s only been the second or third time. I hate that my wife is insecure about her body after having a baby. I’m not about to let that happen.
“Fuck,” she whispers lowering her head into my neck and gripping my shoulders with her hands.
“Are you gonna come for me?” I ask before licking the side of her neck.
“Y-yes,” she purrs.
I insert a third finger inside her and piston in and out. “So fucking tight. I don’t think you’re ready for my cock.”
“Landon,” she moans, almost whining. The sound of my name filled with her hunger for me, sends my cock pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans.
“Now, Melody. Come for me now!” I growl in her ear at the same time I press my thumb against her clit.
“Shit!” she yells, her body trembling as she comes for me, just as I ordered.
“Lay down,” I say at the same time I press her shoulders to make her lie on the bed, and strip her of the underwear.
“L-Landon we should talk about tonight,” she pants.
“Fuck talking,” I say tossing my t-shirt over my head and unbuttoning my jeans.
“I’m serious,” she slurs, still intoxicated from her first orgasm.
“So am I. The only thing I wanna discuss is how good my dick feels while inside you.” I push down my pants and boxers, my cock springing outward, aimed at my wife. “Spread your legs. Let me see what’s mine,” I order, placing my knee on the bed and moving towards her.
Just as I knew she would, Melody, obliges, planting her feet and spreading her legs allowing me to see the pink paradise between her legs. For a moment, my brain short-circuits and I can’t decide what I want to do first. Use my mouth or my cock?
“Landon, the owners, and fans are all going to have something to say,” she says, breaking my concentration on her pussy.
“Let ‘em,” I grunt.
“Landon.”
I move quickly to cover her, my mouth on hers as I hover above her. “Fuck them,” I say once I pull back.
She eyes me, concerned. “I’m worried.”
I hate the twinge of fear I hear in her voice.
“Don’t be,” I whisper against her lips at the same time, my cock breeches her entrance. “You’re mine. You and Landon Jr. are the only things that matter to me. My life doesn’t mean shit if I don’t protect you two. I will kneel, sit, stand and honor the both of you in any way I can until my last breath,” I grit the last part out, pushing all the way inside her. Her gasp and the tears in her eyes are my undoings.
“I love you,” I said as I proceeded to move in and out of her.
“I love you,” she responds and aside from my son’s coos that were the best thing I’d heard all day.
“Say it again,” I command, pulling all the way out until just the tip of my cock was inside her, and then pushed back inside her so forcefully the headboard pushed against the wall.
“Oh God!” Melody moaned her hips rising to meet mine, arms locked around my back.
“Say it again, baby.” Another press of my hips into hers.
“I love you.”
“Good girl.” I take both her wrists in my hand, pushing her hands against the pillow and capture her mouth, at the same time I pump into her hot channel. “Fuck!” I yell.
“Fuck me, Landon!” Melody urges.
“Goddammit, I love it when you talk like that, baby.” I move both her wrists in one hand and used my other arm to raise her leg over my shoulder, rutting into her core.
“That feel good?” I grunt, my hips taking on a mind of their own. Melody’s hips rise against me, her head lifting, silently begging to feel my lips on hers. With such plump lips like that, who am I to turn down such an invitation?
Our mouths fuse together, grunting and moaning in each other’s mouths we both race to reach our climax.
“Landon!”
“Melody!”
We yell each other’s names as our orgasms slam into us. I flex my hips, wringing out every last second of my orgasm, before collapsing onto Melody. Her arms and legs wrap around me even tighter, taking all of my bodyweight. I brace her hips and turn us so she’s now laying on top of me. I use my hand to push her tangled curls out of her face.
“I meant everything I said.”
She grins down at me. “I know.” Her head dips and she presses a kiss to my lips.
Any response I have is cut off by the sharp wail that comes through the baby monitor. Melody starts to move, but I stop her.
“I’ll go.”
“You sure?”
I give her a look. “Don’t move. Stay right in that position for when I get back,” I say smacking her ass. I smirk at her giggle, and get up to put on my boxer briefs and tend to my son. I turn to look over my shoulder as I step outside the room to see Melody now laying on her back.
“You’re going to pay for moving,” I growl.
“I’m counting on it,” she answers, saucily, winking at me.
I growl turning to go back and put her over my knee, but Landon Jr. will not be ignored. Another loud wail reminds me that my little guy was upset about something.
I would go tend to my son first, put him to sleep and then remind my wife of what happens when she fails to follow my directions before putting her to sleep as well. It was going to be a long, fun night.
Hey Y’all,
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? Well, just know, in that time I’ve been working on my next series. Up next is The Men of Rescue Four!
Firefighters are known for their mental and physical toughness, their roudyness, and just as well known for their philandering ways. The fact is, these men work hard and love to play just as hard. It takes a special woman to make these guys slow down and think twice about settling down. But that’s exactly what will happen to the men of Rescue Four. One by one, each man will find himself not just fighting the fires of the calls they go on at work, but also fanning the flames of attraction, lust and if they’re lucky…love.
First up in this series is Eric “Harvard” Kim’s story of finding romance and love, with a lot of steaminess thrown in. Keep an eye out over the next few weeks for a release date. For now, here’s a sneak peek. Oh, and the book cover.
Eric’s Inferno Sneak Peek ***Unedited. Subject to Change***
“Heads up. Rescue 4 just walked in.”
I looked up from behind the bar just as the men of Rescue Four entered. Individually, these guys could stop traffic, but altogether they were enough to give a normally healthy woman a heart attack. The first to enter was Corey with warm brown skin that held gold undertones he stood at about six-feet and the way the black t-shirt he wore clung to his body, he was in the gym at least five days a week. Next to enter was Don, who was about an inch taller, just as muscular with olive skin and dark hair with a scruffy beard. The first two were enough to make any girl swoon, but I felt the blood rush to my ears when the third and final Rescue Four man came into my line of sight. The one they called Harvard, although his real name was Eric. He stood the tallest of the three with creamy tan skin and dark hair that looked smooth as silk thanks to his Asian heritage. I’d overheard one of the guys say that he was Korean. With his chiseled jaw, full lips that were almost pouty, and dark hooded eyes, he screamed sex appeal. He looked like he held the secrets of the world behind those eyes. His mysteriousness was coupled with the fact that out of all the firemen that frequented the bar, he spoke the least. Firefighters were a loud, proud lot. I knew them well. My father had been one for more than thirty years, and my older brother was one of them. I’d grown up around them. But Eric had a steely calm to him like he didn’t have to announce who or what he was to the world. He knew who he was.
A trail of goosebumps rose along my arms when those dark eyes circled the room, finally landing on me. I was behind the bar, far from the door, but it almost appeared as if his eyes darkened when they slowly scanned down my body. His facial expression remained neutral and I forced myself to look away, moving to help another customer.
“What’s up, Sugar?” Corey greeted a few minutes later.
“How’re you doing tonight, Corey?” I smiled.
“Much better now that I’ve seen your beautiful face,” he replied smoothly, perfect teeth appearing when he grinned.
Did I mention how much these men flirted? All except one, at least.
“Talking like that is going to get you in trouble.”
“Trouble’s my middle name.”
I laughed. “The usual?” I questioned, pulling the rag out of the back pocket of my jeans to clean up a spill on the bar.
“Yup, make it five. We’re meeting two more from Rescue Four.”
“I thought you guys were traveling a little light tonight.”
“Us three just got off. Thanks, sugar,” Corey winked once I handed him the first of the three Coronas with lime he’d requested. He sauntered over to pass off the first two beers and again my eyes collided with Eric’s, almost as if he’d been staring at me. A shiver ran through me when he took the proferred beer from Corey, his gaze still planted on me. His eyes narrowed and I almost go the sense I was in the crosshairs of a predator. Instead of fear, I felt my lower belly quiver as thoughts of the intentions behind those dark eyes ran through my mind. I finally managed to blink and when I looked back, he’d turned, facing the rest of the men at his table. I sighed. Even his profile was beautiful. I licked my lips as I watched Eric’s Adam’s apple bob up and down after he took a swig of his beer.
“You might want to clean up that drool you left on the bar,” Stephanie mumbled in my ear.
I snapped her hip with the towel in my hand. “I’m not above replacing you,” I scolded Stephanie.
“You wouldn’t fire me. Who else do you have to run this place while you’re fantasizing about the hot firefighter,” she wiggled her eyebrows, and I tossed my head back, laughing.
“Get back to work,” I ordered. It was a Friday night, and Charlie’s was hopping as usual. Being conveniently located between two fire stations meant that during evening shift changes we were inundated with burly firefighters and the many female patrons who swooned after them. That coupled with the regular foot traffic we received and at times having two bartenders behind the bar wasn’t always enough. I was grateful for it all. It’d been eighteen months since I bought Charlie’s out from its previous owner, did some construction work on the place to give patrons more room, added a Bluetooth jukebox, and a few craft beers that were so loved by us millennials, and business was booming.
“What can I do for you, sir?” I asked the man who’d just walked up to the bar. He ordered a rum and coke. Once that order was done, I moved on to the next customer. It went on like this probably for close to an hour with Stephanie and I so busy we barely got a good look at who we were serving before we were pouring another drink.
“What can I get for ya?” I asked the patron, barely making eye contact.
“The usual.”
A warm sensation moved through my belly at the sound of that voice. I locked eyes with Eric.
“F-five coronas with lime?” I stumbled over my words, internally kicking myself for sounding so lame.
A half-smile formed on those lips and he nodded, leaning down on the bar. I had to keep myself from watching his biceps bulge and strain again the t-shirt he wore.
“Coming up!” I infused my voice with the cheerfulness I gave all my customers. I felt his gaze on me just as if he were touching me, while I uncapped the bottles and inserted the sliced limes.
“Thanks, sugar,” I heard Corey’s voice sound off from behind Eric. I looked up just as he put an arm around a now frowning Eric. “You know, this guy should drink free tonight.”
I raised my eyebrows looking at Corey. “Oh yeah, and why is that?” I uncapped the final bottle.
“Harvard you didn’t tell Angela here you’re a hero?” Corey teased.
Eric just gave him a shut the hell up look.
But Corey kept on going. “Harvard here, saved a little girl today. Climbed a four-story building and brought her down.”
My eyes ballooned. “Seriously?”
“Ye-”
“No, he’s messing around,” Eric tossed a deadly look in Corey’s direction.
“Fuck no he ain’t,” I heard Don’s booming voice come up behind both men and insert himself at Eric’s left side.
“Corey’s telling the truth. Rescue Four had to save Rescue Two’s asses again today.” Don and Corey both guffawed at that. Eric gave a light chuckle, and I had to look away. Something about not looking directly into the sun, unless you want your retinas to burn up. That’s what it was like looking at this man for too long, especially when he laughed.
“Well, in that case, this round’s on the house. Just don’t tell Rescue Two about it.”
Don and Corey grabbed all but one of the beers headed back to their table.
“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Eric’s gaze lingered on me for a heartbeat, then he grabbed the beer I still held in my hand, his fingers grazing mine. My eyelids fluttered at the current of energy that ran through me at his touch. I looked up into Eric’s handsome face to see his eyes widen ever so slightly. He felt it too. He inclined his head towards me before turning to head back to the rest of his squad.
I picked up a stack of napkins and began fanning myself with them. “Geesh.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from under the bar, hoping to douse my internal flames before I returned to serving my customers.
“Talk about hot!” Stephanie said behind me. I turned to see her biting her finger as she longingly looked over at the men who’d just departed from the bar.
“If you like that sort of thing,” I shrugged.
“Oh please. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t leave this bar right now to go home with one of them. Especially, Harvard. I’ve seen the way you look at him. And how he looks at you.” She wagged her finger at me, shaking her shoulders seductively, her blond locks flowing around her shoulders.
“The man barely talks.”
“Even better! The strong, silent type.”
“Get outta here. There’s nothing there. Plus, I’m trying to see where things go with Marshall.”
“Boring,” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on what three dates with Marshall? That’s not enough time to see where things are going?”
“Some of us like the slow build. You know, creating a solid foundation. Not everything’s passion and hot sex.”
“If you say so.”
Hello All,
Christmas decided to come a little early this year. So…Available Now on Amazon
Click here
Hello All,
Time is ticking along and Safe Space II is currently being edited. Trust me, I am JUST as anxious for you all to read it as you are. Once I get my manuscript back from my editor I should have a better idea as to a release date. In the mean time and in between time, here is the cover reveal for Safe Space II: The Finale
Hello All,
How’s everyone? First, thank you to all who have supported and sent me messages, left reviews, and just generally enjoyed Safe Space. Xavier and Chanel’s story has been a labor of love. Safe Space 2 is currently in its revision/editing stages, and I am hoping for an early Agust release. I will definitely keep you all updated when I have a release date. As for now, here is a sample of what’s to come in Safe Space 2. Enjoy!
****Unedited. Subject to Change****
**********************************************************************************************************
“You think you know her that well?” I heard the challenge in his voice.
“I do,” I answered with confidence.
“What makes you think that?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, growing irritated at this line of questioning. I knew Chanel. Maybe not everything, obviously. But we’d spent too much time getting under one another’s skin for me not to know her. But I didn’t feel like sharing that with Jason. I wanted to keep the intimacy I felt with Chanel just between us.
“The real question is why don’t you know her that well?”
Jay’s expression morphed into a shocked look. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” He stood up from the bench at the same time I did.
“It means exactly what I said. She’s your sister. Why the fuck didn’t you know what the hell was going on in her life? Why the hell did you find out about the shit that went down with her fiance at the same time I did? Five years after the fact?” Those were questions I’d been wondering for weeks now. Another reason I’d kept my distance from Jay, aside from my traveling. He was her older brother, supposed to protect her, no matter what. And he failed. So, I was pissed at him too.
“Man, I tried to look out for her. You should know that better than anyone else. What the hell did you think I was doing those times I asked you to stop in and check in on her while you were in D.C?”
My head shot back in surprise. I thought back to the times Jay would ask me to pop in on Chanel while I was out in D.C. handling business. She was still in law school at the time and living with Ethan.
“I never liked that dude. Something about him always seemed off to me. Well, not even him but the way Chanel seemed to close up in herself when he was around.” Jay shook his head as if remembering the signs of what was going on in their relationship right in front of him and being completely oblivious to it at the time. “You never picked up on anything when you saw her out there?”
I closed my eyes, thinking about one of the times I visited Chanel’s D.C. apartment.
Six years earlier…
“Xavier, what’re you doing here?” Chanel asked through the intercom of her apartment building.
“I was in town and remembered you didn’t live far from one of the spots I’m opening. Let me up. I bought some pumpkin scones from the deli down the block.”
“Oh! I love that place. Hang on.”
A second later I heard the buzzer sound signaling I’d been granted access to the building. I opted to take the stairs to her third-floor apartment instead of the elevator.
“Hey,” she answered the door with a warm smile on her face.
I let my eyes glide down the length of her body. Her hair was pulled back in a poofy ponytail at the back of her head. She wore a simple gray sleeveless tank top and black stretch pants. I grinned at the pink polish on her toe nails. I briefly wondered why I even noted the color of her toe nails but pushed that thought aside.
“Hey. Can I come in?” I asked when I realized I was still on the outside of her door as we stared at one another.
“Oh,” she blinked. “Sure, come in. Is it cold out?”
“Nah, not too bad.” I pulled off the leather jacket I’d been wearing and placed it on the back of one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. “What’re you up to?”
“I’m just studying. Finals start next week.”
“Then only one more semester of law school left. You ready for working as a lawyer?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m scared as hell, to be honest. You want something to drink?” She asked over her shoulder as she pulled out two plates from an overhead cupboard.
I had to tear my eyes away from her round ass in those leggings. “Here, let me help.” I stepped behind her, placing my hand on the small of her back and easily reaching up grabbing two saucers.
“Thank you.” Her voice was breathless. “I don’t know why Ethan insists on putting the dishes on the second shelf where I can barely reach them.”
The mention of her live-in boyfriend reminded me that she was taken. For some reason, my stomach twisted at the reminder that she shared this place with another man. I stepped back, placing my hands on the counter, instead of on her. “You didn’t need a plate for me. I just wanted to drop these off.” That was a partial lie. Jason had asked me to check on Chanel and make sure she was straight. I did that from time to time when I was in D.C.
“No, please stay for a little while.”
When she turned those big brown eyes on me, pleading my knees felt a little weak.
“Ethan’s working late, as usual, and I’ve just been studying. It’s so quiet here.” She stared at me, waiting for my response. I dropped my coat, which I had grabbed from around the chair. That move instantly brought a smile to her face.
“A’ight. I’ve got some time before I have to be anywhere. But I’m not eating one of those pumpkin scones.” I pointed at the box with a look of disgust on my face.
“Oh, c’mon they’re not that bad,” she teased, pushing the opened box in my face so I could smell them.
I turned my head. “Nah.”
“If you don’t like pumpkin scones why did you buy them?”
“I told you, they’re for you. I remembered you liked the pumpkin scones sold at my coffee shop back home.”
Her grinned. “You remembered that?”
I nodded shocking us both. She’d devoured those things from the little coffee shop I owned just off the campus of the University of Houston, where we’d both attended, though at different times.
“They were so delicious. Do you still sell them?” she asked, placing a scone on one of the saucers and pouring a glass of the almond milk she’d pulled from the ‘fridge.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I sold that place a couple of years ago.”
Her forehead creased in concern “Why?”
“I wasn’t interested in the cafe business.”
“On to bigger and better?”
I nodded.
“Um, well we have some brownies I bought earlier this week. You do like brownies right?”
“Of course.”
“Almond milk? It’s vanilla flavored.”
“Sure.”
“I was used to regular milk, but my best friend Gabby is vegan, and she’s got me hooked on almond milk now,” she stated, as she took a seat across from me at the wooden circular dining table. We enjoyed our snacks for a few minutes in silence. I had to force myself to keep it together when Chanel closed her eyes and moaned a little bit after the first bite of her scone.
“I’ve been trying to be good and stay away from that deli for weeks now.”
“Why?” I took a sip of my milk.
“Because between that place and the stress of finals I could gain ten pounds, easy. Ethan’s already been making comments about my gaining weight.” She frowned and my fist tightened at the thought of her thinking she could be anything less than desirable.
“He’s a fucking fool.” My bluntness caught her off guard, and she gasped. I hadn’t said anything I didn’t mean, so I simply stared at her as I took another bite of my brownie. “Why aren’t you out on the town on a Friday night? I know you said you’ve got finals, but that’s not until next week.”
Sheee made an unreadable face. “Ethan’s at work.”
“And? Why can’t you go out with friends?”
“Most of my friends are also busy studying. But my best friend is packing to move across the country in a few days.”
“That sucks. Why aren’t you helping her?”
A pout formed on her lips. “We’re not speaking right now.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes shot up to my face before she peered at something over my shoulder. A far off look appeared on her face.
I lowered the glass of milk I’d been ready to take a sip of, alarm bells went off in my gut.
“No reason. Just girl stuff,” she waved a hand as if it was no big deal.
Something told me differently, though. Before I could question Chanel about it, noise at the door drew both of our attentions. A few seconds later the door opened, and a man strode through. He stopped short when his eyes landed on me. His face turned into a scowl.
“E-Ethan,” Chanel started, jumping from her seat and scurrying over to her boyfriend. “You’re home. I thought you’d be in a little later.” I could’ve been imaginging things but her voice sounded strange. Almost guilty.
I frowned, not liking the tone her voice now held. His scowl moved from me to Chanel.
“Yeah, I finished the brief I was working on earlier than expected. I thought I’d come home and surprise my favorite girl by taking her out to dinner. But I see you’ve already eaten.” He eyed the plates on the table, then turned his gaze on me again.
I picked up my glass taking the last sip of milk before slowly standing. I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from this dude.
“Ethan, this is Xavier. Jason’s best friend. He’s in D.C. on business and stopped by to drop off some scones. We were just catching up.” She stopped talking shortly, biting her lower lip and now standing in between me and Ethan.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’ve told me about him.” His face seemed to soften just a little when he looked at me.
“What’s up?” I greeted, sticking my hand out.
“Not much, man,” he shook my hand. We stood about the same height. At six foot one, I may have been an inch or two taller than him. “Thanks for keeping my girl company while I was at work.” He pulled Chanel into his side.
“Thanks for the scones, Xavier.” Chanel gave me a half-smile.
“Anytime,” I responded, and I swear Ethan’s face tightened at that. Before I could give him another look, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out seeing the name of the woman I’d intended to take out later that evening. That reminded me that I needed to get going if I was going to make my date with Genene. I hit ignore but shot her a quick text letting her know I’d call her back in a few minutes.
“I gotta head out. Chanel, it was good catching up. Ethan.” I gave him a head nod as I stepped around him and moved towards the door.
“Thanks again,” Chanel added as she escorted me to the door.
There was a look in her eyes I wanted to ask about, but my phone buzzed again. This time it was my assistant, telling me some information about a building I’d been looking to purchase.
“You take care. Enjoy those scones.”
“I will.” She closed the door rather abruptly, but I didn’t think too much of it as I strolled down the hall, reading over the email I’d just received.
Good morning!
As you can see from the title Safe Space is available today! Woot Woot! You can pick up your copy here.
And while reading, go ahead and get into this playlist. Xavier and Chanel’s story is better absorbed while listening to music. Happy reading!
(And if you enjoyed the book, please head over to Amazon to leave a review. Thank you in advance).
Have you ever felt the type of safety in a relationship that made you want to open up and expose all of yourself to one person? If you have, then you know what the term “safe space” is all about. My goal in this story was to write a relationship about that safe space. The heroine in this story has been through some negative experiences in her past which makes her reluctant to the idea of love or relationship, despite the incredible chemistry she feels with Xavier. And Mr. Grant being the quintessential alpha male is not going to let that stop him. These two share an undeniable spark that even past hurts can’t get in the way of. However, as with every couple, they will go through their ups and downs, and hopefully make it out on the other side. I’m so ready to share this story with you all, and hope you enjoy the development of Chanel and Xavier’s love as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Available for preorder here)
Now, I’m off to go write more of their second installment, so you won’t being waiting too long for the conclusion of their story 🙂
But first, another sneak peek:
Okay, I know I do this A LOT, but I am truly sorry for neglecting this blog for soooo long. Please blame my head and hectic life and not my heart. If you follow me on FaceBook or even Twitter, you’ll know by now that My Storm has dropped. If you haven’t gotten your copy, you can find it on Amazon here. The release was rather short notice for me, and I simply forgot to post it here on the blog, considering I posted it everywhere else. My apologies.
One of the main reasons I neglected to keep up on my blog is that at the time I was editing My Storm, I was also in the middle of writing my first African-American Romance (among other things). This one is being self-published and is now available for preorder on Amazon. The release date will be June 1st. This one will actually be a two-parts as these characters just had a lot to say. With that said, let me introduce you to Chanel and Xavier in Safe Space.
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more sneak peeks on this couple 😉
My Storm Synopsis
****Warning: This is a BDSM romance. ****
Writing has always been Tasha Edwards’ means of escape. When the world around her was falling apart, and the adults she was supposed to depend on turned on her, it was her vivid imagination and storytelling that got her through the rough times. As an adult, it is this very passion for writing that has made her a New York Times’ bestselling author. She couldn’t ask for much more, with a thriving career and now being reunited with the older sister who always looked out for her. Tasha’s on the cusp of writing the fourth book in her highly popular series. But what happens when the words stop coming? After months of writers’ block, Tasha looks to somewhat unconventional means to distract her from her inability to write; a distraction by the name of Jeremy Bennett, the very sexy cousin of her new brother-in-law.
Jeremy noticed Tasha the first time he laid eyes on her. He also told himself she was off limits. That look of sadness that always hid deep in those golden-colored orbs warned him that she had an ugly past. It takes one to know one. After one dance with Tasha at his cousin’s wedding, Jeremy promises himself he’ll keep away from the beautiful woman with skin the color of dark chocolate, killer curves, but a dark past. Now, if he can only keep her out of his dreams at night. He manages for a while, but when Tasha initiates the first move, can he turn her away? Is Tasha ready for everything that comes with being Jeremy Bennett; floggers, ball gags and nipple clamps included?
Hello Everyone,
Two weeks ago I told you Tasha and Jeremy’s story was definitely in the works and coming soon. As of today it is still in editing, after some much needed revisions, but the process is moving along. I do have the book cover and title so I wanted to share that with you.
I present to you the cover for My Storm
Hello Everyone,
Okay, I know it’s been a looooong time since I’ve been around. I apologize for that. I have been writing in that time, but Tasha and Jeremy’s story had me going through it. It took a couple of rounds of editing, putting the story down and starting another story and then coming back to them to FINALLY get to a place where I felt comfortable submitting my book for editing with my publisher. I apologize for the wait, just know that Jeremy and Tasha’s story is close to being complete and being worked on by the editor. In the meantime I’ve begun writing my next story so *crossing fingers* it will not be nearly as long a wait in between books. Okay, with all of that said how about another sample and some pictures from Jeremy and Tasha?
****Unedited****
Tasha
Returning to the present moment, I hear the front door open and close. Butterflies immediately start fluttering in my belly. That happens whenever I’m anywhere near this man. I hear him making his way to the kitchen. I take out a spoon from the drawer wanting him to taste a sample of tonight’s dinner before he goes up to take a shower and get out of his work clothes. However, as soon as I look up from the stove into those dark green pools of his, I know he is not thinking about dinner, at least, not the dinner on the stove. He leans his long, solid body against the edge of the kitchen entrance, staring at me. I know that look.
“Hi.” My voice already breathless.
“Hello,” he returns looking me up and down, pausing to take in the outline of my ass in the long skirt I’m wearing. I know he’s assessing whether or not I have panties on, which would be breaking one of his rules–no panties while in my home. Realizing I indeed am naked under the skirt, he raises his gaze to look me in the eye at the same time he raises his hands to the collar of his shirt. Deftly, he removes his dark blue silk tie. That move alone has my insides buzzing in anticipation but I try to keep it under control.
“How was your day?” I decide to play coy, pretending not to realize what type of mood he’s in. Something has him needing to release some extra energy. And that knowledge alone has my pussy pulsing in anticipation.
“Hands behind your back,” he gets straight to the point.
I tease him as I turn the stove off and cover the pots. “No answer to my question?”
He stalks towards me with narrowed eyes and growls lowly in his throat. “Love,” he scolds.
“I just want to know how your day was?”
“Mine is about to get a lot better. Yours may get a lot worse if I have to repeat myself.”
Biting my lower lip to keep from grinning, I slowly move my hands to my lower back. Quickly, I feel Jeremy’s strong hands take ahold of mind, twining the silk tie around my wrists securely, but not tight enough to cut of circulation or cause pain. He begins gathering my skirt at my waist, groaning when makes contact with the skin of my backside.
“No panties.” I hear the satisfaction in his voice.
Jeremy & Tasha
Get into Landon and Melody’s continuing romance and find out if they will make it to Forever. Click here
Hello All,
How’d you like that fan fiction tease? I hope you enjoyed it. Anyway, Tasha and Jeremy’s story is still in the works, but I have another book coming before theirs. If you read the 7 Degrees of Alpha book (link here), featuring myself and six other Jessica Watkins Authors, you should be familiar with Melody and Landon’s story. It may have seemed that their story was complete, but they’ve got more to say. Their book is entitled “Forever” and is a novella. Below is the cover:
I just LOVE this cover so much! Forever will be out sometime before the end of August. In the meantime, be on the look out for some snippets, either here or on my FaceBook fan page!
Hello All!
A few IR authors and myself have decided to do a Flash Fiction. This is when we are given a picture of someone or something and have to come up with a very short story (500 words or less) about it. While I can’t guarantee I will participate in this every month, I was inspired to do so for this month’s image. The picture below reminded me of a character whose story I’m in the beginning stages of writing, so why not make the image about a scene that’s been floating around in my head right? Right. The characters for this month’s Flash Fiction are Jeremy and Tasha. Also, if you want more Flash Fiction, please check out the other authors who are participating. Their blogs are listed below. Enjoy!
*Tasha and Jeremy*
I Have Something to Ask You
“Okay, Tasha, just breathe,” I repeat over and over as I climb out of my Corolla in front of Jeremy’s house. His home is beautiful with its stone siding and perfectly manicured lawn. Noting the garage door is open, I decide to walk up the driveway instead of the path leading to the front door. I’m about three-quarters of the way to the garage door entrance, when I look up and halt in my tracks. Standing there in all of his six-foot two, tanned skin, dark-haired glory is the man I came to see. Shirtless. Holy shit is that a nipple piercing? My mouth becomes dry as the Sahara. I let my eyes rummage over his masculine chest and abs covered in an array of tattoos. My feet move on their own, needing to get closer. I’ve barely noticed that he’s stopped what he’s doing to silently watch me.
“What are you doing here?” his gruff voice draws my attention.
I look up at those piercing green eyes.
“Uh, I’ve come to see you,” I manage to squeak out.
He raises a dark eyebrow, as he pulls a rag from the back of his jeans pocket, wiping his hands. That movement draws my attention to his strong hands. I remember what those hands felt like on my skin the other night at the club. I notice the leather wrist cuffs he is still wearing, the same ones he had on that night. I lick my lips, unconsciously, wondering all the things those hands could do to me.
“Well, you’ve seen me,” he says, almost dismissively, as he tosses the rag to the other side of the garage and steps closer to me. “Is that all you wanted?”
“N-no,” I answer, clearing my throat. “I-I wanted to ask you something.”
His gaze rummages over my entire body, taking in my distressed jeans, off the shoulder t-shirt, and strappy sandals. “So, ask,” his voice is low, seductive.
I inhale deeply before pushing a breath out. Here goes. “I want you to teach me. What I saw at the club the other night. I want to know more and I want you to be the one to teach me.” There I’ve said it.
“You want me to be your Dom?” he questions, tilting his head to stare at me.
I nod.
“Why?”
“Because I-I think you can show me…” I trail off.
“Show you what?”
“What it’s like to experience pleasure in my own body.” Damn, those words were harder to say than I thought.
At that admission Jeremy raises his eyebrows in realization. “You’ve never had an orgasm?” he asks.
Hearing the words out loud makes me feel foolish, immature and I lower my gaze to the ground, shaking my head.
He turns and walks back over to straddle the motorcycle he was working on, folding his arms and lowering his chin to rest on his forearms, staring at me intently.
“No,” he says with finality.
My heart sinks.
More Flash Fiction Authors:
Adrienne D’nelle Ruvalcaba – https://indigoplume.wordpress.com/
Dariel Raye – http://www.pendarielraye.blogspot.com/
Hey Y’all
I’m a few days late with this post, but This is Where I Sleep is now available on Amazon. Click here to head over and pick up your copy if you haven’t already!
Fall 2000
“Welcome to Harvard’s ROTC Program, recruits…” our PT instructor began his spiel that I was sure no one was listening to. It was our first week of early morning PT and my eyes were still fighting to remain open. A few of my friends behind me joked about some of the girls in our program. I’d admit I wasn’t expecting there to be much eye candy in an ROTC program, but looking around I thought a few girls may be worth getting to know. I’d been fucking since the age of fifteen and college now offered a new world of random pussy to get lost in. I was up to the challenge.
“Damn, who’s that?” I heard, Damon ask behind me, with awe in his voice.
I turned to see where he was looking and my breath caught. At about five-six, rich mocha-colored skin, a heart shaped face, made less innocent by intense hazel eyes, there she stood. At eighteen, I still had yet to get used to my physical reactions towards the opposite sex, and I was surprised by my immediate physical response to her. She was dressed in the same ROTC sweat pants and shirt we all were in, but I could see those sweats hid a body made for sin. I heard Damon mumbling about wanting to get to know her and before he got the chance I cut him off and strolled over to her.
“Aww, man, you can’t handle that.”
I tossed him a middle finger and continued on. I was a cocky son of a bitch. I knew my height, tanned skin courtesy of many days spent underneath the Texas sun, and green eyes left women a decade older than me stuttering. I moved up close to her, and reached for a lock of her hair. Don’t ask me why I did that, I just had an insane urge to touch her.
“Today might just be your lucky day,” I murmured low in her ear, twirling her hair in between my fingers.
Stunned, she jumped back and glared at me. “Excuse you?”
Her voice sent shivers down my spine. Not taking heed of the fire blazing in her eyes, I took a step closer. “I said…today is your lucky day, sweetheart.”
She paused and looked me up and down. “And why is that?” she asked.
I chuckled and gave her the most seductive wink I’d perfected. “Because you just caught my eye.”
She looked me up and down again, scornfully, and in pure Coral fashion handed me my ass.
“If today is my lucky day, I should have stayed in bed. Don’t ever touch me again.” And then turned and walked away.
The snickers from behind me alerted me that Damon and our other friends heard the entire exchange. I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs and returned to my group, but continued to stare at the first girl to ever reject me and turn me on at the same time.
Hello Again!
Didn’t think you’d see me so soon, huh? Well, I’m going to try my best to never be gone as long as last time. Anyway, I just finished the blurb for This Is Where I Sleep and wanted to share it with you all. First, I’ll let you all in on a secret of mine. I dislike writing blurbs. Seriously, it consists of condensing 70k+ words into less than 200. In the blurb you want to write enough so readers get a gist of the story and become interested enough to read it, but NOT give the good parts away. *Sighs*. I’m not complaining though, I love writing and sharing these stories with you. So here it is:
Blurb: This Is Where I Sleep
For more than a decade life has been one mission after another for Coral Coleman. This time, Coral is on a mission to find out who tried to kill her two years ago. Unfortunately for whoever it was, they missed her, but took out two of Coral’s teammates—that, she takes personally. Coral has searched far and wide for the elusive “Ghost” who apparently has it out for her. She comes one step closer to finding him when a case involving Bennett Industries falls into her lap.
There’s just one problem.
The current CEO of Bennett Industries is Liam Bennett, the man who was Coral’s best friend turned lover turned heart breaker when he walked away from her without any explanation and married another woman.
For the last five years Liam Bennett has been on his own mission—maintaining control of Bennett Industries while plotting to take down the one man who has kept him from the love of his life. When Coral re-enters Liam’s world for this case, once-buried feelings emerge and secrets are revealed, but most of all, a connection that cannot be denied resurfaces. Liam resolves to put this case to an end and reclaim the woman he has always wanted. He will have to overcome vindictive family members, betrayal by someone in his inner-circle, and most of all, have to work to convince the very stubborn Coral that with him is where she belongs.
Hi All!
It has been SO long since I’ve updated this blog and I apologize for that. It was never my intention to go this long without posting anything, but your girl has been busy. Busy writing!
Tada!!
Yup this is my next book entitled This Is Where I Sleep. And for those who have been asking, yes, this is Coral’s story. If you’ve read Black Butterfly (of course you have!), you will know that Coral is Stacey’s older, kickass sister. Well, Coral’s got a love story to tell and we can’t wait to share it with you. The release date for This Is Where I Sleep is June 3rd. Over the next couple of weeks I will be dropping more information including excerpts, bios of the main characters and the story blurb. Stay tuned!
*Also, I just realized that we are a little more than a month away from the one year anniversary of my first published book, Black Pearl. I think maybe, a short story from Devyn and Nikola, just to catch up on the anniversary would be fun. What do you think?
**Lastly, I’m considering starting a private FaceBook page. There I’ll share upcoming release dates, try to get author interviews/chats, discuss other books in the genre and just have fun. Would anyone be interested in that?
Hi All,
I know this is somewhat short notice, but I can finally share the release date and cover of the third installment of my Black Burlesque Series. The book is entitled Black Butterfly, and yes, is it Andre’s story of finding love! The book is scheduled for release tomorrow, Tuesday December 8th.
I’ve given you some sneak peeks, so here is an image of the cover for the book:
Also, what would a book in the Black Burlesque Series be without some music, right? Here’s the Spotify playlist for the book.
I’ve been working hard on this book and I can’t wait for you all to finally get a chance to get your hands on it! You guys should know by now I LOVE feedback, so feel free to leave a comment, shoot me an email, Facebook message on your thoughts, and if you’re so inclined, to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. I would REALLY appreciate it!
Oh, and speaking of reviews. I was thinking I may start doing reviews of other books on this blog. As a lover of romance, I read A LOT of books, and have come across some really great ones I’d love to share and talk about on here. Would you all like that? Let me know! And, as always, happy reading!!
Hi All,
So my manuscript is complete and has been read over by my betas who all gave me some great feedback! Now, I am just waiting to here back on a release date from my publisher and to get to work on more edits and revisions so it will be perfect for your eyes!
While you wait I wanted to give you a little teaser from Andre and Stacey. You ready for it? Here goes:
Andre parked, rushing out his car door and hurrying to Stacey’s door, to open it before she could even remove her seat belt. When they reached the door to her condo, Andre took the keys from Stacey’s hand, turning her pressing her back against the door. He leaned over his lips lightly touching hers.
“Invite me in,” he said just above a whisper.
“Um, uh,” Stacey sputtered. She couldn’t think with his lips on hers, “I’m not sure–”
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. Invite me in,” Andre insisted, cutting off her response with a quick kiss to her lips.
Hesitating, Stacey stared into his eyes. Though she wasn’t sure how far she was ready to go with Andre just yet, something in his eyes told her she was safe with him. “Come in,” she whispered.
Before the words were even out of her mouth, Andre had inserted her key in the lock and opened the door.
A few weeks ago, a popular IR author posted a negative review on her Facebook page. Negative reviews are common, and not to be unexpected when you put your writing out there for others to read. What made this review particularly negative is that the reviewer admitted to not reading the book. Yup. You read that correctly the reviewer didn’t even read the book, but instead chose to leave a one star review as a “warning” to other prospective romance readers that the heroine in the story was…wait for it…a black woman. The reviewer identified herself as a Hispanic woman, who just couldn’t “relate” to stories about black women and therefore felt it her duty to caution others who may come across this book.
I wish incidents like this were isolated, but they are not. Just the other day on my Facebook page there was a discussion of some authors who write IR, leaving out the physical descriptions of the female heroine, but not the white male hero.
Coincidence?
Simple oversight?
I highly doubt it.
For years, Black authors have discussed how large publishing companies will try to persuade them to either write white characters or downplay the physical characteristics if they must write black or non-white characters. It seems the mainstream audience has trouble relating to non-white characters.
Now, can we think about this?
In the literary world, books featuring wizards, talking animals, witches and aliens are easily put on book shelves, made into movies and sell millions, but stories featuring black people, in particular, romance featuring black women is just too much to relate to? Does that make sense to you? Says a lot about our society when black women being loved and protected is where people throw up their hands because it’s just too absurd a concept.
This is why I write romance featuring black women.
When I first discovered the world of Black romance, I was shocked to discover a genre in which black women were prominently featured as being loved and protected. Today, with digital books allow more black authors to break into the genre and be discovered by their targeted audience. This has created the opportunity for a host of more dynamic and diverse stories featuring black women to be told.
In a world where black women are often told we are too strong, too independent, too masculine, too much of this and not enough of that, and that is why we’re single, unloved and uncared for, romance featuring Black women being loved is my safe space. I enjoy reading and writing about black women who’ve overcome whatever trials they may have gone through, and are able to find love that is worthy of their greatness. These stories allow me to take a few hours out of my day and escape to a world in which a woman being black does not take away from her beauty or humanity. It allows me to read about women with café au lait, caramel or dark chocolate colored skin (excuse the food references), with full lips, thick thighs, wide noses and kinky to relaxed hair not only being the recipient of mind-blowing orgasms but love.
I write romance featuring black women because even as I write this post there is a video circulating social media of a young black girl being tossed from her chair and dragged like an animal from a classroom by a school police officer. In that video not only were the actions of the school officer abhorrent, but the non-reactions of everyone else in the classroom is just as telling. Unfortunately, not even the teacher in that classroom saw that young girl worthy of a “Be careful!” or “Not so rough!” directed at the officer.
I write black women in romance to remind ourselves that we are not the problem.
I write black women in romance as a reminder that our black is beautiful.
I write to remind ourselves that we are worthy of love and protection because the world so often tells us the opposite.
I write black women in romance as a reminder to myself that my worthiness of being loved is not dependent on my proximity to whiteness, but simply because I exist (and you are too 😉 ).
Why do you read romance featuring black women?
Hey Y’all,
First of all, thank you to everyone who messaged and e-mailed me to volunteer to be one of my beta readers. I truly appreciate it and have all your information. I am planning on probably using 3-5 betas per story, and will try to give everyone who messaged me a chance to be a beta reader at some point. I plan on writing plenty of more books so everyone will definitely have a chance to participate 😉
As most of you know, Andre’s story is the next in the Black Burlesque series. For those of you who remember, Andre is Nikola’s younger brother and the CFO at Excel, the financial company started by their father. I wanted to give you all a sneak peek of what I’ve been working on for Andre. As of now, I have about 50,000 words and I’d say I’m about two-thirds of the way through the first draft of his story. I’m thinking a release date around late November to Mid-December may work, but don’t quote me on that. I still need to finish the first draft, work on revisions, send it out to my betas, revise again, send it to my publisher, have it edited, revise yet again, and all the extra stuff that comes with bringing a story from the recesses of my mind to your (the reader’s) fingertips.
Alright, with all that said, on to the excerpt:
Andre stared down at her with such tenderness in his eyes it made her shiver. He placed another kiss to her forehead and Stacey’s heart melted.
Goddamn forehead kisses, she thought remembering back to her conversation with Devyn and Mercedes.
“I won’t ask that of you. I’ll just beat anyone’s ass who tries to touch you,” he said rubbing his face along her cheek.
Stacey knew he meant every word of what he’d said. Smiling, she reached up and grazed her fingers through his beard.
“You know the rule, right?” he asked slyly.
Stacey pulled back, looking at him curiously, “What rule?”
“You touch the beard, you have to sit on it,” he said, quickly moving to pull the stopper out of the drain, and pulling them both up to stand.
Stacey giggled as Andre hurriedly dried them both off, discarded the towel over his shoulder and carried her to his bed, where he made good on his latest rule.
Oh, and if you’re interested here’s a visual of my inspiration for
Andre and Stacey
Hey Y’all?
How are you all doing? Hope you’re well. As of today, it’s been about two weeks since Black Dahlia was released and most of the responses have been very positive. I always welcome feedback no matter how you felt about the story. Whether it is positive, negative or in between. I like hearing your thoughts and questions on my work.
With that said…
I am looking for two to three more beta readers to help me during the revision stages of my books.
Now you might ask, “Tiffany, what’s a beta reader?” Good question. Allow me to explain.
A beta reader is someone who is a fan of the genre and likely the author they are critiquing. They are given a preview of the author’s work after the first one or two (or twelfth) draft has been written, but not published. The job of a beta reader is to give honest feedback and critique on the author’s work.
Here’s a list of questions I’d ask of my beta readers:
These are just some of the questions I would ask of my beta readers. You wouldn’t necessarily be asked to write down each answer and send back responses in a Word document or anything. These are just questions to keep in mind as you read over the story.
I would likely give my betas about a week’s turn around time from when I send out the novel to when I’d need your feedback. I understand most people are busy and this is a favor you are doing for me as an author, so I will do my best not to rush anyone or send readings at the last minute. As a beta reader, I would also require that you not share the writing with anyone else.
Essentially, your job as a beta is to help me avoid producing work like this:
As a beta reader you will get to read the story before anyone else (for free! at that). So it’s a win-win situation. You get to read a (hopefully) enjoyable story and I get some good critique and a chance to produce a better novel for readers.
That’s pretty much it.
If you’re interested in being one of my beta readers. Send me an email at [email protected] with the words “Beta Reader” in the subject line.
Hey Y’all,
It’s been a little while since I last posted, but that’s because I’ve been working! Mercedes and Raul’s story is complete, and scheduled to be released September 1st. With that said, let’s get on to what your waiting for. The cover and title of the next book in the Black Burlesque Series will be…
Drum roll please…
Below is a synopsis of Black Dahlia to whet your palettes a little bit and prepare you for the September 1st drop:
Synopsis:
A year and a half ago Mercedes Holmes and Raul Santiago shared an explosive encounter that ended abruptly. Since then, Mercedes has gone out of her way to keep both her emotional and physical distance from the sexy and charming Brazilian. Now, however, the full-time assistant principal and part-time burlesque dancer finds herself in need of Raul’s security services.
Raul Santiago is the consummate ladies’ man. He’s wealthy, sexy-as-sin, and just dangerous enough to put himself between the woman he’s had his eye on for more than a year and the stranger stalking her. When Raul finds himself not only offering Mercedes his professional services, but opening up his home to her, the undeniable chemistry between the two becomes irresistible. Over the course of one busy, burlesque performance-filled summer, Raul fights to break down Mercedes’ emotional walls, and stop whoever it is that threatens her very life.
And for the pièce de résistance, here’s the Spotify playlist for Black Dahlia. Enjoy!
Greetings All,
How’s everyone doing?
I hope you’re well. I wanted to give an update on what I have coming up in the next few weeks, and to give a little teaser of Raul and Mercedes’ story. I will be having two book discussions in the coming weeks on Facebook. The first is August 1 (this Saturday) at 7pm eastern standard time, hosted by Crystal Moody and the group Violette Dubrinsky’s Fantasyland. The second book discussion will be on Wednesday August 12 at 7pm EST, hosted by S.K. Lessly’s Alpha Addicts group. These are my first book discussions and I am SO excited. I’ve been to a few other book discussions by authors I’ve read, and I enjoy getting to learn the author’s process while they were writing and how they came up with certain story lines. I am looking forward to talking with my readers and getting more of your thoughts and questions.
Secondly, I know I’ve been saying for weeks that Raul and Mercedes’ story is coming (and it is. I promise.). It is currently in the editing stages, but I wanted to give you a little sneak peak from the book to whet your palates! So, without further ado, I present a little from Raul and Mercedes. Enjoy!
“Leaving so soon.” Devyn and Mercedes turned to see Raul approach.
“Yeah, I couldn’t convince her to stay the night,” Devyn answered.
“Uh, yeah. I’ve got some things I need to do tomorrow,” Mercedes tightened her lips wondering why she felt the need to explain herself to him.
“Let me walk you to your car.” He grabbed Mercedes around the waist before she could protest and opened the door. Devyn’s eyebrow raised, but she remained silent.
Mercedes felt a sensation of warmth through her dress, where Raul’s hand pressed into her lower back. She had to force herself not to lean into him.
“This wasn’t necessary. I’m sure Yvette is wondering where you are,” Mercedes said, in an attempt to remind herself and him that he was there with another woman. Other than a small tick in his jaw Raul did not respond, and kept walking to her pine green Kia. As they walked Mercedes inhaled his masculine scent, she knew it was a mix of some type of expensive cologne and a scent that was all Raul Santiago.
“This is it. Thank you,” she said as they arrived at her car. She turned to look up at him when she felt his hand still pressing on the small of her back.
Raul nodded. “You’re welcome, Querida.” Mercedes didn’t know what the last word meant, but she remembered he’d repeated it over and over when they kissed outside his hotel room that night. She shivered just thinking of the way his lips felt as they moved over hers. She unconsciously stared at his lips and licked her own. She didn’t even notice until she saw Raul’s lips turn up into a smile.
“See something you like?” He asked in that wicked tone that shot straight to her core.
“You wish,” she said defiantly pulling her gaze off his lips and up to his eyes. That was even worse. His eyes held a sinful look. He knew she wanted him.
“I do,” he said still smiling.
Mercedes placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t think Yvette would appreciate your talking to me like this. And for that matter neither would Cindy, or did you finally break up with her instead just cheating on her?” Mercedes heard the anger in her own voice but didn’t care.
Raul didn’t rise to the bait.
“I already told you I don’t even know Cindy and I have not seen her since that night. As for Yvette, she’s just a friend.” Mercedes eyed him closely. For some reason she believed him about Cindy, and maybe even Yvette. She couldn’t blame the man for women coming on to him or being attracted to him. He was deliciously attractive, successful in his career, and very wealthy. She looked into his eyes and knew, if given the chance he could make her fall hard for him. She couldn’t allow that.
“If you say so. That’s none of my damn business,” she said stepping back to unlock her car door.
“What if I wanted to make it your business?” He asked flirtatiously. Mercedes tried hard not to smile, but his was infectious. She smiled as the butterflies in her stomach rose.
“I’m leaving now. Goodbye, Mr. Santiago,” she said using his last name, attempting to assert some emotional distance.
“Raul,” he stated in a low, but firm voice.
“What?” she asked caught off guard.
“My name is Raul. Say it,” he commanded.
“Mr. Sa–”
“Raul,” he commanded more sternly stepping closer to tower over her. Mercedes felt the butterflies in her stomach turn into a full on jackhammer as her insides hummed with desire under his watchful gaze. She wanted to be her usual defiant self and let him know she wasn’t the least bit turned on. But, they both knew that would be a lie.
“Raul,” she said just above a whisper.
Those sexy lips of his, again, turned up into a devil’s grin. He’d won this round.
Hey Y’all,
I’m going to come clean, I’ve been struggling a bit with completing the second book. It’s not because I don’t want to finish it. It’s because of a little thing called self-doubt. I’m not a stranger to self-doubt, mind you. Self-doubt is something we all experience at one point or another in our lives. It rears its ugly head whenever we’re embarking on a new adventure (and that’s what writing is for me, an adventure). I certainly had a lot of self-doubt going on when I was writing my first book. However, this is the self-doubt of a different kind.
It’s the doubt born of expectations.
When I was writing Black Pearl, no one knew me. When self-doubt rose, I could tell myself, “Well, if no one likes it, at least you tried. You went after something you wanted.” I could manage that self-doubt by telling myself expectations weren’t high because I was an unknown author. Today, that’s no longer the case. I’ve released my first book, and most of the feedback has been extremely positive.
Now, I’m writing my second book.
As of this moment, I am approximately 80%-90% of the way through my first draft of Raul and Mercedes’ story. This book is different because the main characters are different. Their journey is not the same as Nikola and Devyn’s. It feels easy for me to fall back into a formula that worked the first time around, but that wouldn’t be fair to the characters, the story or the readers. But with this realization come the doubts: Will people like it? What if this story is not up to expectation? What if I’m a ‘one hit wonder’ (so to speak)? These doubts can be paralyzing.
In actuality, I could’ve been done with the first draft of Raul and Mercedes’ story, but self-doubt has often kept me from being able to focus. I’ve definitely gotten better in the last few weeks, and have been more dedicated to completing this story. Each day I get closer and I realize that self-doubt is just something I will have to contend with in this journey as a writer. I’ve said before, my goal with each book is to get better and better. To do that, I need to be okay with stepping out of my comfort zone, trying new things, and actually, you know….write. So that’s what I’ve been telling myself whenever self-doubt creeps in.
Just write.
Editing is a whole other process.
Hey Y’all, Hey!
First, I’d like to say welcome to my slice of the internet! My goal for this website is to be a place where I can update fans on upcoming projects, share ideas on writing and romance, and just have a place to connect with readers. As of right now, I don’t have a set schedule of how often I will update this site. It may be once or twice a week, or a few times a month. It depends on how busy my schedule is, but I will do my best to update as often as possible. To stay updated on posts, you can subscribe to my mailing list and receive emailed notifications of posts. Just enter you name and email address. Simple as that!
Let’s see…what else?
Oh, I want to give a big, huge, THANK YOU to everyone who has purchased, read, or told a friend about Black Pearl. As of today, it has been 8 days since Black Pearl was released under my publisher Jessica Watkins Presents, and the feedback has been great! I am so thrilled that many of you enjoyed my book and took the time out to write a review, send me an email, reach out to me on Facebook, etc. For me, writing is a labor of love. I truly enjoy opening a romance or erotica book and getting lost in the story. I admire so many authors in this genre, and to think that I am now joining the ranks of these writers is truly a blessing (not a word I use lightly!). Writing is my solace, my escape from the world when things get too hectic. I do it to create a world in which love always triumphs. I know that may sound a little (or a lot) corny, but it is what it is. Real life can be a drag sometimes, and romance/erotica offers me an escape.
So, my objective is to keep writing and providing you all with stories you enjoy. Speaking of which, I will be spending my 4th of July weekend working on the second book in the Black Burlesque Series. Mercedes and Raul’s story is a work in progress, and even I’m surprised at the twist and turns they’re story is taking, but I’m enjoying it just the same. I can’t wait until it all comes together.
Thanks for stopping by, and enjoy your holiday weekend!
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