Another Year, A New Year
About eighteen months ago, I was in one of my favorite places ever, a small town in Michigan where I take my kids to visit with their uncle and his family every other summer. It was the year my health had finally started going haywire enough that I was able to find a couple of solutions (and even more questions). It was a time when I was heading into self-publishing and taking control of my career, and also the time when my ability to write was beginning to break down.
About eighteen months ago, I was in one of my favorite places ever, a small town in Michigan where I take my kids to visit with their uncle and his family every other summer. It was the year my health had finally started going haywire enough that I was able to find a couple of solutions (and even more questions). It was a time when I was heading into self-publishing and taking control of my career, and also the time when my ability to write was beginning to break down. It was a scary and happy and not-always-clear time for me. When I saw this mug, it was a reminder that I just had to be strong, to believe in myself. The irony is that, here I am, eighteen months later, sitting beside my Christmas tree sipping wassail from the same mug and remembering how much courage the intervening time has taken. I'm recovering from a surgery I never imagined I'd need. I have seven books under my belt. I'm still figuring out the whole self-publishing thing and how to balance my life and career. And frankly, parts of the past year have scared the hell outta me. But I'm still here.
And now I'm finding the courage for another year ahead. More challenges, personally and professionally, more accomplishments, definitely more ups and downs -- it's life, so that's a given! And yet, it's not all about courage, really. Getting up every day and facing the day ahead is sometimes just managing to put one foot in front of the other. And sometimes it's about trust, even when you can't see what the future holds.
I'll be honest: the past eighteen months have not been the journey I expected. It's hard to trust the process, whether it's writing a book or getting through life, when previous experience tells you it might not be good. Many of us hold back on trust for that reason, don't we?
But in order to have the life we want, we have to look forward, not back, not all the time. We have to face the journey and trust that it will teach us what we need to learn.
I have a friend who recently moved across the country. No plan, not even a place to live. My friend was alone, without any responsibilities to others, and decided that a clean slate, a fresh start was exactly what this phase of their life called for. And despite it being scary, they have decided to trust the journey to take them where they need to go. I wish I had that kind of courage. I think I do, somewhere inside me; I think we all do if we decide it's there.
This New Year, it's time to shed everything but the lessons the past has taught us and step forward into a new year's journey. I plan to trust the process, good or bad, but I'm pushing for good. :)
What about you? Where is your journey taking you this year?
~ Ella
Romance Readers' Movie Night!
Are you a romance reader? Wanna have a girls' night out but too tired to go anywhere? My friends in the Nice Girls Writing Naughty group have the solution! Every month we feature a different event just for romance readers, and this month's event is a GIRLS' NIGHT IN.
Are you a romance reader? Wanna have a girls' night out but too tired to go anywhere? My friends in the Nice Girls Writing Naughty group have the solution! Every month we feature a different event just for romance readers, and this month's event is a GIRLS' NIGHT IN.
The Nice Girls are hosting a Movie Night, a time for all of us to get comfy in our jammies, pop some popcorn, grab a drink or two, and cuddle up with the movie While You Were Sleeping. We'll chat about the movie, laugh until soda comes out our noses, and enjoy some great girl time together with you, our readers. Don't tell anyone, but there's a rumor going around that some of us might show up at the party IN PERSON (via video). How awesome is that?!
If you want to join me and a bunch of awesome romance authors and readers (and we SO hope you do!), rent a copy of While You Were Sleeping from your favorite rental place or grab it off Netflix...or your shelf if you already have it. (I do. :) ) Then go over to the Facebook event and join in -- you're definitely invited. And on DECEMBER 13th from 6:00 to 8:00 PM EST, settle in with your movie, snacks, and Facebook for fun, fun, fun!
Come late if you have to. We'll be talking all night, as well as giving away gift cards to our readers as a thank-you for all your wonderful support this year. I can't wait to see you then!
~ Ella
Teaser Tuesday: Only for the Weekend
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
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The quiet snick of the door opening quickened his heartbeat. He knew what Jane saw as she walked in—a dark, still room, a single recessed light illuminating the space before a large seating area. Shadowed corners. Emptiness. She knew she was meeting him here, but not that he was already waiting in the room.
He took the time to look her over, holding back the breath that threatened to escape too loudly as he did so. She was as lovely as he remembered. Shoulder-length blonde hair curled around her head, making his fingers twitch with the need to twine the soft strands around them. Her eyes were dark in the dim light, a contrast to those flirty curls and a reflection of the seriousness of her soul. Full pink lips trembled with nerves, as did the hands currently clasped tightly together in front of her. Anticipation swelled in his chest. He would soothe those nerves, but not yet; sometimes a little fear could go a long way with a sub.
Lovely wasn’t the word to describe her body. Sexy, definitely. Earth-shattering. His heart beat triple time in his throat as his gaze moved over her. A tight-fitting white button-down, top buttons open to reveal the upper swell of her round breasts. A short, curves-skimming black skirt. As she turned to close the door behind her, he glimpsed a thin band of lace through a small slit up the back. Only the briefest hint, but blood pooled in his groin immediately at the sight of her stockings, the old-fashioned kind that attached to garters and a garter belt. So like Jane—shy and yet intensely provocative, all at once. He couldn’t fucking wait to see those pale thighs framed by the sexiest garment a woman could ever put on her body.
With a stern reminder to his anatomy that sex wasn’t in the cards, at least not for him—a reminder his body laughed at—he shifted his weight, bringing him barely into the edge of the light. “Jane.”
He kept his voice low, but still she startled. The trembling in her hands increased. She tugged her full bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made him want to bite as well, but not yet. He waited, instead, forcing control so that she could look her fill.
Her gaze took in his half mask first, a piece of soft black fabric covering the top half of his face and head, leaving everything but his eyes and jaw and ears a mystery. Even most of his hair was covered, and what could be seen at the back of his head hopefully didn’t shine too brilliantly red in the shadowed room. She measured the width of his shoulders, his height. Her nostrils flared as if trying to breathe him in, to determine who he was, whether or not she was safe, by scent alone.
She didn’t speak. Good.
“Come in,” he told her.
A hesitant “Yes, Sir” accompanied her steps farther into the light. The yellow glow lit a fire in her hair as she tucked her chin, dropping her gaze to the vicinity of his boots. The Dom in him purred its approval.
“Kneel for me, Jane.”
There was no hesitation this time. With a feminine grace rare in a first-time sub, she sank to her knees. Head still bowed, knees parted just enough to show off the lace atop her stockings, hands at the small of her back.
His gut clenched. She’d been practicing. For him.
Logically he knew it hadn’t been for him personally. She didn’t know the masked Dom before her was the man she’d propositioned as a teenager. She only knew the mask hid a Dom. But telling himself that didn’t stop the flare of possession and satisfaction burning its way through his chest.
Ignoring the dangerous emotions inside him, he walked forward, his steps heavy, deliberate. No leather for him except the boots. He’d chosen black button-fly jeans and a black silk shirt. The fabric cupped him, slid along his skin as he moved, and he imagined it was Jane’s hands on him, molding along his cock, brushing his pierced nipples. He barely held back a groan as he circled Jane’s kneeling body.
She turned her head the slightest amount, probably trying to keep him in sight. He laid a single finger along her jawline. “Eyes down.”
Jane shivered as she obeyed. Oh yes, definitely submissive.
He circled her again, this time allowing his finger to trace her lips, her cheekbone, the delicate curve of her ear. As he moved behind her, he delved into her curls, indulging himself in their soft texture before fisting the thick mass and tugging her head back. Jane kept her eyes lowered, but she couldn’t keep her breath from catching, and as he looked down her body, he could see the tight tips of her breasts forced against the fabric of her shirt.
“You’ve read and signed the contract.” A statement. He knew she had; he’d read every line. But he wanted the acknowledgment between them—and to hear her voice.
A moment’s quiet, then, “Yes, Sir.”
That word on her lips… He bent over her, letting her feel his size, his heat, his power. “And you are certain you wish to proceed, sub?”
No pause. “Yes, Sir. I wish to proceed.”
He stood, trailing his fingers through her hair, showing his pleasure at her response. “And what is your safe word?”
Her voice quivered as she responded. “Weekend, Sir.”
Weekend. The word hit him like a two-by-four to the head. A reference to his band, Weekend Washout, or a reminder that she was only his for the weekend?
She’s not yours, dickhead. You’re an experiment, nothing more.
But would he be if she knew who he was?
If she knew who you were, you’d be out on your ass.
He couldn’t forget that. Jane must never find out the identity of her first Dom. And he… Well, he could never forget her. At least he would have this.
He moved away, taking a position between Jane and the light. His shadow covered her. “‘Weekend’ it is. If you feel overwhelmed, need to pause or talk or just catch your breath, you will use ‘yellow.’ Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
That breathy voice, ripe with arousal and fear, threw gasoline on the fire of his lust, threatening to burn out of control. He needed to shut that part of himself down, needed to focus completely on his sub. But just like his body had warned him earlier, he couldn’t. All he could give her was every piece of him—lust, dominance…everything.
“Then stand.”
Without a word Jane rocked back onto her heels and came to her feet. Regret ached in his shaft as the hem of her skirt once more covered the delicate bands of lace circling her thighs, but he was about to see so much more.
“Undress for me, sub.”
~ ~ * ~ ~
ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is available at major e-retailers:
And keep an eye out for If Only Book 2, ONLY FOR THE NIGHT, coming April 2016.
Release Day PARTY!
ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is here! It's been a long time coming, it seems, though TAKE ME only released at the end of June, a mere five months ago. I think I just got used to having a new book out every other month. :) But...no more waiting! You can read Jane and Vincent's story right now, for only 99 cents.
ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is here! It's been a long time coming, it seems, though TAKE ME only released at the end of June, a mere five months ago. I think I just got used to having a new book out every other month. :) But...no more waiting! You can read Jane and Vincent's story right now, for only 99 cents. And while you head over to grab your copy, I'm going to be putting on some music, because you know it's not a release day party around here without a book playlist and all the fun details behind the music I chose. So go download your book, and then come back here for some fun behind-the-scenes facts!
*By the way, don't forget to read all the way to the end to find out how to enter my release day giveaway. Two readers will win a heart-lock-and-key necklace from Oddoleather!*
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Each of my books has a "theme song." I can't help it; I write to music, and not the instrumental kind. I'm inspired by sound and emotion, and each book has a song that tends to grab on and not let go. Much to my dismay, Vincent and Jane didn't want to cooperate in this area for quite some time. In fact, the only song that seemed to catch THEIR attention was one I really didn't want to like.
You know who won that battle, don't you? ;)
So yes, the theme song for ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is by the one-and-only Taylor Swift: "Style." And it fits Jane and Vincent so damn well.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CmadmM5cOk&w=560&h=315]
*
What else was on the list? Oddly enough, another female artist ended up on repeat: Ellie Goulding with "Love Me Like You Do." That line, "What are you waiting for?" -- that was Jane all the way!
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJtDXIazrMo&w=560&h=315]
*
We've got the slow dancing down, obviously. Were there any faster songs on the playlist? There sure were! One in particular got put on repeat quite a bit: "Sugar" by Maroon 5. Yum!
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09R8_2nJtjg&w=560&h=315]
*
Okay, one more. :)
Jane's story starts far before her night with V. in Las Vegas -- it starts eight years before, to be exact. The night she took a chance and propositioned her best friend's sexy older brother. That brother, Vincent, turned her down, for reasons she never learns until Vegas, but that doesn't mean the story's over. This song spoke Jane's broken heart to me in ways I might not have gotten otherwise. (Not to mention Gavin DeGraw's voice is di-vine.) "Not Over You."
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDWhfsQHq1o&w=560&h=315]
*
All right, that's today's dance party, but that doesn't mean the dancing has to stop! You can go over to the If Only series page and see a full list of songs for this series, including the upcoming April release of Hank and Sage's book, ONLY FOR THE NIGHT. And don't forget your copy of ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND! You won't regret the two hours it takes to read it, trust me. ;)
I have a release week giveaway going on right now as well! Two readers will win these adorable heart-lock-and-key necklaces from Oddoleather (and yes, those are handmade suede pouches to store your necklace in). I've been drooling over these since they came in the mail, and I can't wait for them to be yours! (Sorry, US only.)
Go on over to the Rafflecopter page and enter the giveaway to win!
Have a great weekend!
~ Ella
Hump Day Healthy Writer: Journaling
The past couple of weeks have been stressful, and the next couple of weeks promise to be more so. See, I'm releasing a book this Friday. I'm also having surgery. Yes, the same day. It was either that or ruin Christmas with my kids, and I would rather miss a release day. I've been scrambling to get everything finished ahead of time, get my ducks in a row, deal with the anxiety of going under the knife, finish my next book's rough draft that is a month overdue
The past couple of weeks have been stressful, and the next couple of weeks promise to be more so. See, I'm releasing a book this Friday. I'm also having surgery. Yes, the same day. It was either that or ruin Christmas with my kids, and I would rather miss a release day. I've been scrambling to get everything finished ahead of time, get my ducks in a row, deal with the anxiety of going under the knife, finish my next book's rough draft that is a month overdue... I know all about STRESS with a capital S (and every other letter, for that matter!). Luckily I've been able to handle it much better than I did last year, when stress just about landed me in the hospital (and not because I needed surgery). I've learned how to deal, and one of the key ways I've dealt with the chaos is through journaling.
I know what you're thinking -- well, mostly. I resisted journaling for a long time. "It just doesn't work for me," I'd say. "I can't remember to journal every day." Or "Journaling is for teenage girls." Or even "I don't have time to write pages about my feelings -- I need to write pages on my next book!" But all the excuses in the world weren't helping me deal with the stress that had taken over my life and the physical effects it was having on my body.
So I gave in.
“Art is born in attention,” Julia Cameron says in The Artist's Way. “The reward for attention is always healing.” What I found in my own life was that the chaos created by my expectations, demands, and limits kept me from paying attention to my creative voice. I had to get rid of all the chaos to find my creative path again -- so I began writing it all down.
Sounds weird, huh? But that's honestly what I did. Nothing fancy. No following the writing rules or even making sense at some points. I just put pen to paper and let whatever come out. Anything and everything that popped into my mind, it went onto the page at the beginning of the day. Cameron calls these "morning pages," but I've found that they help at any time of the day, whenever the chaos overwhelmed me. I even had my daughter journaling at night before bed, when worry would keep her from sleeping. I call it "brain drain," draining out all the emotion and worry and chaos onto the page so I don't have to carry it around with me.
And you know what? Despite all my protesting, it really works. I don't try to solve anything (though I might write down possible solutions as they come to me). I don't try to explain away what I'm feeling. I just put it down on paper. I leave it there, and often it actually stays put. :) Grab a spiral notebook, nothing fancy, and get everything out.
As time goes on, I find myself having to write less. Oh, I still write every day, but not for an hour. Often now my journaling sessions evolve into plotting sessions for my latest project. It's as if the dam has opened up and my creativity now has the ability to flow without the blockage of stress and worry. As the past couple of weeks have devolved into stress, I've journaled a little more, and found relief there. Yes, there is still a lot to do, and yes, I am still going into the hospital, but I'm not carrying the weight of the world around inside my head, trying to solve everything that needs to be solved. I can put it down on paper and leave it there for a little while.
If you're struggling with stress and worry and find it making you sick and stealing your creativity, this is one thing you can explore that just might help. I know it has me. One step at a time, one little positive move forward. Piled one on top of the other, they can be your building blocks to a healthier, more creative life. Just try it.
~ Ella
What I've Been Reading: Dungeon Games
Dungeon Games (Masters & Mercenaries 6.5)Lexi Blake
Obsessed
Derek Brighton has become one of Dallas’s finest detectives through a combination of discipline and obsession. Once he has a target in his sights, nothing can stop him. When he isn’t solving homicides, he applies the same intensity to his playtime at Sanctum, a secretive BDSM club.
Dungeon Games (Masters & Mercenaries 6.5)Lexi Blake
Obsessed
Derek Brighton has become one of Dallas’s finest detectives through a combination of discipline and obsession. Once he has a target in his sights, nothing can stop him. When he isn’t solving homicides, he applies the same intensity to his playtime at Sanctum, a secretive BDSM club. Unfortunately, no amount of beautiful submissives can fill the hole that one woman left in his heart.
Unhinged
Karina Mills has a reputation for being reckless, and her clients appreciate her results. As a private investigator, she pursues her cases with nothing holding her back. In her personal life, Karina yearns for something different. Playing at Sanctum has been a safe way to find peace, but the one Dom who could truly master her heart is out of reach.
Enflamed
On the hunt for a killer, Derek enters a shadowy underworld only to find the woman he aches for is working the same case. Karina is searching for a missing girl and won’t stop until she finds her. To get close to their prime suspect, they need to pose as a couple. But as their operation goes under the covers, unlikely partners become passionate lovers while the killer prepares to strike.
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If you've read any of the Masters and Mercenaries books, you know who Derek is. He's a Dom and police detective with a tough-as-nails exterior. Normally I wouldn't be pointing you toward a book so far into a series because, let's face it, who knows if the six books ahead of this one will be ones you'll enjoy? But this little tasty treat is a perfect introduction into Lexi's M&M world and a great way to decide if you'd like to read more.
I'll admit, I'm not a fan of the 1001 Dark Nights covers. I can't ever figure out which author they belong to because they all look the same, and then I get kinda pissed because I miss an addition to a series I love, which is what happened with this book. But I'm so glad I finally figured it out despite the cover!
Derek is such a gem. As tough as he is, the quirks Lexi adds into his life are interesting. His ex-wife, for instance, is a shark, and the way he thinks about her and interacts with her are funny as hell. He's also a dumbass when it comes to certain things -- yes, you read that right. He has a lot of preconceptions about Karina that put him off on the wrong foot. I'll admit, I kinda enjoyed seeing the big, bad Dom being proven wrong. And when he finally gets it right? Good GOD, he scorches up the pages!
Karina has been described in other books (only peripherally) as "that crazy PI." She's not really crazy. Like many of Lexi's heroines, she's not "put together" and perfect. She's relatable, and her history is heartbreaking. A widow, Karina has held herself back from intimacy because of her past, because she doesn't feel she can ever fully expose herself to someone else. Sharing her secrets with Derek, especially, is impossible, despite the way the two of them sizzle whenever they're in a room together.
I'll let you pick up the book and read all about the way Derek and Karina finally come together, but suffice it to say, they make one helluva couple. You DO NOT have to read any of the other books in this series to understand this one. That's right -- you can waltz right into these pages without a moment of misunderstanding. We get some nice glimpses of the other characters in the series, but only in a peripheral way. I warn you, though...once you start with Masters & Mercenaries, no matter where, you WILL want to read the rest. Trust me!
~ Ella
Hump Day Healthy Writer
I have a secret: for the past year I've worried that I'd lost my mojo. Sometimes I wondered if I wanted to write at all. Every day at the page seemed to be a battle, and I knew deep down it would be easier to give up the fight and just go back to being someone's employee instead of the boss. The responsible one. The creative one. So why didn't I? Because I couldn't.
I have a secret: for the past year I've worried that I'd lost my mojo. Sometimes I wondered if I wanted to write at all. Every day at the page seemed to be a battle, and I knew deep down it would be easier to give up the fight and just go back to being someone's employee instead of the boss. The responsible one. The creative one. So why didn't I? Because I couldn't.
First, I knew without a doubt that writing is what I'm meant to do. I've always known it. I can't forget about it even if I don't actually do it. So there's that.
Second, I knew that the loss of my creativity -- and that's exactly what it was -- had nothing to do with whether or not I was a writer in my heart. Really it was all about chemistry. My body chemistry. My health. There were a lot of health issues, old and many many new, that were pouring down on my head. They were the thieves stealing my mojo. I just couldn't figure out how to steal it back.
Some days I still don't know. But I'm slowly beginning to understand, to find answers for myself and find others who know answers. And I want to share those answers with you.
Readers or writers, we all have minds, and sometimes those minds don't work like they're supposed to. Mine doesn't, not anymore. I'll get into why in later HDHW posts, but suffice it to say my mind, my moods, my ability to write and sometimes even think has been impacted in a way I never expected -- and was totally clueless how to deal with. I've been on a long journey, and I've learned a little here and there along the way. I'm not a medical professional. I'm not a health guru. I'm just an ordinary woman who had to find answers when no one else seemed to have them. I'm a writer who watched her mind slowly dying and knew she had to do something. If you've ever felt the same, or if you've felt the effects of isolation, constant computer use, and the other tolls of this job (and many others in our tech-heavy world), then this blog series is for you.
And hopefully me, because I want to learn from you too.
Check back the first Wednesday of every month for a new Hump Day Healthy Writer, and share your experiences and what works for you. You never know who can be helped by the small piece of wisdom you possess.
~ Ella
Teaser Tuesday: Hank & Sage
Guess what! Hank & Sage's book finally has a title! In April 2016, their book will be released as...ONLY FOR THE NIGHT! Keep checking back for excerpts from their book and the first book in this series, Only for the Weekend, available December 4th. I can't wait!
Guess what! Hank & Sage's book finally has a title! In April 2016, their book will be released as...ONLY FOR THE NIGHT! Keep checking back for excerpts from their book and the first book in this series, Only for the Weekend, available December 4th. I can't wait!
~ Ella
Teaser Tuesday: Trust Me
Available Now At:
And in print at Createspace, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.
Available Now At:
And in print at Createspace, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.
Teaser Tuesday - Jane
Want a little taste of my heroine, Jane, from Only for the Weekend? She's quirky, sweet, and oh so ready for a change.
Want a little taste of my heroine, Jane, from Only for the Weekend? She's quirky, sweet, and oh so ready for a change.
*
God, it was hot.
The desert wind blasted Jane’s hair back from her face as she walked out of the sliding doors of the Las Vegas airport. Heat soaked through the base of her heels to sear her toes, and she imagined the sudden sweat popping out on her forehead looked nothing like the “glistening” most women claimed they did in the heat. No, she was definitely sweating. And hot. Really hot.
But at least her dress was cool.
The Marilyn Monroe lookalike was intended to give her confidence, and it certainly did that. The halter top left her shoulders bare, the nipped-in waist made her feel incredibly sexy, and the filmy skirt flitted teasingly in the air, reminding her of the scene in The Seven Year Itch where Marilyn stopped over the subway grate. Vegas didn’t have subway grates, but at least if the skirt hit the air in similar fashion, her new lacy underwear wouldn’t leave her embarrassed—much. Since she wasn’t in the habit of showing strangers her underwear, some embarrassment was inevitable, but not the ratty-panties kind.
You’re about to show a guy a lot more than your panties, Jane. Remember that.
The sudden flush in her cheeks had nothing to do with the air temperature. She wasn’t letting it stop her, though. She planned to do a lot in Las Vegas that would have her blushing; she might as well get used to it now.
*
Jane and Vincent's story will release on December 4th, but you can preorder now for only 99 cents. I can't wait for you to dig in and really get to know them both. :)
And don't forget to sign up for my newsletter. It's the only way to join my Advance Review Team and get a chance to read and review my books before they release!
~ Ella
Only for the Weekend UPDATE!
We have a cover -- and it's gorgeous! What do you think?
I've also set up preorders. You can go ahead and order your copy of Only for the Weekend on Amazon right now for 99 cents. I'll have the book up on other retailers within the next couple of weeks, and will add the links to the Bookshelf page as they go live. The links will also be in my monthly newsletter.
So when will your copy arrive on your e-reader? DECEMBER 4TH! As I announced in my newsletter, I've had some health issues this summer that pushed my schedule off, and I wanted V. and Jane's story to come out a little closer to the other book in this mini-series, Hank and Sage's story (out the first week of April, 2016). Since the books go together, I figured a little delay now was better than a bigger delay between them. But this novella is definitely hot enough to wait for! I think you'll love Vincent and Jane--their chemistry is explosive. I had to take a few breathers between scenes, let me tell ya.
Oh, you want to see? Hmm...Okay, I guess I can share. ;) How about an excerpt?
* * *
Straightening her shoulders, his sister met his gaze. "I got a call from Jane last week."
Vincent's gut tightened. "Jane?"
"Yes, Jane," she said impatiently. "My best friend, Jane? You are so hopeless."
"I hope not, considering you brought me here to do you a favor. I know which Jane you're talking about." As if he could ever forget. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, hoping to hide exactly how much he remembered from his too-observant sis. "Get on with it."
"She's been...unhappy with her current relationship for a while. Actually, she hasn't been happy with her last couple of boyfriends, but I didn't really understand why until she called to tell me she and Lane had broken up." Kennedy's mouth twisted into something not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "We got to talking about what, specifically, was the problem--"
V. put his hand up to ward off the rest. Jane's relationships were the last thing he wanted to discuss. The history between him and Jane--history his sister knew absolutely nothing about, he was pretty sure--might be water under the bridge, but that didn't mean he wanted to think about her with anyone else.
Kennedy wouldn't be denied, though. "No, Vinny, this is important. See, we were talking, and I started to realize that some of their...compatibility issues are because Jane is...uh...submissive."
Fuck. Now he was starting to get the picture. His fingers started a steady beat on his thigh as he struggled to bring his racing thoughts under control. "And you want me to talk to her about BDSM."
There weren't many secrets between him and his sister. When she'd read 50 Shades and started questioning things, he'd openly discussed his natural need to dominate and what that might look like in a hypothetical relationship. Though ultimately not drawn to the D/s dynamic herself, Kennedy was well-educated enough to recognize the tendency in her best friend.
"Not exactly."
"Then what exactly?" He couldn't keep a bit of bite out of his words.
Kennedy took a deep breath as if steeling herself against something. Not a good sign. His gut tightened again.
"Jane actually asked about hiring an...escort that could dominate her." V. thought the top of his head might just fly off. "She didn't. You didn't," he growled.
"No, idiot," she insisted, her words as loud as his were low, "I didn't." She stared into his eyes, but she wasn't really seeing him, he could tell. "She wants to learn but doesn't know anyone in the lifestyle. She didn't know what to look for if she went to a club, and didn't feel safe with a stranger."
V. wasn't quite ready to give an inch. The thought of Jane with a stranger--okay, with anyone, but especially a stranger--made him feel like his blood was boiling in his veins. "She wouldn't know an escort either."
"But I would." Kennedy shrugged. "That was it. She thought, this being Vegas, that I might've met someone in the lifestyle that she could trust. A personal recommendation, so to speak."
"You told her no, obviously."
This time her stare connected, but she didn't speak. She just waited, her determination ticking like a clock between them, until the truth finally smacked him between the eyes.
"You're hiring me?"
"She's my best friend, Vinny. I'm not gonna hand her over to have sex with just anybody!"
"And you're not handing her over to have sex with me either." Frustration drove him to his feet to pace across the room until the floor-to-ceiling windows stopped him. If only Kennedy knew. Jane would probably prefer to castrate him, even now, ten years later. She certainly wouldn't want to be vulnerable to him, not the way a sub was vulnerable with their Dom. Even considering it was an enormous mistake. He scrambled for anything that might deter her.
"Jane's just a kid." Ten years his junior, like Kennedy was.
"She's not a kid. She's my age, and I have sex all the time."
He shot his sister a withering look. "Now stop that shit right now."
Kennedy's eyebrow cocked up. "The sex?"
"Telling me about it." He shuddered. "It may or may not happen, but I do not need to know."
Kennedy's smirk was salt in the wound. "My brother the perv is freaked out by his baby sister's vanilla sex life."
"Yes. Very."
It took a moment, but eventually he was able to join a smirk with Kennedy's laughter. His sister's amusement eased some of the tension stringing his body tight, enough that he could return to the couch. Kennedy patted his leg when he sat beside her.
"She's always had a bit of a crush on you, ya know."
He kept his sigh inside. Damn right, he knew. What Kennedy and especially Jane didn't know was that the feeling had always been mutual. Which spelled certain disaster if he gave in to what his sister wanted.
He didn't say it aloud; instead he deflected. "Jane isn't a one-night-stand kind of girl." He knew that much--all too well.
"She's not looking for forever, just a quickie intro to BDSM." She tilted her head, seeming to consider her words. An impish grin tugged at her lips. "Well, not a quickie, really, but you get the idea."
His frown probably made him seem like a stuffy old geezer, but what the hell... "Yeah, I get it." All too well. Perversely, the assumption that he was available to be used for the night bothered him. "Thanks, Sis. I'm good enough to stud out but not good enough for more than one night?"
He mentally kicked his own ass. Why was he even arguing about this? He didn't want more than one night. He'd always said so, a fact Kennedy quickly reminded him of.
"'Commitment takes time,'" she quoted.
He'd said those three words so many times, and never regretted them. His band had been all the commitment he had room for besides Kennedy. It had always been true, but now Weekend Washout was on hiatus for who knew how long--at least until Chad came back from gallivanting around Europe with his latest lover. V. and Hank were exploring a new solo project, true, but even then, he had way too much time on his hands.
But not time for a commitment, V. You're not commitment material. If you were, you'd have taken Jane up on her offer ten years ago, whether she was sixteen or not.
No... Okay, maybe. He really didn't know. He'd like to think he was a better man than to take advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl's infatuation, but this was Jane they were talking about. And whether it was ten years ago or now, the thought of having her for far longer than a single night reverberated in his chest with more force than the echo of his bass drum.
"Vinny." Kennedy closed her eyes, probably praying for patience. When she opened them again, determination shone through. "Jane is a sweet person who's just trying to find her way through this." She sat forward. "You're my brother. I trust you, and most of all, I trust you with her. Please, just... Please help her."
V. thought about her words for a long moment, thought about his first faltering forays into a nonvanilla sex life, how much easier it would've been if he'd had a guiding hand. He considered the pleading in Kennedy's eyes, and the fact that she might hand him his balls if he said no. And finally, he let himself picture Jane, the pretty sixteen-year-old he'd rejected and the quietly beautiful woman he'd seen in Kennedy's frequent pictures. Could he really let Jane make herself vulnerable that way with anyone else? Could he turn his back knowing she wouldn't be safe? Because she would continue to explore; that much he knew. He wouldn't have been able to stop his own search, safety or not. Jane needed to find her answers, but no way in hell could he allow her to do it alone.
His sigh was pure capitulation. Kennedy heard it and smiled.
"All right," he told her, "I'll do it--but on one condition." He thought about that a moment. "Two, actually."
Kennedy's triumph dimmed a bit. "Okay."
"Anonymity. I don't want her knowing who I am. No, Kenn," he said firmly before she could interrupt. "This could affect your friendship later. She could feel awkward, avoiding you if she thinks I'll be there." He normally had no issue with having sex with a woman he'd just met, if they both knew the score, but not Kennedy's best friend. It wasn't the only reason for the caveat, but it was a good one. The other... Well, Jane would never knowingly let him near her, much less trust him if she knew he was the one with her, not after what had happened between them. "Anonymity is a must."
Emotion warred in Kennedy's eyes, but she finally gave in. "You're the right person for this job," she told him, conviction shining in her eyes. "I guess what she doesn't know won't hurt her. She'd never see any other guy I picked again, right?"
"Right." He said the word she wanted to hear even though he didn't think it was necessarily true. If they hit it off, Jane would probably see another Dom again. Not him, though. She wouldn't see him the first time if she knew.
Kennedy reluctantly nodded. "And?"
He squared his shoulders. "And no sex."
"But--"
V. shook his head. "I can teach her what she needs to know without it. Hell, some subs get more of a release from the submission than they do an orgasm." For him D/s was all about the sex, but that wasn't the case across the board. "Jane is vulnerable, and I won't take advantage of that. I can't."
"So...you won't touch her at all?"
"Oh, I'll touch her." A lot, probably. More than was good for his sanity. "But no full-on sex."
Kennedy agreed, but the uncertainty wrinkling the corners of her eyes said what she wouldn't say aloud. No sex meant Jane's fantasy might go unfulfilled. But he'd rather give her something and leave them both unscarred than indulge himself in something he'd dreamed about for longer than had been appropriate and hurt Jane in the process. If Kennedy knew the whole story, she wouldn't have any doubts. All V. had doubts about was his ability not to go too far. This was Jane, after all. The woman he'd fantasized about dominating since she was sixteen years old.
Heaven help him.
* * *
Don't forget, you can go ahead and reserve your copy of Only for the Weekend now on Amazon. And don't worry--I'll remind you when it's almost here. :)
*
Jane Jacobs is ready for a change. She’s determined that a history of lackluster relationships and even more lackluster pleasure will end this weekend, when she meets the Dom her best friend has set her up with. Exploring dominance and submission with her blind “date” could answer all her questions—and help her forget the one man she wants to master her.
With his band on hiatus, Vincent O’Connell grabs the chance to visit his sister in Vegas, but she wants a favor more than a family reunion. V.’s not above indulging himself with a willing sub, but when he realizes the sub is his sister’s best friend, Jane, all his instincts scream at him to back out—and fast.
V knows Jane; she’s young, pretty, sweet. Definitely sub material—for someone else. But one look at her on her knees and all the reasons to avoid her disappear. She needs a Dom to guide her, and he needs to indulge himself with just a taste. After all, it's only for the weekend.
Am Writing!
Y'all know I've been working on Hank (from Naughty Little Christmas) and Sage's book. I'm still working on it and hope to have it out in November. But in the meantime, a wee little novella crept up on me featuring Hank's best friend, Vincent. And that book will be ready before Hank's. Which means... You guessed it -- a new book out in early October! Title and blurb got some work this past weekend, and now it's ready to share with you. Let me introduce...Vincent and Jane.
Only for the Weekend (If Only Book 1)
A Vegas weekend. A temporary submissive. Can he control both her and his heart?
Jane Jacobs is ready for a change. She’s determined that a history of lackluster relationships and even more lackluster pleasure will end this weekend, when she meets the Dom her best friend has set her up with. Exploring dominance and submission with her blind “date” could answer all her questions—and help her forget the one man she wants to master her.
With his band on hiatus, Vincent O’Connell grabs the chance to visit his sister in Vegas, but she wants a favor more than a family reunion. V’s not above indulging himself with a willing sub, but when he realizes the sub is his sister’s best friend, Jane, all his instincts scream at him to back out—and fast.
V knows Jane; she’s young, pretty, sweet. Definitely sub material—for someone else. But one look at her on her knees and all the reasons to avoid her disappear. She needs a Dom to guide her, and he needs to indulge himself with just a taste. After all, it's only for the weekend.
*
I'll share more news as it becomes available. I can't wait to share this sexy Dom and his sweet sub with my readers!
~ Ella
What I've Been Reading: Cell by Stephen King
I finally got in a little reading last weekend! Reading is one of the things that falls off my list when I struggle to find time for everything, but I took a Saturday for myself and read Stephen King's Cell from cover to cover. What did I think? Well, as a romance author, I have to say my reactions were mixed.
Artist Clayton Riddell had been in Boston negotiating a successful deal to sell his comic book project. His joy at finally hitting it big is shattered by an event called The Pulse which causes all those who were using their cell phones at the time of The Pulse to become zombies attacking and killing anyone in their way. Fortunately for Clay, he does not own a cell phone. In the panic to get out of Boston and find his way home to his wife and son in Maine, he is joined by Tom McCourt, a man he meets in the meleé immediately following The Pulse and a young girl, Alice, who they rescue from being killed by one of the “crazies.” The story follows their terrifying journey, avoiding capture—and worse—by the “crazies” who are beginning to “flock” and are led by one they call Raggedy Man as they attempt to reach Maine and a place called Kashwak which they hope will be their salvation.
This is the first Stephen King novel I've read. It's been something on my to-do list for a long while, but other than reading On Writing, I haven't delved into his writing. I've seen almost every movie version, though. :) And since I began reading the books of Jonathan Maberry (and enjoying them immensely) -- and since it was a book on hand (my daughter had a copy) -- I decided this was a good start.
The story itself, I really did love. It was exceptionally well plotted, the characterization was spot on, and the ability to make even the smallest, most repetitious actions interesting was phenomenal. King has long been lauded as a master author, but I did not realize quite how seamlessly that skill played out on the page. I didn't necessarily care about the characters immediately, but I wanted to understand what was happening to them. They were interesting, and as time went on, I found myself rooting for them, living through their eyes, feeling what they felt despite the sparsity of language.
And that was where I wavered.
I've heard it said that King abhors adjectives and adverbs. I did find them used only rarely. King's style is bare, almost more of a report than a retelling, though what he is reporting are thoughts and feelings. Descriptions aren't flowery or overstated, but the details King chooses to focus on bring the entire scene to life. They're just right. It's very interesting -- and very different than what I was used to. The romance genre doesn't work that way, and I think a romance novel written in this style would never have worked. And yet, with the subject and the genre of Cell, King's style enhanced the other elements of the story instead of taking away from them. He let us focus in on what was important, not everything around us in the story.
Oh, one caveat: Cell ends on a cliffhanger (and since there's no book two, you never find out what ultimately happens with Riddell and his son, though the state of the world itself is pretty clear at the end). I had a heads-up that this was the case before I read the story, so I was prepared for it. Others who weren't warned told me they wanted to throw the book across the room. :) Be warned ahead of time!
So, did I enjoy it? I did. Not in the way I'd expected, but I did. I will definitely try another, maybe The Stand, since they are remaking the movie version. Next, though, will probably be Lisey's Story (since I already own a copy, and since it's about a writer). But for next month, I'll be returning to romance, I think. I have to switch it up, doncha know!
~ Ella
Starting Anew
Starting a new book isn't easy for me. I see a lot of authors post about writing "The End," and then the next day's post is all about the book they just dived right into overnight. Believe me, I wish I was like that, but I'm soooo not! I'm currently working my way into Hank and Sage's book, and not only do I not have a title, but I don't have much actual "book." The scenes read more like sketches than anything else. There's no pizzazz, no wonder, no spark. It's like a story "bud" instead of a story ready to flower.
Lord help me.
But really, this is how every book is for me. I am a plotter, so I almost always have an idea of where the book itself is going, but also where the next few scenes are going in detail. Still, it takes me a while to find the "spark" that ignites both my interest and the characters' personalities. And with every book I worry I won't discover that spark. Where is it? When will I happen upon it? What if it never appears and this book sucks wet stinky socks?
...
You get the picture. I've never not found the spark, but it weighs heavy on my mind until I do. In the meantime, I pick up tiny bits of my characters' lives and personalities, bringing them slowly to life. Hank, for instance, has a dog. I didn't know that until this morning. Of course, neither Hank nor said dog care in the least that I have no dogs and know almost nothing about actually owning a dog. Hank said he had a dog, and so he has a dog. Oy. Now to figure out the dog's personality. :)
Thankfully I have plenty of time to meddle in other story ideas while this one fleshes out. Ian and Cassie's book, for instance, which I'm hoping to put out as a Christmas novella. And another small surprise novella that may or may not come out this year. Just depends on if I have time to figure out those characters along with my two currently ornery couples. We'll see. So many love stories, so little time!
Have a great week!
~ Ella
FUN New Contest!
I've got a contest going this week to guess my next book hero! Before I reveal the details, I thought it might be exciting to have my readers guess -- and possibly win a little treat ($15 Amazon Gift Card). :) Check out the hints on the photo below, then go to the Rafflecopter giveaway to enter your best guess (no points off for wrong names either!). The winner will be revealed (as well as the hero) in my newsletter this weekend and here on the blog. (Contest ends Saturday, 7/18.)
To enter, go to the Rafflecopter giveaway page and enter your best guess! And if you want to learn more about this sexy hero, sign up for my newsletter before this weekend.
Have a great week!
~ Ella
The Rest of the Summer...
This summer has been filled with getting TAKE ME complete, getting ready for release, getting my head on straight as I tried to keep everything together and in order... You get the picture. :) Now I find myself in the enviable position of deciding where to go next. My plan all along has been to write Ian and Cassie (from Secrets To Hide), but over the weekend spent at the beach with family, that idea got derailed. By this guy:
Who is he? Well, I'm not quite ready to say yet. When a book first comes to me, I need it to marinate, to let all the flavors develop and see exactly where I want to go first before I talk about it. But I couldn't help teasing you! I do know I've never written a book like this before. I will say that you've met that gorgeous hunk before -- this book will be a spin-off of the Secrets To Hide series. But more than that, I'm not going to reveal, not yet. ;)
Ian and Cassie are still in the works (and still untitled, as you can tell!), but I felt they needed more time to gel in my mind. Their story will get written, never fear. I've been so consumed with the Southern Nights series for so long, almost a year, that I've had a hard time grasping anything else -- which is why the big guy up there took me so much by surprise! You're gonna love him; I just know it.
Now I'm off to the day job and then more work on H-- Oh, wait, not supposed to say that yet... :p
~ Ella
TAKE Me Is Live!
The day is finally here -- TAKE ME is live! There were days I had my doubts. :) Working with two heroes is never easy, but Peyton wrangled them well, and in the end Gabe and Sam were panty-meltingly awesome. I'm hoping you enjoy the three of them together as much as I do.
Take Me is available at the "Reader Appreciation" price of $1.99 until July 5th! You can get your copy at:
A nightmare coming to an end…
Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.
A past catching up to them…
Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.
Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.
A future threatened…
When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?
To celebrate release say, I'm giving away a $20 Amazon Gift Card and a complete print set of the Southern Nights series! You can enter to win HERE.
I can't thank my loyal readers enough for making this possible. Each book starts with a kernel of an idea, but it is the love and encouragement of readers that helps me bring that kernel to fruition. I appreciate you all!
And now...let's celebrate!
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GwjfUFyY6M&w=420&h=315]
~ Ella (*dancing around the living room!*)
TWO Days & Counting...
Almost here! Only two more days to wait. In the meantime, want to read the first chapter of TAKE ME? Keep reading to see how it all begins...
* * *
Peyton Harrison’s battered old Ford pulled to a rickety stop at the curb across from the Claywater Elementary School. Buses lumbered through the circular drive out front, discharging students of all sizes. Bigger kids hurried inside, while the younger ones followed a teacher’s direction into the fenced playground. Expending energy and first-day jitters before the day began, probably. If only Peyton’s nerves could so easily be dispersed.
Her heart beat a booming drumroll of desperation in her throat, the sound loud in the stifling silence of her truck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was watch the schoolyard across the street with greedy eyes. The child she was searching for was impossible to miss. Right in the center of the play area, a small, sturdy figure hurried up to the monkey bars and began his climb to the top. Even at six years old, he was strong, pulling himself higher and higher, outpacing his classmates until he threw one tan leg over the top rung, clamped down tight, and stopped to assess his playground domain.
King of the hill. Lord of all he surveyed. Just like his father.
The thought added to the blaze of agony threatening to drown her as it mixed with the ravenous ache of yearning clenching her belly. Just a few moments of inattention by the teachers chatting together on the park bench, some wire cutters for snipping the chain-link fence, something to keep him quiet as she ran for the safety of her truck— She pictured every step in her mind, saw how easily it could be carried out, how quickly he could become hers.
Hers.
The word throbbed in her oxygen-deprived brain, right at the forefront, taunting her. So simple, just four little letters. And yet the hundred yards dividing them screamed exactly how impossible that word was. Almost as impossible as it had been for the past six years.
He belongs to someone else; you know that. At least for now.
The ache in her fingers where they clenched the steering wheel centered her, pulling her back into reality, into now. She dragged in a gulp of hot Texas air and forced her focus back on the playground, on the child’s clear blue eyes and their steely determination. His soft, full lips displayed the last tiny shreds of remaining toddlerhood. The clothes he’d worn for the first day of school—a short-sleeved, white button-down shirt that looked too adult for such a young child, tan cargo shorts with every pocket neatly fastened, pristine white ankle socks and sneakers—now bore streaks of red clay and wrinkles, the starched collar of the shirt wilting under the onslaught of August heat and childish perspiration. What she wouldn’t give to bury her nose in the sweaty curve of his neck and inhale the wild, little-boy scent of him.
So serious. Even at such a young age, he was deep-down-to-the-bone serious. More little man than little boy. She could see it in his eyes.
Then he smiled.
It hit her like a punch to the gut, that smile. His daddy’s smile. The thought burned like tears behind her eyes, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop eating up every discernible detail she possibly could. His solemn face lit up with that smile, his beautiful eyes bright under the shaggy fringe of thick blondish-red hair across his forehead. That hair was ruffled by deep furrows, as if he ran his fingers through it frequently. The white of his baby teeth was a stark contrast to the depth of his tan, possibly from playing outside all summer. The mottling of bruises on his knees and down his shins attested to that. At least she hoped that’s where they came from. Her heart ached to know for sure. She ran through scenario after scenario in a feverish search for the one that would enable her to bring him home, to finally have him in her arms agai—
Knock, knock, knock.
The drumroll in her chest became crashing thunder. A curse made it to her lips and froze there, held back by the wall of chest that blocked her sight of the playground. The material stretching across that wide expanse of solid muscle was dark blue, crisp and clean, with the title “Claywater Police Department” clearly emblazoned on the patch to one side.
A cop, right outside her window. Tall and broad and intimidating. Her breath stuttered across suddenly dry lips.
“Ma’am?” The cop rapped the back of his knuckles against the glass again. “Roll down your window please.”
The man’s voice tickled something in the back of her fear-frozen mind, something that drew her gaze against her will. Up the precisely buttoned shirtfront. Past the small triangle of skin at his collar, the neatly trimmed red-gold stubble. Lips. Nose. Eyes.
Blue eyes. Familiar blue eyes.
Peyton stared, certain she was caught up in some crazy nightmare. The devil taunting her. Because she knew those eyes intimately. Knew this man—except he wasn’t a cop. Or at least, he hadn’t been when she knew him.
“Ma’am?”
That deep, commanding tone again. It washed over her like molasses, trapping her in memories buried for so long. With hands shaking and tongue tied, Peyton slowly rolled down the window.
“Gabe?” she choked out. Please don’t let this be happening. Despite the all too real rush of air brushing her face, she prayed someone, somewhere, would hear her prayer and make it true.
One of Gabe’s hands rested casually against the side of her truck. A relaxed pose belied by his laser-sharp gaze and the fingers toying with the catch on his holster. She forced her eyes away from the gun and back to his. A flinch shook her as their eyes met.
“License and registration, please, ma’am.”
“Gabriel?” It was all she could get out. She glanced at the name tag, prominently displayed on the left side of his solid chest. Williams. “God, I can’t believe it’s you.” She didn’t want to believe it, not now, when secrecy was paramount. When her heart was already torn to pieces.
He shouldn’t look the same, not after all these years. But he did. He shouldn’t be here in Claywater, but he was. Standing outside her window. His big body was tense, ready for anything—he looked every inch the wolf he was. Cornflower-blue irises gleamed with impatience in his ruggedly handsome face. Too handsome, she’d always said. And empty. Not a hint of recognition.
Gabe didn’t shift, didn’t back down, just narrowed his eyes. “Ma’am, your license and registration. Now.”
The comply-or-face-the-consequences tone got through when nothing else could. She’d never forget that tone, no matter how many years it had been—every cop and prison guard used it daily. Her hand was halfway to the glove box before she even realized it. Registration in hand, she retrieved her license from her purse, nerves jittering in her stomach like a thousand butterflies. In a surreal haze she passed her paperwork through the window. The breath in her lungs stuttered as she watched his strong, calloused hand come closer, closer—the hand that had introduced her to the joys of sexual pleasure, the fingers that had ensured her readiness before he took her virginity. She waited for a touch she’d both longed for and cursed for seven excruciating years. And when that touch came, when his fingers brushed the backs of hers as he grasped the papers and pulled them away, she looked into his eyes once more, searching, fearing.
And saw absolutely nothing. Not recognition. Not curiosity. Disdain. Nothing. “And you are?” he asked.
She stared, certain he had to be kidding. “Peyton.” He waited. “Harrison?”
It came out a question, as if she didn’t know her own name. He didn’t, apparently. “Is there a reason you stopped here, Ms. Harrison?”
Relief coursed through her confusion. A question she was actually prepared for. “I’m lost.”
And she dared anyone to prove otherwise. A glance over her shoulder would plainly show a map of Claywater and a notebook detailing properties in the area. She was, after all, looking for a site for her new restaurant. Had already chosen one, in fact, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Oh? New in town?”
His tone wasn’t interested, and his gaze didn’t drop to her license, the one that had the same date as her move into her bland new apartment over by the highway. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
Her silence drew only one reaction: “How long?”
“Not long.”
He continued to watch her, unsmiling. His eyes hid everything he felt—or didn’t. And then he turned without a word and walked back to his patrol car, her license and registration in hand.
Even the walk was the same. A harsh laugh escaped as she watched him in the rearview mirror. The hair was longer, spiky instead of the buzz cut he’d worn when she knew him, the face harder and yes, now that she thought about it, older, but there was no doubt this was Gabe. Her Gabe. The Gabe that had ruined her life. She’d imagined this moment since the tender age of seventeen, imagined what she would do if she ever came face-to-face with him again. She’d never considered that he wouldn’t even remember the moment that changed her forever. But his blank stare had told her the truth. No memories of hot, sweaty nights and drenching desire lurked there. Not even a hint of recognition for someone he’d seen daily for weeks, no matter how long ago.
Just a quick, easy lay, that was her. Forgettable. Replaceable. Guess she didn’t have to wonder anymore. What she did have to wonder was how the hell her first lover and her son had ended up in the same rural Texas town. Had Gabe been involved all along?
But no, he’d definitely recognize her then. If he didn’t remember her, he didn’t know about Micah. And she was determined to keep it that way.
Gabe returned with the same unhurried pace as before, tapping her license against his thigh. When he came to stand outside her door, dark sunglasses hid his eyes. She felt the loss even though she shouldn’t, a fact that sent anger pounding through her heart. She breathed it away. She couldn’t risk slipping up and doing anything that would endanger her plans. For her sake—and her son’s—she had to stay under the radar. Assaulting an officer would make her a big ol’ unignorable blip. No clawing his eyes out, then.
Squaring her shoulders, Peyton ignored the strain of her nerves as she focused on the tap, tap, tap of the edge of her license against hard muscle. She could outwait him. She just wished she could figure out what she was waiting for.
“And where did you say you moved here from?”
She almost—almost—rolled her eyes. The raised eyebrow, she couldn’t stop. “Memphis.”
He nodded, ignoring the brow. “Your apartment is across town, Ms. Harrison. What address are you looking for?”
Do you call all your ex-lover’s by their last name? “I’m not looking for an address; I’m familiarizing myself with the town. If I plan to open a business here—and I do—then it’s in my best interest to get to know the area.” She was proud of how smoothly the words came out, ringing with pleasant—and quite false—emotion. “It’s a beautiful, friendly town.”
Okay, that hadn’t been as neutral as she would like. But once again he didn’t respond to any perceived insult. “Yes, it is. We’re small but growing, and we keep an eye on each other. You can see why we would be uncomfortable with strangers parked outside our schoolyards, correct?”
Fear mixed with her anger, making her nauseous. He’s not reading your mind, Pey. Get over it. She dared a glance at the playground as if just noticing it. “Of course, Officer Williams,” she said, pushing confidence into her voice. She kept her eyes wide open and innocent. A whisper of copper traced across her tongue as she bit down, holding back any further words.
Tap, tap, tap. “What kind of business are you planning?”
“A restaurant.”
“In Claywater?” He said it like she wasn’t too bright.
“Of course. This is a beautiful area—and growing, as you mentioned. It’s perfect.” She forced a smile, small but sweet. “You should come by sometime once I find the right location. Hoolihan’s. Coffee on the house.” She watched closely but didn’t catch even a glimmer of recognition. Coffee had always been on the house for Gabe when he visited Mike and Shelly’s place in Memphis. He’d always bragged about her coffee being the best in the world. Now even the name of the restaurant didn’t jog his memory.
“I’ll do that, ma’am.” He tipped his hat before handing back her license and registration. “You have a good day now.”
Right, I’ll just do that. Swallowing tightly, she dragged the words from an uncooperative throat. “You too.”
Gabe walked back to the patrol car parked behind her, his head swiveling as if watching for threats. It wasn’t until he got in and closed the door that she was able to release her breath and allow oxygen into her anxious brain. Movement across the street drew her eye. The kids on the playground were lining up, heading in to begin their day of learning and growing. She had things to do too, but she couldn’t resist one last, long look at her little boy. The desire to throw caution to the wind, to snatch him up and take him home despite the teachers, other children, and even cops in the vicinity who would surely stop her, almost overwhelmed her. Who knew—maybe Gabe would understand if he realized who that little boy was. Or, considering the way he’d left her in Memphis, alone and pregnant, maybe not. But watching that amazing little face, she knew it was too soon to take him, no matter how much the knowledge broke her already damaged heart. She couldn’t risk rocking the boat without more information. She had no idea if he was in a home with people who loved him, who cared what happened to him—who might come after him if he disappeared. Taking him now could risk him hating her forever.
No. No matter how the need for him clawed at her gut and made each day unbearable, she couldn’t risk scaring him, alienating him. Hurting him.
Because he was her son. Their son. And she’d protect him with her life, even from herself.
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Check in Monday for release day fun and an awesome giveaway. And don't forget the preorder price of $1.99 at:
A nightmare coming to an end…
Peyton Harrison came to Claywater to bring her kidnapped son home. The last thing she expects is to run into Gabe Harrison, the man who abandoned her before her son was born. Her body might want to take up where they left off, but her heart remembers Gabe’s betrayal all too well—and everything she’d risk for momentary pleasure.
A past catching up to them…
Gabe always knew he’d share the love of his life with his twin brother, Sam, except he’d found that love far too young. He did the honorable thing and walked away, but now an adult Peyton is in his hometown and keeping secrets behind her world-weary eyes.
Sam is knee-deep in a drug investigation threatening the town he loves. Peyton’s arrival is a distraction he doesn’t need; still, he can’t deny her pull. He and Gabe have always stood together, but now the one woman they both want may be the one thing that divides them.
A future threatened…
When violence shatters their world, the past and present intertwine in ways none of them expected. Anticipating their enemy’s next move is the only way to keep their son safe, but what about their hearts?
THREE Days & Counting!
TAKE ME will be here Monday! Grab it on preorder or no Monday when it releases for only $1.99 at your favorite retailer:
And check back Monday to enter my release day giveaway!
Naughty Hotties Memorial Weekend Blog Hop!
Happy holiday weekend! If you're visiting, you're probably traveling along the Nice Girls Writing Naughty blog hop, right? Well, I definitely have a hunk to share with you, my hero from TRUST ME, Jack.
Jack is as alpha as they come, but his woman, Maddie, is more than his match. At the end of TRUST ME, they've only known each other a few weeks, but Jack is certain they're meant to be together.
So what does he do? At a weekend bonfire, he waits until their guests say good night, then convinces Maddie to agree to whatever he asks. ;)
I've included the scene below for your Memorial Weekend enjoyment. Comment on this blog (and the others in the blog hop) for a chance at the grand prize of a $50 Amazon gift card.
And I'll also choose one lucky commenter to receive their very own copy of TRUST ME so you can read the rest of Jack and Maddie's gripping story. Don't miss out! Be sure and comment.
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She was beautiful in the moonlight, the fire’s faint glow flickering over her skin. Jack couldn’t breathe, looking at her. Knowing she belonged to him. Knowing she’d chosen to stay instead of running, to trust him when everything in her world had taught her that trust meant pain. He reached out, tugging the hem of her tee up to allow his lips access to the smooth skin of her stomach.
“What is that for?” she asked.
“What do you think?” He nipped her in a particularly ticklish spot, then ran kisses over the place where Reed’s bullet had left such a horrible bruise. She’d healed, but he’d never forget it. He never wanted to see her in pain again. He wanted to love her, pleasure her. Right now.
But there was something else he had to do first.
For once words escaped him. He dug in his pants pocket, gripping the jewelers’ box tight before pulling it out for Maddie to see, only she wasn’t looking at him, so he placed the box carefully on her breastbone, right between her perfect mounds. Then he went back to kissing her.
“What’s this?”
He couldn’t answer; he was too afraid his voice would crack.
Maddie stared at him for a long moment. When he still didn’t speak, she sat up, the velvet-covered square in her hand. He held his breath when she opened the lid.
“Oh Jack.”
He sat up too.
Inside, nestled on a satiny white pillow, lay a narrow gold ring. Chocolate diamonds nestled in clusters along the band, formed into small rosettes that sparkled in the moonlight. His throat got tight as the same chocolate sparkles stared up at him from her eyes.
“I know it’s too soon to get engaged, but I wanted—”
But Maddie was already shaking her head. “You’re always worried about too soon, you jackass. Who cares about too soon? Worry about what you want instead.” She dug the ring from the box and slid it onto her left ring finger. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” And his ring on her finger… His breath got choppy. “Strip for me,” he said. Without waiting for an answer, he unzipped his jeans, the relief bringing a sigh to his lips. He pushed the stiff material down and lay back to watch as Maddie removed her clothes one piece at a time. The little tease was making him wait. Only when he circled his stiff erection and pumped roughly did she hurry up.
“Did you need something?” she asked teasingly.
He growled as she got to her knees, her breasts bobbing in the moonlight. “You on my dick.”
“Aren’t you charming.”
“Always.” He gripped her by the waist and tugged her atop him. Maddie spread her legs, and hot liquid settled against his needy shaft. They groaned together.
Jack swore his voice went so rough it scratched his vocal cords. “I want you, Maddie.”
“You’ve got me.” She rocked atop him, coating him in her sweet cream.
“Forever?”
Maddie went still. She stared down at him for a long time, her eyes too dark to read in the dim light. Jack held his breath. Finally she leaned forward, her full breasts coming to rest on his chest, her lips a whisper away from his. “Forever, Jack.” She kissed him. “Forever.”
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Remember, your comment is your key to two great prizes this weekend! And be sure to return to the Nice Girls Writing Naughty blog to continue along the blog hop for more great prizes.
TRUST ME is available at the following retailers if you'd like a copy of your own:
