Michele E. Gwynn's Blog, page 25

What Makes Writing Good?

What Makes Writing Good?


I'm getting back into podcasting! Sometimes, it's just nice to hear someone speak rather than read their words. So, while on my way to pick up dinner, I discussed what makes writing good? What movies from books make me cry? And who do I recommend?


Click on the link, and have a listen.

No words necessary: Magic Mike XXL

It's not always about reading romantic or erotic words. Sometimes, ladies, we just want to watch men dance!  You're welcome.


video platformvideo managementvideo solutionsvideo player

A sexy 'Whip' tease in the Kriminal Erotic Series

With the immense popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey, and upcoming theatrical release of the first book in that series, I'd like to offer The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss , an alternative BDSM-laced crime series that is hot, sexy, and has a strong female lead character - Elsa Kreiss!

Check out Elsa's 'whip tease' below. Then, go download your copy from Amazon.com. (or order the paperback for that hands-on experience).

The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss

Love is 'on the air' in February!

Love books? How about radio? Books discussed ON the radio? You're so in luck! I will be a guest on Blogtalk Radio February 23rd at 8:30 p.m. CST (9:30 EST) having a fun conversation with host Lori Hays on Reverie Radio. There will be great discussion about the books, love, sex in books, and whatever else two women can squeeze into the allotted time to titillate and entertain. Check out the trailer.

If you're on Facebook, join the event page for giveaways and ask me a few questions about the books.

https://www.facebook.com/events/1537794933159689/?notif_t=plan_user_invited

New Cover Reveal! Celluloss steps out in style

NEW COVER REVEAL!  Now and again, an author chooses a design for a cover, but realizes later that it just isn't quite awesome enough for the story or in keeping with the theme. With that in mind, that last thing I'd want to do is scare anyone away from reading Celluloss , book II in the Harvest Trilogy, by having a scary, ugly alien staring back at them from the cover. So Celluloss got a new glad rag and is stepping out!

Fifty-two years after the mysterious death of a military research specialist, Sgt. Trent Wilkins finds that the chickens have come home to roost, except the chickens are very angry.....and alien!

Download your Copy of Celluloss HERE or order the Paperback from Amazon.com.

The Evolution Begins Here! New Release

Click Image to purchase from Amazon.com.
Book II in the Kriminal Erotic Series is LIVE on Amazon.com in both eBook and paperback. The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss is your Must-Read for 2015.

Elsa Kreiss returns. Introduced in Exposed: The Education of Sarah Brown , Berlin's infamous dominatrix is back and embarking on a new career....in law enforcement!

New Career, Same Kriminals.

From spanking bad men to arresting them, Elsa Kreiss’s life takes a sharp turn from enforcing the rules of her dungeon to enforcing the rules of law after she joins the German police force. An unsolved case of three missing girls from Charlottenburg pulls her mentor, Kommissar Joseph Heinz, back into the dark abyss just as love finds him. While he searches for a killer, she fights an attraction to a very bad boy. Lukas Trommler is everything she likes in a man; cocky, confident, and hot. An art buyer at a local gallery, Lukas exudes culture with an edge of danger. He invites her into his world where she comes face to face with a familiar monster, Yuri Ivchencko, one of the most powerful and wealthiest men in the world with ties to the Russian mafia. His obsession with the sick and twisted side of human nature expressed in art offends Elsa, who doesn’t hesitate to say so. Her outburst lands her squarely on his radar.

A note signed by none other than Ivchencko is delivered to her hands. Their worlds are about to collide, and not everyone will survive. Can Elsa trust Lukas or is he far more dangerous than she imagines? What does Ivchencko want of her, and how is he connected to Lukas? Who is the killer, and who will be killed? Time is running out, and Elsa must embrace her inner dominatrix to save her friends and family. 

Get your copy today!

The Evolution Begins! New Release from Michele E. Gwynn Coming Soon!

The day is almost here! The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss, Book II in the Kriminal Erotic Series, will arrive on Amazon January 26th. Are you ready? Then Let the Evolution Begin!

New Career. Same Kriminals!



From spanking bad men to arresting them, Elsa Kreiss’s life takes a sharp turn from enforcing the rules of her dungeon to enforcing the rules of law. She sought a safer career, a way to help others after the kidnapping of her younger brother by a child predator. However, being a police officer in Berlin was anything but safe. An unsolved case of three missing girls from Charlottenburg pulls her mentor, Kommissar Joseph Heinz, back into the dark abyss just as love finds him. While he searches for a killer, she fights an attraction to a very bad boy. Lukas Trommler is everything she likes in a man; cocky, confident, and hot. An art buyer at a local gallery, Lukas exudes culture with an edge of danger. He invites her into his world where she comes face to face with a familiar monster, Yuri Ivchencko, one of the most powerful and wealthiest men in the world with ties to the Russian mafia. His obsession with the sick and twisted side of human nature expressed in art offends Elsa, who doesn’t hesitate to say so. Her outburst lands her squarely on his radar.Gregor Koslov was sold at a young age to an extremist Orthodox religious order. He spends his days laboring, and his nights in supplication. Now a young man, his first encounter with the opposite sex turns deadly. Fleeing the scene of the crime, he finds himself near-starving on the docks of Riga, Latvia where he’s taken aboard a commercial shipping vessel - the Vledelets - belonging to a rich and powerful Russian, his life once again in the hands of others. Now in Berlin, Koslov is questioned by Heinz, and his partner, Detective Birgitta Mahler, about his association with one of the missing girls, Liliya Avilova. Suspicious, they follow him to a manor house on Baumgartenstrasse, and discover a familiar art gallery delivery truck out front. On the other side of town, Officer Elsa Kreiss receives a note threatening to reveal the secret of her past career to her captain if she does not come immediately to 1211 Baumgartenstrasse. The note is signed by none other than Yuri Ivchencko! Their worlds are about to collide, and not everyone will survive. Can Elsa trust Lukas or is he far more dangerous than she imagines? What does Ivchencko want of her, and how is he connected to Koslov and Lukas? Who is the killer, and who will be killed? Time is running out, and Elsa must embrace her inner dominatrix to save her friends and family. 
Check out Exposed: the Education of Sarah Brown Here!

Murder in the Vale Free Chapter

Coming in 2015, my new series, The Ghosts of Cardiff. Join Father Cai Sayer and Detective Sheila Leeds as they investigate a 46 year old murder at Llandaff Cathedral. Murder in the Vale: The Beginning , is the prequel to the tale, and take you back to October of 1968 in Penarth, The Vale of Glamorgan, Wales when mod music and miniskirts threatened the conservative ways embraced by the upper crust. It was a time of change, the beginning of a sexual revolution, and a moment when two lovers were found murdered inside an ancient cathedral.

Murder in the Vale 


In the beginning… Cardiff is littered with ghosts, so say the superstitious and those born and raised in “the Vale”. From Glamorgan to Llandaff, unsolved murders give rise to tall tales of restless spirits. For Father Cai Sayer, these stories become questions of faith and mysteries to be solved. For Detective Sheila Leeds, they are cold cases with suspects who must be brought to justice. In between folklore and evidence, a forbidden attraction develops as the handsome priest and the jaded detective find themselves sucked into a forty-five year old murder mystery. Who killed Jameson Putnam and Philippa George in Llandaff Cathedral, and why?

As gorgeous as sin and ordained to cast out demons! Meet Father Cai Sayer.


Barry, Cardiff, WalesPresent Day
The newspaper landed on the porch just as Father Cai Sayer opened it. Right on time, as usual. Bending down to pick it up, he heard a gasp and looked up. Two nuns passing his quarters stood stock still and beet red. They stared at his shirtless form wearing only pajama bottoms. At thirty-three, Father Sayer had the face of an angel and the body of a wicked devil. His muscles showed his love of both running and rowing. His sable brown hair and bright blue eyes sat in a face that made women sigh, and then curse the fates when their eyes traveled lower and came across his white collar.“Sisters.” He acknowledged the nuns who, with a certain amount of both censure and grudging appreciation, nodded to him.“Good morning, Father. Cool out. A good day to stay covered up, don’t ya think?” The older of the two offered a light reprimand in her words, while the younger novice blushed and hid a smile.Feeling a bit cheeky, he flexed his pectorals, and smiled. “Aye, sister. I could use a bit of warming.” She gasped and made the sign of the cross before hurrying herself and her charge along.He instantly felt regret over taunting the good sister. Lately, Cai had been experiencing some doubts, a small crisis of faith. It didn’t have a thing to do with how women responded to him, which had been a life-long occurrence, one he was aware of, but didn’t pay much attention to, but rather, he felt increasingly restless that he was not fulfilling whatever his purpose was in this life. The church was happy to stick him out in the middle of Barry at a parish already headed up by Father O’Flaherty. Sure, he was old, and it seemed that the church planned on having Cai take over eventually, but in the meantime he felt he was wasting all his education and training. Prior to becoming ordained, Cai Sayer studied demonology extensively and attended the Vatican training for exorcists in the recent new sanctioning of this field of study. He was also subjected to two years of forensic investigation, often accompanying a team of police detectives to crime scenes. Up until that past year, he’d been part of the diocese’s lead investigative team sent around the world to debunk miracles, ghosts, and possessions. But then they assigned him here, and he felt he was languishing away.Cai walked back inside, closing the door so as not to shock any more nuns this fine morning. He opened the newspaper and sat down with his coffee. On the front page, he read:  46TH ANNIVERSARY OF LLANDAFF CATHEDRAL MURDERS.He sipped the hot brew and read the story. Being from northern Wales, he wasn’t familiar with the local tales. It was quite a story. Two teens were found inside the burial chamber of the cathedral November 2, 1968 after a massive search instigated by Oliver Putnam II. It seems his son never returned home after an All Hallow’s Eve night out with friends. All the kids were questioned, but no one had a clue who might have wished them harm. Jameson Putnam was found dead from blunt force trauma to the head. Blood on the tomb he was next to indicated his head had hit the stone, causing his death. The girl, said to be his girlfriend, was strangled and lying next to him. They were in a state of undress, considered in flagrante delicto. The last person to see them alive was the boy’s friend, Randall Hanson, who was cleared of any suspicion upon testimony by the limousine driver who’d taken them around that evening. The article stated the driver, Wesley Riverton, said Hanson sent him back to pick the two up, who’d stayed behind for some private time. When he arrived, he found no trace of the teens. He reported he waited an hour, and when no one showed up, returned to the Pier at Penarth to await the Hanson party. The article went on to say that upon hearing the Putnam boy and George girl were not at the cathedral cemetery any longer, the Hanson brothers and party were all driven home. The George girl was autopsied and found to have been thirteen weeks pregnant. The scandal nearly ruined the Putnam family, but thanks to Oliver Jr., and his rise in fortune through banking, they survived and thrived. No word on what happened to the George family.After reading the rest of the paper, Cai dressed, and adjusting his collar one last time, headed out the door with his briefcase in hand. It was a crisp day, a tribute to fall, and his shoes crunched colorful leaves that had fallen from the trees. He loved this time of year, and stopped to take a deep breath, taking it all in. Smiling, he climbed into his car and drove on to work. He arrived at St. Helen’s and parked. He spied Father O’Flaherty ambling along the sidewalk of the rectory. As he climbed out and grabbed his briefcase from the seat, a taxi pulled up to the front of the church. Cai proceeded to catch up to the priest.“Good morning, Father.” “And top of the mornin’ to ya, Cai.” O’Flaherty was a kind old man, and Cai looked upon him as a father figure, which was actually kind of ironic to his thinking.They arrived together at the front doors just as the cab driver began hassling his passenger about the fare.“Come on, lady. I don’t have all day. That’ll be ten pounds, seventeen.” The driver stood with his hand out waiting, agitation written on his ruddy face.“What seems to be the problem, my son?” O’Flaherty addressed the man.“This crazy old woman won’t pay her fare!” He turned and saw the priest for the first time. “Oh, sorry, Father.” He was immediately contrite. “What I mean to say is, she asked to be brought here, and now she won’t pay for the ride.” The woman in question stood still, staring up at the cross above the double doors. She was quite old, appearing somewhere in her late seventies to early eighties, and she had a small bouquet of dead flowers in hand. “Where did you pick her up from?” Cai asked.“Up near the Vale. Someone called in the pickup. It was an old building of flats close to city center.” He handed over the address.“Why here?” Cai waited, noting the old woman had not said a word.“You’ll have to ask her. She just said take her to the church, and this was the closest one.”O’Flaherty took the old woman’s hand, and Cai pulled out his wallet. “Ten pounds, seventeen, you said?” “Yes, that’s it.” Cai handed over fifteen pounds. “For your trouble.”The cab driver, feeling bad, made change quickly and handed it back. “No need, Father. Please, take it for the church.” With that, he got into his cab and drove off.“So, dear. How can we help you this day?” O’Flaherty addressed the old woman as he led her inside.“I need to see her, Father. I need to see my darling girl.” Her voice was frail and small. Her eyes held a faraway look.“And who might that be, dear?” Cai helped O’Flaherty get her to a pew. “My girl. My darling girl.” She kept saying this over and over until her voice trailed off.“Father Sayer, would ye be kind enough to put in a call to the police? It seems we have a wanderer here.” “A wanderer?” Cai didn’t quite understand.“Yes. One of the elderly that wanders off, usually from their home or from an assisted living. The poor thing isn’t all there. I’d wager one of the Alzheimer’s homes is missing a patient right about now.” “Ah, I see. Well, how about I get her something to drink first. She looks a little weary. Then I’ll put in the call.” He noticed she looked pale and malnourished. If she was a resident in a home, he was prepared to put in a complaint. Her clothes were rumpled and her hair uncombed. No one should be treated that way.“That’s kind of ye, Cai. A little juice from the office, and maybe one of Mrs. Jones’ scones?” “I’m on it. Be right back.” Father Sayer made his way to the office in the back of the church where Mrs. Jones, the church secretary, sat typing up next Sunday’s sermon. “Good mornin’ to ya, Father,” she said without lifting her hands from the keyboard.“That it is, Mrs. J. You don’t happen to have some of your delicious scones today, do you?” He walked over to the fridge in the side cubby off of Father Flaherty’s office door, and pulled out an apple juice.“You know I do. Blueberry today, and still warm.” She smiled and got up to grab one for him.“That’s perfect. We have a little situation on our hands this fine day. I’ll be needing you to call in the police for us.”“The police? Whatever for?” She placed the scone onto a napkin and handed it over.“We have an elderly lady out in the sanctuary in need. Seems she had a cab drop her off, but she isn’t quite all there, if you know what I mean.” “The poor dear. I’m right on it. Think she wandered away, do ya?” She walked over and picked up the phone.“That’s what Father O’Flaherty said. Must be a local term. But as soon as we can get her some help, the better. The poor woman seems quite neglected.”“That’s just terrible. I’ll let ya know when to expect them, and I’ll be right out to help.” She dialed and Cai walked back out rejoining the good father and the poor wanderer.“Here, ma’am. Have some juice.” He handed the juice over, taking the dead flowers from her hands. They were camellias, and had seen better days. “Take a sip, my dear.” O’Flaherty helped her lift the juice to her lips where she sipped. Cai offered her the scone, but she looked at it with vacant eyes. He broke off a piece and brought it to her mouth. She opened like a child and accepted the bite. They went on like this until most of the scone was eaten and all of juice was drunk. Mrs. Jones joined them and led the woman to the back office where she could be made more comfortable on the couch. Nearly an hour later, the police showed up. Officers Mahoney and Rigby arrived to gather the information, then determined they should contact the Human Services division. HS sent a social worker, who arrived at the same time as Detective Leeds. Sheila Leeds walked in and took command. The short woman barked orders like a military sergeant. At barely above five feet two, she came off as a vicious toy poodle in Cai’s eyes. She wore her black hair twisted up on top of her head adding an inch or two to her short stature, and her brown eyes flashed as she gave orders to Mahoney and Rigby to follow up on the address the cab driver gave to Father O’Flaherty.“And you are?” She made her way methodically over to Cai. “Father Cai Sayer.” She wrote his name down, then looked up about to ask another question when her eyes traveled to his face and stopped. She paused.She blinked and recovered. “Sayer. That’s Welsh for carpenter, isn’t it?” “It is. Very good, detective. You’re Welsh?”“No. Irish.” She looked at him again. “And what’s your position here?”“Vicar to our Canon.” He looked over toward O’Flaherty. “And were you present when she arrived?” “I was.” He waited, not offering any more than she asked after seeing that she seemed disengaged in the situation beyond the details. How can a person help another without genuine compassion?She looked at him, pen poised over her notebook. “Well?”A wicked gleam found its way to his blue eyes. “Well, what, detective?”She blew out a breath. “What happened?”“Oh, you’re interested, are you? Well, now…” He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, looking skyward as if in deep thought. “Well, a taxi drove up, deposited the poor woman on our doorstep, proceeded to complain about her not paying her fare, and then, after I paid it, you see, drove off leaving the dear here at St. Helen’s.” Leeds rolled her eyes and jotted down some notes. “Did she say anything?” “Yes.” Again, he waited.Sheila looked at Cai with barely concealed aggravation. “What did she say?” Sayer smiled. “She said, and I quote, ‘I need to see her, Father. I need to see my darling girl’.”“Any idea what she meant? Have you seen her at the church before?”“No, and no.”“Did she have any identification on her?” Leeds continued her questions.“We didn’t check. Isn’t that your job?” Leeds flipped her notebook closed and stuck it into her back pocket. “It’s not unusual for people to check.” She turned and was about to walk away when he stopped her.“So what will you do with her?” His concern was evident in his voice.She turned back around. “HS will take her to the hospital to get checked out. From there, we’ll fingerprint her and check the bulletins for any missing persons reported recently.”“Yes, but who’ll care for her? She seems quite neglected.”Sheila Leeds noted the genuine concern in his questions. She relaxed a little of her usual tough exterior. “No need to worry. We have a wonderful facility that works with dementia and Alzheimer’s patients. Until we can find her family, she’ll stay there.” She handed him her card. “If you have any questions or want the address to visit her, give me a call.” Cai looked at her card, then at her, fully appreciating her belated compassion. “Thank you, Sheila.”She looked at him sharply and said, “Detective Leeds.” “Indeed.” He smiled, and his dimples peeked out from the sides of his lips. The sight of him standing there smiling like temptation itself made her stop momentarily before turning away and walking off. HS escorted the wanderer out to the vehicle where she was helped into the backseat. O’Flaherty made his way back to his office, and Cai ambled up the center aisle where something caught his eye. He looked down on the pew seat and saw the bunch of dead camellias. He reached down to pick them up, and was intent on finding the nearest garbage can when he noticed the folded paper that was wrapped around the dead stems. He hadn’t seen that earlier when she was holding them, or even when he extracted them from her hands to help feed her. Now, he was curious. He unwrapped, then unfolded the paper. It was an old newspaper clipping.  The date was November 3, 1968, and the headline read: TEEN LOVERS FOUND MURDERED IN LLANDAFF CATHEDRAL. 

New Release from the Amazing Diane Rinella

I am smack in the middle of Scary Modsters by author Diane Rinella. If you haven't yet read it, you should! It pulls the reader into a mystery from the sixties, and tugs at your heartstrings with characters so defined, quirky, and real, that you fall in love with them. Rosalyn and Peter, Niles, Jacqueline, and Jane...you will love them all. So imagine how happy I am to announce that Rinella now has a NEW RELEASE!!

Something to Dream On
If a painting in the home of your perfect man reflects your dreams of doom, do you run, or do you dare to embrace love?While Lizetta lives a life of compassion, childhood bullying over a few extra pounds have caused this sparky woman to lose sight of the beauty of her soul. Jensen's recent past is filled with substance abuse, shady morals, and loose women. A brutal wake up call forces him to find his way back to the gentle soul he once was; however, there are some whose futures depend on the return of the demon.Souls can heal, but how long can they fight the forces that seek to destroy them? If one of those forces is the person who shattered your self-image, and she is determined to take down the one you love, could you still believe that everyone deserves a second chance?

Enter into the world of Something to Dream On.



EXCERPT 1
Tingles blanket my skin, bringing about peace to my soul. At last, redemption is upon me. Her words paint my soul with a comfort that no drug could ever match. “I am so grateful for you and Etta. This sounds crazy, but I swear that right after he died, I heard Eddie’s voice saying to let the universe be my guide. I tried to understand, but I couldn’t get it until I saw Etta on the side of the road. I thought I was living my nightmare all over again, but an angel in scrubs appeared and gave me hope.”“I looked such a mess that day,” she chokes out.My hands cup her cheeks so I can capture her gaze. New tears form because more than ever I see what a gift she was. “You looked like a savior whose only concern wasn’t her own. You were the beacon of light that showed me I would be okay. I was so afraid that seeing Etta would send me begging for a needle and a spoon, but instead you both brought me deeper into salvation.” I squeeze her hands again to emphasize my plea. “You ground me. For months I have stayed on track because I had this dream that there was something better for me, something that could make me feel rooted. That dream is you.”Lizetta’s tears mirror my own. Her eyes are so puffy and red that I worry for her all over again. When she grips my hand, both fear and anticipation fill me over her upcoming words. “Time and again, my father hurt me. When you first said that you were fighting an addiction, my mind went to the time he smacked Jimmy across the face so hard that blood sprayed. After that, every time Mom and Dad fought, Jimmy and I cowered together. I’ll also never shake Mom’s expression while trying to hide why the cops had come to the door on the day Dad died. “My dad was a shameless bastard whose womanizing gave Mom Gonorrhea. Thank God she cut him off for good then and there, because eventually a hooker, a fling, or a needle infected him with HIV. The killing blow to our hearts came when Dad’s last day was spent in a motel room, dying alone with a needle in his arm. For years I have carried those images of my father, a man who couldn’t be bothered to shake a habit—not for his wife and certainly not for his kids. I grew to love Paul because he showed my family that we were worthy of happiness. Now you have basically told me that you got clean for yourself, but are willing to fight even harder for my sake. Do you have any idea how that sounds to a little girl who was hurt by her father, only to go to school each day and be ridiculed about her body? You too, Jensen, are a savior.”

EXCERPT 2
“Hi,” the flirty guy says. I return the greeting and smile. He is kind of cute, despite being wasted. Tipsy I can handle, but I really dislike being around anyone who is hardcore wasted.He nods. “What’s your name?”“Lizetta.”“Hi, um, Liz. I'm Denny. This is Jerry.”Jerry steps forward so that he is now by my side. Once I get the up/down full body glance from him, I accept what the game is. It’s proven when Jerry snickers. Even if I do stand a chance with Denny, Jerry’s judgment will likely convince his friend that I am not worth it.Jerry motions to Denny not to bother and says he wants to go for another drink elsewhere. Denny steps up to shake my hand. He takes a good look at my body before saying it was nice to meet me and then makes his way back to his friends.My eyes close off the scene. You’d think I’d be used to this by now. You’d think it would no longer rape my self-esteem, yet it does. This is so unfair. I have so much to offer. There is so much inside me that I long to share. My shell may not be perfect, but is it really all that bad? Doesn’t my heart matter? What about my soul?The rap of Griffin’s fingers on the table creates a roll of thunder. He’s tireder of this happening to me than I am. Still, he sits in the shadows with the light barely catching the skin on top of his head and lets me handle it. He may not allow that for much longer though.“Bye.” I give a friendly wave while trying to hide that my ego has been stomped on and smeared like a spider.“What did you expect?” Jerry says. “Fatties turn into hags because they can't get anything else.”Griffin slams his hands onto the table, commanding their attention. When he steps out of the booth, Denny and Jerry turn to face a monolith. It's like the scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey where the apes worship a wall of onyx; only instead of caressing it in wonder, these monkeys freeze in fear. Griffin’s voice sounds like God’s vibrato is rippling through Heaven and he is challenging them to a smack down. “I believe you meant to say, ‘It was a pleasure to have met you.’” Despite Griffin having muscles the size of machine-guns, that voice may be his scariest weapon.I’m wished a nice day before the jerks grab their friends and flee the bar. Griffin sits, and his voice goes back to the way I am used to hearing it in casual situations—moderately flaming and laced with hospitality that makes you expect him to have a Southern accent. “You okay there, Honey Boo?”I look Griffin in the eyes and tell him in no uncertain terms that I am fine. We both know I am full of it, but it is either that or do what I really want—give Denny a piece of my mind and then feel like an even bigger fool as I break down in front of him. I shouldn’t have to get used to childish people who have issues with my body, but that is what it comes down to. I can tell myself that their opinions don’t matter, but that doesn’t stop incidents like these from happening. I don’t know how many more times I can pick my shattered self-esteem off of the ground before I vow to never leave the house again.I have got to do something about my appearance. Sadly, every diet in the book leads me down the same road—an instant loss of five pounds, then weeks and weeks of painfully adjusted eating that amounts to maybe another two pounds before I hit a wall and can’t seem to lose another ounce. Then the initial five pops back on. How can I be motivated to exercise when I come home exhausted each day? If I could see progress, I could find motivation. But to have my body reject my efforts, time and again, leaving me as embarrassed over myself as Denny just did, makes me question the point of trying. Why not just surrender to the other gifts God gave me and enjoy my life?Sometimes I try to accept that I am really not all that big, but then moments like these happen and …What is it going to take for someone to see that I am worth loving? It’s such a painful road that sometimes I am left to question my own value.

EXCERPT 3
Ambushed.The moment I get home from work and step inside my apartment there is company on my tail—company with sweet breath that tickles my ear and reminds my body that it is male. “There you are. I missed you.” Usually when Laura does this, it’s a seductive whisper. Now she sounds like the Grim Reaper who has come to stake claim.I sigh. “We've been through this already.”I knew by the tone of the text she sent this morning that she’d soon pop in for a romp. It ain’t gonna happen, which is why I responded with a firm, “No, we are done.”Laura strolls her way into my apartment as if I have rolled out the red carpet. Etta immediately comes to attention. Why can't I shove Laura out the door like an intelligent person would? There is a difference between being a gentleman and being a doormat. I don't mind becoming a bit of a wuss when it comes to Lizetta, but with this girl? No way.“You mean the same game you and I have played for the last year? Every time you stop taking my calls it’s only to build the tension. I don’t mind you toying with me, but this go around lasting two months is pretty ridiculous.”I never should have slept with her after I bailed out. The brain inside my dick that overrules my sanity needs to be lobotomized. It took forever for her to give me a break after that. It finally seemed to be working, too. The last time Laura called was the same day her brother, Larry, tried to get me to come back to the band, again. Coincidence? Probably not. A few hours later I reached my ninetieth day of sobriety. With the exception of the text I got when Lizetta and I were on our first date two weeks ago, I took the few weeks of quiet that followed as congratulations from God for making it. It’s been insanity ever since.Hey, God. Thanks for nothing.Laura also makes me bitchy as hell.“It’s not a game, Laura.” I was always serious when I said no. It's just that she can be rather persuasive in changing my mind.She leans back on the sofa with one boot resting on it. Combat boots? What happened to heels? Given what she had started experimenting with when I left, this is a bad sign. Her skirt exposes the fact that she's not wearing any underwear. I hate when she does that.Actually, I wouldn't exactly call it hate.Why does everything with this woman have to be so challenging? Can’t she just be normal?No, with the hell she has been through I suppose this is normal enough. I can’t think about it, or I’ll want to help her. She turns my compassion around and makes me defenseless. She doesn’t want sobriety; she wants love. She wants someone to swoop her up in a grand gesture of devotion. I can’t give her that. I won’t risk my sobriety for her, no matter how much she is hurting my heart.Etta snarls at Laura, reminding me that I’m not supposed to feel for the woman. The spitefulness Laura brings out in me nearly has me hoping that Etta’s raised ears and tail mean she will turn vicious. I don’t want Laura harmed, but she’s exasperating. My head feels like it is going to explode, so I rest it against the wall and point to the door. “Laura. Please.”She slides down farther, thus sending her skirt up, just in case I missed the obvious. To ensure that her message is sent she tugs down her tank top. It’s not a display of modesty like it is with Lizetta, but more an act of exposure since the neckline stretches down past where her bra should be. Sweet Lord. She may not have any class, but memories of those boobs come rushing back. How I’d love to—Man, I know Lizetta and I have only had a few dates, but even if Laura weren’t such a skank, I couldn’t go there. I'm just trying to do something right in my life. It seems to be working, because not long ago I would already have been down to business.I toss my keys on the coffee table—despite knowing I should keep them at the ready to use as a weapon. I’m not getting my ass, or any other part of my body, near that sofa, so I squat beside her. Laura may have serious issues, but that doesn't mean she can't be reasonable and that I should not try to be decent to her.“Look. That reply I sent was serious. We are done. Please respect that and wish me happiness, just like I wish you.”She stands like she is going to leave. Instead, she tromps up to Etta and looks down on her. “Where did this come from?”Scratch what I thought about being a decent human. I’ve always known that Laura is more of a bitch than I want to admit. She's proving me right. “That’s Etta. I adopted her.”She stares straight at Etta and snickers. “You? You adopted a dog?”“Why are you so surprised?” Etta, honey, if you rip her a new one, I promise not to think ill of you.  

Beau Coup Authors on BlogTalk Radio

Have you discovered Gumbo Ya Ya on BlogTalk radio? That's where you'll find me tonight. Wow, what a conversation! Tonight's guests (besides myself) include the bestselling erotic author Sable Hunter, Katherine Rhodes (Consensual), and our cool moderator Debbie Workman.

Tonight's topic is Sex in Modern Romance, and when you get three erotic/romance authors together to discuss, it gets a little irreverent, a lot informative, and always fun. Come on and have a listen, and check out the LIVE reads of each of our upcoming releases. Yes, you will hear a little from book II in the Kriminal Erotic Series, The Evolution of Elsa Kreiss.



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