Dabney had finally done it, she made the perfect vanilla cupcake! The smell was so intoxicating it brought her longtime friend and neighbor Camron knocking at her door. However, what Camron wanted was more than just a taste of her latest baked goodies. He was about to let his bountiful beautiful baker know that what he wanted was not so French Vanilla.
This is a free read to a story I finished around eight years ago. It was written in first person and I would like to say that I’ve grown. But since I can’t sit on this and I’m cleaning up my files, for your reading pleasure. Click the link above.
I’m an extremely dominant woman and usually can’t be told what to do, unless it is in role-play, but unless you are my mate, don’t even think about it. So, what I concluded is that I have a very hard time hearing ‘you belong to this box’. I belong in no-one’s box. So I did not write a non-interracial book to irritate fans or to do anything but the obvious: to avoid being pigeon-holed. I could have come up with another pseudonym but I already have enough muses talking to me, I really don’t need another ‘voice’ coming at me with ideas. So I wrote a non-IR work for no other purpose but to flex my literary muscle.
Love is colorless
It doesn’t matter what color of skin you live in, all that matters is that love conquers all things. Now, could I take some flack for not being a certain color and writing about a heroine in that color? Yep, but I’m not hearing you. Love is colorless and no matter your pigment, you know distress, you know romance and you know emotions. Emotions are not based upon how much melanin is in your skin or what ‘hood’ you grew up in. As far as I know, rage is rage, hurt is hurt and love is love.
The New Release
As you can tell from the cover, this is a non-Interracial book that exceeds color lines. LOOK AT THAT COVER! How could you not want to write about them? Look at that embrace, the look in their eyes. It is sensual, seductive and erotic. How could I not craft a story for this wonderful couple?
So now that you know somewhat why I wrote this touching and endearing story of a PTSD suffering Marine and a touch therapist, how about an excerpt to entice you?
Blurb – Massage therapist Celine Beauregard came across all types of people in her line of work; those who were nice, and those who could be classified as the scum of the earth. Then there was Gunnery Sergeant Xerxes Talmay, a war-weary vet with a case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Something always ached in Celine when she set eyes on the tall handsome Marine, and her job was to help. The soldier needed different therapy, and Celine decided it was time to initiate the man to the true power of touch.
Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her. She’d like to think she’d always kept the relationship between her and Xerxes one hundred percent professional, but in his arms now, she questioned why she always made him the last appointment of her day. Maybe it was because she wanted his face to be the last face she saw before she settled in for the evening.
“I’ve never tried to dance with a client before, Xerxes. This isn’t typical.” Celine felt like she needed to defend what she was doing in his arms, as if there was some sort of code of conduct she signed. The only code she was going by was her own personal morals, and she didn’t want to feel like she was taking advantage of someone.
“I wouldn’t think it was typical for you, and if I had any inkling that it was, you wouldn’t have seen me after the first session. I’m a Marine, Celine. I’m trained to spot inconsistencies.”
“Then you and I are a lot alike. I’m trained to spot them as well. Care to tell me what you think your anchor is, since I’ve been trying to figure it out,” Celine said. She didn’t expect him to twirl her around and dip her in a move that could have been in a Fred Astaire movie. When he pulled her into his embrace, and wrapped his arms around her, her body involuntarily shuddered with delight.
“My guess is that my anchor,” Xerxes said as he looked her up and down, “is you.” His gaze strayed to her lips again. She knew he was going to kiss her even before he licked his lips. It was the look in his eyes, and she wasn’t going to stop him. Her eyes fluttered closed even as he took his time leaning down to her lips.
The kiss was as soft as a whisper, at first, dancing across her lips, leaving the memory of his mouth on hers. Working with Xerxes over the past months, she’d always kept her distance, letting him find his own pace with their sessions. Now, in his arms, she realized the months of touching him, trying to soothe him, she’d formed an attraction to him that went beyond his mere physical appearance.
He raised his head from the kiss, his deep brown eyes burrowing into hers, making her feel hot, desired, wanton and scared shitless all at the same time. She met his gaze unwaveringly, and tried to read his expression. It was lust for sure. She’d seen that plenty times before. However, Xerxes lustful look contained just enough longing to make her womanhood clench.
“Will you be my anchor?” He asked as his lips descended on hers again, this time, the light kisses were gone. His tongue plundered her mouth as if he was on a mission to capture every single one of her breaths and inhale it as his own. Over her mouth, his tongue raked against her lips, his teeth nipping the corners, his hands roaming over her bare back. Every motion whipped up a frenzy of lust that made her feel faint. He broke the kiss, and she had to take in big gulps of air.
“Anchor me, Celine. Be the calm in the midst of the noise.”
If you want more, click the cover and head on over to Beautiful Trouble Publishing to get your copy.
Until we meet again, love is limitless, color outside the lines and break free from stereotypes.
Ahhhhh, it has been a while hasn’t it people? I haven’t blogged for much of anything in the past year, but I have a good reason! Life has changed, and so has my writing style. As a kid, do you remember all those little anecdotes they told you in English class to help you get through your writing? “Show, don’t tell.” “Write what you know.” etc…? Well I’m here to tell you, that at least that part of school was not total bunk.
Show, don’t tell… I wanted to show readers what it is like to be in conflict. I wanted you to FEEL it… Can you, as the reader, feel what it is that heroine/hero is going through. So I’ve changed the way I write because, simply, life has changed. Gone are the days where things are black and white. At 33, I’ve found that life is loud and in color. There are blue moments, red moments, orange moments, brown moments, and ultraviolet moments. Let me bring you one of those moments – Presenting Love as Wide as the Atlantic –
LOVE AS WIDE AS THE ATLANTIC –
Why would I write something that is emotionally engaging as well as full of the hot and steamy stuff? Because that is what life is! What I’ve learned is that anything that is hot, steamy, erotic or highly sensual will have an emotional tie to it. Don’t let anyone tell you that there is just sex to be sex… Ok, I will rephrase, don’t let a man tell you sex is just sex. Anything that is worth having in your life even if it is a one night stand, is an emotional thing. Sometimes you just feel like ‘you gotta have it’, well that’s emotion folks. So now, what do you do when faced with a question that could flip everyone that you know world’s upside down…. I would say…ask Alexia…What would you have done?
Alexia Woods came to know the phrase “stuck between a rock and a hard place” all too well during her college years. The rock? Cody Slater. The hard place? Heath McCormack. As their days slowly dwindled, leading up to graduation Alexia resigned herself to the fact that their oh so manageable relationship wouldn’t be oh so manageable anymore and gave her boys a farewell that she believed would last forever, just like her heartbreak from having to say goodbye. So why is it years down the line she finds herself Cody’s date to Heath’s wedding–a wedding that as far as she’s concerned shouldn’t be taking place because in her heart of hearts she knows both men belong solely to her? What’s a girl to do when her love is not only as wide as the Atlantic but just as deep and tumultuous too?
Cody Slater looked at the gold filigree lettering on the wedding announcement and
invitation again. He couldn’t believe his best friend was actually going to marry that gold digger.
He loved Heath like a brother, but he couldn’t let this mistake continue, and he didn’t honestly
believe that Heath even liked the dimwit blonde his parents had picked out for him, let alone
loved her enough to marry her.
Tapping the card on his chin, he needed to think. What he really needed was a drink,
but he’d sworn off the stuff years ago after a two-day binge trying to forget he’d driven Alexia to
the airport. He’d gotten into a fight, had his nose broken, and called Heath a spoiled rotten rich
kid that wouldn’t have let Alexia walk away if he had taken the silver spoon from his mouth.
The insults he’d hurled at Heath were nothing compared to the ache he felt inside when he
thought of Alexia.
Not that he thought Alexia would actually stay if Heath had renounced all his wealth.
She was too independent and headstrong to care about money. Cody had felt a twinge of
jealousy when Alexia seemed more concerned about Heath’s welfare than his own. That was the
moment when she’d shared with him the one thing that had cut him up more than her leaving
did. Her words echoed through his mind now as he got up to retrieve his laptop. When this is over, you two will still be best friends and have each other. I on the other hand, won’t have anyone. Cody will need his parents and his wealth, and you will need your best friend.
He wanted to tell her then that she would always have them both, but that was a lot for a
twenty-two year old kid to promise, no matter how sure he’d been then. As that kid, he
couldn’t commit to her then, and he couldn’t scream that they were what she needed. Cody
kicked himself mentally every moment since she’d been gone. There had been nothing he could
do then. He didn’t want to damage their relationship by pushing her too soon, but he lost her
Heath hadn’t fully recovered from losing Alexia either, and Cody knew that. Once best
of friends, he barely talked to Heath except for at Christmas and their birthdays. Losing Alexia
had torn them apart as well, so she had been wrong about that much.
At that moment, Cody began to see it all too clear. He was going to save Heath, and
maybe in the process save them all from continuing to make the biggest mistake of their lives.
Grabbing his cell phone, he punched a few numbers and waited.
“Heath McCormack’s office. Paige speaking.” Cody had to stifle a laugh. “Paige” had to
have been the fourth secretary that Heath had in as many years. Before Paige there had been
Beth, Heather, and Tamia. His buddy could be a cold callous ass when it came to his business,
but Heath had a score to settle with his father, even if he would never acknowledge the fact.
“Hello Paige, can you tell Heath that Cody Slater is on the line?” After a few seconds he
heard the frustrated sigh of his friend on the line.
“Heath, damn, not even a ‘how are you, buddy?’” Cody bristled but quickly let out a
“No. It’s not my birthday or Christmas so I can’t imagine why you are calling.”
“Um, do you think it has anything to do with this ivory invitation I got in the mail?”
Silence. Dead silence. Anyone else would have thought Heath hung up the phone. Cody
“I didn’t realize they’d gone out. I’m not really involved in the plans.” Heath’s voice was
strained, as if his wedding was a topic he didn’t want to talk about. Well, tough shit, Cody had
enough of this loneliness.
“So did they pick out your best man too, or is there still time for me to get fitted for a
tux?” Cody knew Heath for almost twenty years, and he knew Heath would not swallow an iota
of pride to ask him to be his best man.
“Cody…would you? I mean, if you aren’t busy…I know I haven’t been in contact…but…”
“Quit stammering. Of course I’m going to be there. Now, is that best man spot still open
“I’ll be bringing a guest. I can’t be left all alone with Kim’s bridesmaids.”
“Oh yeah? What lucky lady gets to see you try to dance?”
Cody laughed, a genuine laugh this time. The previous times Heath and him talked, it
was a strained tense cough at best.
“I wouldn’t call her lucky, but she is definitely a lady. But I will get in a few days early so
we can have a true bachelor party and stay up all night like we used to.”
“But without drunk goats and whipped cream highs, right?” It was Heath’s turn to
laugh. Cody remembered those moments very well from their college days.
“I make no guarantees. See you in a few weeks.”
“Can’t wait. Cody?”
“Oui, mon ami?”
“Thanks. Bonne nuit.”
“Bonne nuit, bud.”
Cody hung up the phone in a daze. He couldn’t believe that Heath had told him
goodnight in French. It had been ‘their’ thing when they were settling down for the nights.
Alexia, Cody and Heath would snuggle into the oversized California king bed, and each one of
them would tell each other goodnight in French, it was one of the many things they’d all had in
Heath speaking French had to be some sort of sign, and to Cody that sign was that Heath
had not moved on, and he must have been thinking about their relationship with Alexia. With
any luck, and a lot of hope, Cody would have them all back together, and not just fond memories
to hold on to at night.
So, my dear reader, you can choose to see what Alexia decided and after hearing all three sides of the story, what would you have done? Sometimes in life you have to choose to attack the fear of a situation rather than run from it. Attacking fears is one thing that will set you apart from those who just ‘get by’ in life and those who actually live life…Live life and attack fear…that is what I learned from Alexia. Writing her as a character made me stronger as a person because I learned one thing – Nothing gets done by doing nothing. In the blink of an eye your world can change, don’t just lay there.
If you would like another scene from the tumultuous lives of Alexia, Heath and Cody, check out Prelude to Launch, the steamy short prequel.
Are you ready for a little treat? This inexpensive little treat will definitely get you revved and ready. Are you ready for a little heat to start your summer off just right?
I know, enough with the questions right? (See what I did there *smirk*) The tax season is finally over and we all get a little punch drunk and woozy during those times. Let’s face it, working into all hours of the night, your mind tends to run away with you. You never know what may happen once your brain is fogged.
Take Sasha Nickels for example. She works hard and well…take a peek ~
The April tax deadline is fast approaching for Sasha Nickels, and the last thing she needs is an unannounced visit from her questionable client Cesar Parisi and his associate Sonny Amato. Cesar and Sonny are two men who won’t take no for an answer. Obedience is expected.
When they show up unannounced on the busiest tax day of the year, she wants give them both a good piece of her mind. However, Cesar and Sonny make it known they’ll take a piece of her mind, but they want her body as well…
It was difficult to stand in their menacing presence one at a time, let alone both of them at the same time. They both stood well over six feet, but Sonny had the advantage by an inch. The stare down couldn’t last all night. She moved to the side and pushed her hair behind her ears. Keep it quick and simple, stick to the points, and don’t think about touching their hair. Touching their hair was always on her mind, as Sonny’s hair was jet black and Mr. Parisi’s hair was a tussle of blonds and browns. For the two years of their working relationship, she was more often tempted to touch their hair than their money. Clearing her throat, she motioned to the leather chairs in front of the desk. She watched as they sat and noticed there wasn’t a briefcase between them. What the hell is going on?
“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Mr. Parisi?”
Sasha walked to her desk, sat down, and folded her arms in front of her.
“Come on, Sasha.” His voice dipped, and her name sounded like a melodic seduction rather than a greeting. “You’ve known me for years now. Can’t you bring yourself to call me Cesar?”
Not if I want to keep myself from sitting in your lap as if you’re Santa.
“Mr. Parisi, I’m a busy woman.”
“And Mr. Parisi is a busy man.” Sonny’s voice was as gruff as always. She cut her gaze to him. Like she didn’t know that.
“Since we are both so busy, why don’t we skip this verbal sparring and get to the point of why you’re here?” She’d directed her question at Sonny, but it was Cesar who answered.
That wasn’t what she’d expected.
“You said to drop the verbal sparring and that is exactly what I’m doing. Sasha, mia cara, you’ve done an amazing job for me for the last few years, and I wanted to show you that I’m more than grateful.”
“Send me a bottle of Chianti and a box of chocolates and we’ll call it even.” She waved him off with a flick of her wrist and picked up her pencil with the other hand. Sasha didn’t have time for this. She needed to review returns and try to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.
“You are worth far more than a box of chocolates and some wine,” Sonny said. For once, he didn’t sound ticked off.
She turned to look at him. In her line of work, as frigid as it may seem, she wasn’t surprised by much. In her life, being the only child, growing up dirt poor and having barely enough to eat, she could match attitude for attitude, but this bad cop, good cop or whatever these two were doing was unraveling her carefully constructed wall of self-preservation.
“Your eyes are sparking. Does that mean you are interested, mia cara?” Sonny’s voice was definitely lethal, and he was using it to his full advantage. She’d never bothered to wonder if her eyes sparked or not because they were hidden behind her glasses most of the time. Sasha stared at him a long time before she spoke.
“Interested in what, Sonny? You haven’t proposed anything for me to be interested in.”
“A proposal would be a bit premature. How about one night together first? We’ll get around to wedding plans later.”
Want to know how Sasha responds? Pick it up: Available at the Beautiful Trouble Publishing website ONLY:
“This is for you, Kailee. Open your mouth.” Charles’ accented voice was close to her ear, and she didn’t really give a damn about anything but the comforting massage Chad was giving her. Her lips parted, and she felt the tip of a strawberry caress her tongue. Tickling the tip of the strawberry just a bit before she bit into it, Kailee moaned as the fresh fruit hit her taste buds. Her cravings had hinged on strawberries lately, and the taste of the red fruit only relaxed her more. If they were going to massage her and feed her strawberries, she didn’t need a huge party. She would have been content sitting still right here.
“Delicious, I bet. Let me taste.” Kailee didn’t have time to think as she felt Charles’ lips press against hers, softly at first, his tongue licking the corner of her mouth before his lips firmly pressed against hers. Her gasp quickly turned into a moan as his lips gently worked against hers.
“I’ve wondered what your lips taste like, Kailee. It’s my turn.” Phillips’ voice sounded needy and full of desire. She felt the half-bitten strawberry trace her lips again before a different set of lips descended onto hers, encasing her mouth with gentle pressure. His mouth worked over hers, dancing from the top lip to the bottom lip until she was breathless.
Yes, I did it. My first light BDSM tale. I fear I haven’t been completely honest with you all. I like kink. I’m not sure if that was a confession or just a ‘just so you know’ announcement. Shara Azod LLC knows a little something about kink. I’m pleased to throw my name into their marvelous Whipped Dreams line. For those of you who know the imprints works, you know that Whipped Dreams center around BDSM or D/s story lines. I took it one step further. This time, the heroine is the Domme.
Below is the blurb and a spicy little excerpt to get you wondering. Click the link, buy the tale, and warm up your holiday season with a bit a sugar, spice and and a whole lot of kink.
Athena Divan had it good; her own company, a premium New York apartment and a secret. Gerard Bourdain was much the same; his own company, a premium New York apartment, a restless spirit and a secret. These two had butted heads in the board room, but they were about to find they had a lot more in common when their secrets collide at the Black Tie bondage club.
The only thing is, Athena was Mistress Minerva. She knew who he was, but Gerard was in the dark about her secret identity. Would she take the opportunity to have a bit of revenge at Gerard’s expense? Of course. Yet, could she keep herself in check and not step over the line and jeopardize her identity?
As he stood on the other side of the door, he took a deep breath. This mistress was supposed to be the best, as the owner kept telling him. A second generation dominatrix. He’d never heard of such a thing. Pushing the heavy
door open, he stepped into the room.
His stomach immediately tightened when his eyes focused on the woman
perched on the throne. She looked like a deity, her shoulders back and her long
legs crossed in a striking pose. Her mouth was pursed, and her burgundy
lipstick looked like a fine wine staining her lips. The black masquerade mask
did little to hide her features. Her high cheekbones stood out in the dim
lighting, but her eyes were the most striking almond color he’d ever seen.
He swallowed hard. She raised her arm and, in a regal movement, turned
her palm upward and curled her fingers forward, beckoning him to her. He
dropped his head and took slow steps toward her. He stopped a mere foot away
from his appointed mistress. For the first time, he was intimidated by a woman.
His mother didn’t intimidate him, and she threw her weight around better than
any man he’d met.
“Well, well, well,” his mistress said in a husky, breathless tone. She
uncrossed her legs and stood. Her heels didn’t make a sound as she walked
toward him across the carpeted floor.
Without pausing, she began to walk around him, looking him up and
down. He didn’t dare move his head to follow her movements, knowing that
would bring him punishment. The leather of her glove felt cool as she laid the
palm of her hand against the small of his back. The simple touch made his cock
“Mmmm. There is nothing I like more than fresh meat.” She smacked his
ass with an echoing slap that stung his flesh even through the leather pants.
Her palm cupped his ass in a soothing motion, and she began to rub his
stinging cheek as if to soothe the sting. The smell of her hung in the air, and it
was all he could think about as he tried to force himself to breathe in through
his nose and out through his mouth.
“What is your name, slave?”
I’ve got a new release for you all and it is longer than most stories I’ve written. I’ve always wanted to create a vampire. I didn’t think I had enough knowledge to create a believable one. Let’s face it, I was a pre-teen when Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles hit bookstores and Ms. Rice created such angst and believable characters, I was convinced that she’d captured what a vampire should be. I’ve been hooked on the blood suckers ever since. I read every book in that series, some of them twice. A part of me hid away the desire to create a vampire universe because I thought it would be too time consuming. The thought nagged at me for years. Finally, on a whim, a hunch and a really good bottle of red wine, I tied myself to the computer and created this. Book One in my Midnight series, Midnight and Mayhem. Continue reading for an excerpt.
Etienne Le’Maistre was dedicated to hunting rogue vampires and anything that threatened his status as the vampire leader of his coven. Everything he did was part of his vow as a warrior and a leader. When he heard the terrifying screams of a child in the night, he acted from a new perspective, that of protector. Saving the life of a human mother and child from a vampire attack was just a part of his duty—or so he thought.
Thirty years later, that child was a grown China Kincaid. Since that fateful night, she’d focused all of her energy on one thing: revenge. She knew vampires were real and she was going to kill them all, or die trying. When her hunting led her back to Etienne, the vampire who’d saved her all those years ago, China realized there was another world out there she didn’t know. Would she be able to survive in Etienne’s world of midnight and mayhem?
“Miss Kincaid, please understand you are going to start a lot of trouble, and I can assure you there are less understanding people out there than I. You could get hurt.”
“People, you aren’t people! You are dead things playing alive and you…”
Before Etienne could stop himself, he rounded the desk and had China in his arms. He looked down at her shocked face, her pink mouth slightly agape, yet her eyes half-lidded, as if she was drunk. There was nothing he could do against the strong pull to kiss her. Before he could find the willpower not to kiss her, his hand had entwined in her ponytail and he tugged her hair back just a bit. His lips danced lightly over hers, kissing, prodding. The pleasure of her mouth on his forced him to keep his top lip curled over his incisors, even as they began to descend. He didn’t want to nip her. However, there was nothing he could do to shield her from the hard line of his painfully aroused cock pressing into her stomach.
Breaking the kiss with a hiss, Etienne backed away from China and made sure she saw his gaze. He knew what he looked like caught in lust: his eyes would be glowing, and his skin would be flushed. His pronounced canines would be gleaming by now, fully descended and ready for a drink.
“Did that feel so dead to you, Miss Kincaid?” Her hand flew to her lips in horror. He told himself that he kissed her to make her see the danger she was in, but he just couldn’t bring himself to believe that lie.
I love Autumn! I love the smell, the sounds of leaves crunching under your feet. Your eyes become sensitive to all the sensitive hues of orange, yellow and gold… Which is why I had to give Autumn its own book in the Seasons of Love series. There was “Disturbing the Yuletide” then “Shaking up the New Year” and now you have “Falling Leaves in Autumn.” Check out the excerpt below and enjoy!
Justine Marshall is in a mood. Not that she doesn’t adore the fact that her best friend Topaz is was marrying the great love of her life; she’s ecstatic, but being alone while trying to plan the wedding to end all weddings has her in a funk and admittedly jealous. In an effort to keep her emotions from spilling into Topaz’s happy day, Justine comes up with one surefire solution: find a bed buddy.
Clark Pinot has been trying to get Justine’s attention for months, which is the only reason he volunteered to go shopping with the guarded woman in the first place. When she comes to him with the ridiculous idea of being her “booty call,” he sees it as the one opportunity to prove he isn’t the Casanova she thinks he is and what he wants is much more than a tumble in the sack. Breaking down Justine’s defenses won’t be easy, but he’s determined to see them fall like the leaves in autumn.
**EXCERPT**The sun was setting, casting a comforting orange glow over the turning leaves. It was my favorite time of year, the transition into autumn, and I found the hues of oranges, yellows, and reds comforting. Taking in a deep breath, letting the partially chilled air fill my lungs, I knew I had to get a grip. What are you doing? You know dang well Clark Pinot is nothing but a rolling stone with an accent. Who’s to say you can’t have a bit of a fling before he leaves? I sighed. Flings weren’t in my nature. Even as I tried to summon up some of my courage to just flirt with the man, I couldn’t even do that. It’s funny how when you are warring with yourself, you can’t pick a side.
“Well that is one way to end a discussion.” His voice made me gasp. It was a rich baritone that vibrated when he laughed, like it was doing now. I had to cross my legs to keep my wayward womanhood under control.
“There was nothing to discuss. You have your opinion, and I’ve got mine. You don’t make it in this world without having to drop the rose-colored glasses sometimes. I’m not jaded on love, I just don’t think it is perfect, and I haven’t found the other half to my imperfection yet, just like you, Clark.”
“I can see that, Justine.” Oh the way he said my name made me want to curl up beside him and purr. Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to even entertain the idea of making a bed buddy out of Clark. It would be too dangerous.
“So, you want to take some bags with you back to…” His lips touched mine before I even realized he was standing that close to me. It was a gentle, tentative, and explorative kiss that left me breathless. His hand, which was resting slightly on my shoulder, moved down my biceps, down my forearm, and then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more of his subtle touches, his large, tanned fingers intertwined with mine. It wasn’t the kisses I’d read about and hoped for in my novels, the ones that bruise your lips, but a light kiss, an appetizer with the promise of so much more.