M.O. Kenyan's Blog, page 19

COVER REVEAL, ON CALL THE NEW YORKER II

HEY GUYS, COMING THIS JUNE FROM

AJ Ross has always focused his attention on two things, women and medicine. He was the best at both. He was the love them and leave them type. But when he moves in with a girl he had a fling with, a girl he cannot remember, his life slowly begins to unravel.

Katherine had always done what was expected of her. She was daddy’s little obedient girl. But when her father arranges a marriage between her and her friend she begins to rebel. Katherine bumps into a man who gave her a night she could never forget. The problem is, he can’t seem to remember her. So when they end up living together her sole purpose is to make sure AJ Ross remembers the night he took her virginity.

HERE IS AN EXCERPT

“I love this song,” he said as he moved towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. “The words especially. What do you think?

“Uhmmm it’s great.”

“Is there room in there for two?”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice as a flush of heat swept through her. AJ was staring at her as if she was the last drop of water in a desert. He strode towards her, dropping his pants and stood before her intentionally. He wanted her to appreciate what she was getting and she did. AJ was eight inches and a brain. Katherine could have the best of two worlds, an intelligent conversationalist and a dedicated lover. She hooked her leg on the mouth of the tub, her creamy skin glimmering in the lights. She saw how his eyes roamed her body and felt the heat of his gaze as if it licked her body. His eyes started at her toes, down her calf to her thigh. He pointedly looked at what was hidden beneath the millions of tiny little bubbles. Unconsciously Katherine stroked her inner thigh, and AJ responded the only way he could, with a full salute.

***

AJ was asleep when he was woken up by the insistent buzzing of his phone. It was Saturday and he knew it was either his parents or his sisters asking him why he wasn’t at the family lunch. AJ didn’t think he could drive all the way to the Hamptons. He would have to call them and make his excuses. He was relying on his mother’s need to baby him, to help with his dad. Adrian Senior would just send a helicopter to pick him up, but having this weekend with Katherine alone would help him get their relationship going.

Just as the thoughts of Katherine filled his mind, her unmelodic, tone deaf singing filled his ears. “….ooola ooola when you say my name I can feel the flame getting stronger, oh let me hear you say, ooola ooola we both feel the same and I can’t play this game any longer….”

“I’m glad we agree on that.” AJ had jumped off his bed and headed towards the cat being skinned. And now he wasn’t standing before a cat, but before the most beautiful woman in the world, his woman. AJ knew now he had been the only man her creamy thighs had cradled, the only one her most intimate secret had invited in. Katherine was his, unsoiled by any other man’s hands, undefiled by any idiot’s attentions. She was perfectly made for him. A man of medicine and science AJ rarely acknowledged God for much, but this time he had to say the big man in the sky did a good job molding Katherine.

“Are you sure you want to invite me in there.” His voice was deep and husky even to his own ears.

“I don’t think you have a choice.” Katherine stared pointedly at his groin and he had to chuckle. She was definitely not the same girl from the bonfire. He liked this confident side of her. AJ stepped around the bathtub and urged her forward so that he could slip in behind her.

“Have you ever done it in a bathtub?”

There wasn’t a surface known to man that AJ hadn’t had sex on. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. Instead what he said was, “Don’t think about anyone else but the two of us. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t forget this experience. Ever.”

 

FIND THE FIRST PART HERE

A Guest Post and Giveaway by Christina OW…. Why do readers love Historical/Regency Romance?

Why Do Readers Love Regency/Historical Romance?

 

Generally, I believe people read to relax and escape the real world and just be apart of someone else’s fictional world. Now, when it comes to Regency/Historical books, we crave a true escape from the modern world and all our troubles that mostly came with the age of technology. We all wonder how life would be without a lot of the technology present today and all the bills that come with it. What would it be like to live with no electricity and no pollution, to have someone speak to you like the human being you truly are and not a machine? What would life like if it were simple?

 

Historical romances are a true escape from the modern would to journey to an old simple life.

 

Others read historical/regency romances for the fantasy aspect of it and the majority of these readers I believe are women. The sensation of living the life of the rich and well born, wearing beautiful gowns—a different one for each time of day or social event, going to endless balls, mixing with royals and aristocrats, with handsome heroes ready to duel over a lady’s honor and being properly courted by respectable gentlemen… to just be apart of the Cinderella lifestyle. Ladies want to be treated with courtesy, to have men stand when you enter or leave a room, watch their language when they speak, open and close the door for you and a hundred other little things that existed at that time and practically extinct along with chivalrous men. But that could also be said about women—are their any respectable, decent ladies left after the end of the regency era?

 

If you are of one these readers be honest, do you sometime believe you were born in the wrong era?

 

And of course we can’t forget the bleeding heart romantics. Forbidden loves between the wellborn and peasants, arranged marriages that began with disdain and indifference before the characters finally developed a friendship that grew into a true love story. Or two characters who are madly in love with each other but can’t act on it because they are trapped in their marriages and honor demands they not commit adultery and of course the exciting illicit affairs between the members of the ton. Historical/Regency novels are true Cinderella stories that engaged readers until they become invested in the main characters love stories. This was the era that love matches were like unicorns and marriages were just business deals and to up one’s social standing.

 

Historical/Regency novels allow us to be apart of a world that doesn’t exist anymore, a society that we can love to love or hate because of all the social rules and restrictions especially when it came to love. We cry and we laugh with these characters and fall madly in love with them because the men are our Prince Charming and the women live the lives we wish still existed—well some part of it, I love the independence and the autonomy we have now from men—and live happily ever after.

 

Trial Of Love, a turbulent love story about a slave from America and the Earl who saved her from a fate worse than death.

Blurb: After her mother’s death, Melanie’s life in America is full of heartache. Still, she has never allowed herself to despair. She was responsible for the care of her beloved father. Then he remarried a woman to wicked to be considered a mother to Melanie or her two sisters. After years of abuse, the stepmother sells Melanie off—to work in a brothel, and about to be sold to the highest bidder. Through a series of fortuitous events, Melanie falls into the care of Christopher, Earl of Ashworth, who has family issues of her own. The solution to his problems—and redemption for Melanie—wind together toward destiny.

Contact Author:

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See you in the pages of Trial Of Love!

NOW AVAILABLE! MY PATH

 

The darkness seemed to take shape inside my head, like black roses blossoming behind my eye lids. Then something strange happened, something absolutely insane. I was standing in the far corner of the room watching as he stomped his foot into something on the ground.

I moved closer. Cautiously I took a few quick steps towards him, and then stopped. I watched in disbelief. I was watching, no witnessing myself being beaten into a pulp, being stepped on like a little bug that didn’t have a single worth in the world. The sound of his grunts and curses echoed deep into the thick air. His voice ringing, burning in my ears. I could taste the blood in my mouth warm and coppery. Then as his foot lifted in the air one more time I cringed away, closing my eyes sure that this would be the final blow…

I’m not quite sure how I got here. In a puddle of my own blood, hurting so much that my body turned numb. I became one of those, you know who I’m talking about… the punching bags. I was once a woman so proud, my head held high. A head full of legal knowledge, by the way. But apparently not much of common sense. I should have followed my heart and kept my head, my fears and worries on mute. So how did I get here, love led me here, that’s how.

Two years earlier….

I walked into my Papa’s house, excited to be home. Breathing in that nostalgic scent of home a sense of belonging hit me. I was home. I was finally home. After years of studying and toiling to be what my Papa expected of me, this is where I wanted to be.

My Papa’s hacienda was in Sultepec, Toluca Mexico. The country side was beautiful and peaceful, a total contrast to the busy cities of Spain. This was the time that I needed to wind down before going to my new job in Mexico City. Papa had managed to get his friend to employ me at his law firm. I would like to think that my exceptional grades got me in, but the truth was, Senor Montero was my god-father and he felt obligated to give me a job. Sure enough with a little twist of the arm from my father, he agreed.

But that didn’t matter, I was home and I was free to enjoy the things that I denied myself for almost fifteen years. My father had sent me away when I was twelve. He either didn’t know what to do with a teenage girl, or he didn’t need a reminder of what he had lost. Staring at me every single day ever since my mother’s death, could have been too much for him.

I stepped out of the house, the bull pen where they trained the horses in front of me. Inside it, a man’s half naked body stared at me, teasing me invitingly. I almost didn’t notice the huge white stallion next to him. With the way his head was bent, the rim of his Stetson hid the better part of his face. But his lips were visible, twisted in a scowl, but that didn’t take away from their beauty. They were thick, full kissable lips. As for the rest of his body everything was bare for my scrutiny. His muscled chest glistened with sweat, and as he pulled the horse’s reigns, the muscles in his hands and chest tightened, the muscles in his jean clad thighs seemed like they were about to tear through the denim for freedom. What I would give to be that man’s main focus for just a second. Or an hour.

But just as my fantasies were running away with me, I had someone call my name, so I went back into the house. I could hear dragged footsteps and light thudding coming up behind me, and I immediately knew who it was. Years had gone by, but the sound of my grandmother’s footsteps had stayed with me.

“Elita,” She called in her husky Mexican accent, “Come here baby, give your grandmother a hug.” She held her wrinkled arms out to me and like a little girl, I rushed into them.

“Abuela how are you?” I gave her a hug and rested my head on her chest. I had dreamt of this for so many nights and finally getting to do it seemed like another dream.

“My baby, mi niña, how have you been?” She held me at arms length, taking in an eye full. I knew what she was going to say so I braced myself, “Why are you so thin?”

“I’m not thin.” I laughed through clouded eyes, my heart souring. “Where is Papa?”

“Where else would he be. He’s outside with the horses. Sometimes I think he prefers their company to mine.” I helped her into a chair, and then knelt at her feet. It felt like Christmas all over again, when I would unwrap gifts at her feet while she combed her bony fingers through my silk y locks.

“Go and see your Papa, I know you want to. I will tell Maria to make your favorite food.”

Maria was the cook and also an elderly woman. It was a wonder that she was still working for my father. “Maria is still here. I’ll go to the kitchen later and see her. Right now I’m going to find Papa. Will you be alright by yourself?”

“Sure I will.”

I ran out the sliding glass doors, the first thing I noticed were that the man with the horse was no longer there. Disappointed, I headed for the stables. Papa loved his horses more than anything else in his world; well not as much as he did me, hopefully.

“Papa!” I called out once I was in range. The stench that came out of the stables was terrible. It seemed to have formed an invisible screen wall that I dared not walk through. I stood a safe distance away, but still made sure that he could hear me. “Papa!” I called out again, a little louder this time.

“Gabriella,” he exclaimed happily as he walked the distance that I wouldn’t, “Mija, how have you been? Did the driver come for you in time?” He hugged me with all the dirt and straws of hay that he had picked up from the stables.

“I would have preferred it if you picked me up, but I see you’re busy with the horses.” I gave him a kiss on his forehead as I always did, but soon regretted it when a salt taste was left on my lips.

“I’m sorry one of the fouls was sick. I hope you understand.” He gave me a look that I couldn’t stay mad at.

“It’s fine Papa.” I gave him a kiss and hugged him as tight as I could, soaking up the love he had for me, and the sweat.

“Senor Lombardo, the foul seems to be fine.” A voice called from the barn. The deep velvety baritone rumble burrowed to my core.

“Tony, just leave it and come out here.” Papa instructed.

A feeling of excitement tickled me, but at the same time I was waiting to be disappointed. Most of the time I had seen men with booming husky tones but their voices never matched their bodies. But I wasn’t disappointed. Tony walked out of the barn and his sweaty body glistened in the sun. He looked like the picture that you only saw on the cover of novels or the leading men in the intoxicating telenovelas. His tanned skin brought out the beautiful almost hazel color of his eyes. His blonde hair was kept short and tidy, as his six pack abs were neatly stacked against each other.

I was hypnotized. Every sense in my body was drawn to him. I didn’t hear what the two men said. And when I saw him stretch his hand out, I took it, and immediately a million volts of energy soared through my body and landed on home plate. I almost purred like a fourteen year old girl faced by her first crush.

“It’s nice to meet you, Senorita Gabriella.”

I hang onto his tongue as he rolled the ‘r’ in my name. His voice went through my ears and fogged my head once more. My eyes were going into shock, roving from his eyes to his weakening smile, to the muscles in his arms then to his abs, knowing not what to look at next. I was in limbo, but a nudge from Papa cleared it all out. I cleared my throat and tried to get a grip on my hysterical hormones.

“You can call me Ela or Elita. My grandmother calls me Elita, Papa just calls me Ela. But you can call me whatever you want, Gabriella is fine too.” I was rumbling and soon I was out of breath. I breathed in through my nose and tried to play it cool, “It is nice to meet you too.” In my mind the direct translation was, come and get me cowboy!

“I think your father would prefer if I called you Senorita Gabriella.” He smiled once more and a slight whimper escaped my throat and a gasp from my lips, my hand flew to my mouth too late to save me from the embarrassment.

Tony’s broad beautiful face went into a smile.

Dear Lord.

His smile was my kryptonite and slowly this stranger was breaking down my walls brick by brick.

“I would,” Papa said.

Of course he would. Ever since I was a child father needed me to make a distinction between the servants and friends. ‘They are our employees not our friends’ he always said. But under no circumstance was I going to let Tony see me as his superior. I intended to be his equal and eventually his friend, and maybe something more, but much later on.

“Maybe you could take me for a ride sometime.” It sounded innocent in my head but the sly smile on Tony’s face told me different. At least, his mind was on the same wave length as mine, “On the horses, I mean. To see the fields, that is if you are not working.”

“Of course Senorita, I’m sure your father would also like to join us.” Tony in turn invited my father, awesome.

“Sure.” Papa smiled at me and I smiled back.

If Tony was one of his son’s friends, wealthy and powerful he would have never thought of inviting himself to my date. Papa and I walked back to the house and every couple of seconds I turned back and stole glances of Tony. He was a hunk of a man and all of me wanted him.

“Papa, where is Tony from?” I tried to make my voice to sound as casual as I could.

“I think he is from Toluca, why do you ask?”

“Nothing, I was just curious.”

The rest of the day dragged on. I had lunch with my family and helped my Papa plan my welcome home party. It was unnecessary, seeing that I had already been home a day and the party was for that weekend. But it was an excuse for my Papa to have his friends around, drink and brag about my accomplishments.

That night I sat out on my bedroom balcony, looking out at the fields. Everything was so peaceful and still, there was no noise to drive me crazy allowing me to fantasize about Tony in peace. My mind was the only place our relationship would thrive. He would be my fantasy boyfriend as my father went on a search for my husband.

I went to bed that night more frustrated than ever.

MY SELFPUBLISHED BOOKS

hey guys,

 

for those who have read my books you know that i publish with LazyDay, Breathless, Crimson and Secret Cravings. I also had a publisher 5 Price but we parted ways. So i am used to the arms of an editor or publisher helping me along with my journey. But last year I self published the Mara Song and it did well-ish. it’s had not having that support system that a publisher offers you, but it is also somehow very satisfying when you put a book out all on your own. thank you ermisenda for the book covers.

so THE MARA SONG, is a bout a Kenyan (yey) girl who works at a tourist lodge. she gets taken in by a pretty face. She falls in love and its too late for her heart when she realizes that the man is getting married at her lodge. she ends up pregnant and has a valentine baby. well check out amazon and get a sample if you are not ready to commit yet.

anyway today i am publishing on amazon, MY PATH. it is NOT a HEA. I know readers tend to frown of reality especially since they have to live it everyday. A book is an escape that happy place. I get i get it. But My Path is a bit of reality, that love isn’t always as great as it seems. That your night and shinning armor can turn into darthvador.  My sister already warned me that I may get some nasty comments about my book. Hell, I expect it, people are nasty even when you make the girl Cinderella give her her prince charming and five babies. here is the synopsis and excerpt. The book cover is by Ermisenda, thanks again. if you are going to hate it hate the story don’t attack the author.

All Gabriella wanted to do was to go back home and work with her father on the ranch. But when she meets a young ranch hand she gets more incentive to stay on the hacienda. But her father has something else on his mind. He wants Gabriella to be married to his bestfriends son, to merge the two families wealth. Falling in love and running away with Tony, her father’s ranch hand, was not in his plans. Feeling like she finally got her happily ever after, Gabriella doesn’t expect Tony to turn on their love. The sweet romance soon turns violent and Gabriella considers going back home. Home seems to be the only place where things were normal and where her happiness existed.

Below is an excerpt from the book. I look forward to hearing from you.

The darkness seemed to take shape inside my head, like black roses blossoming behind my eye lids. Then something strange happened, something absolutely insane. I was standing in the far corner of the room watching Tony stomp his foot into something on the ground.

I moved closer. Cautiously I took a few quick steps towards him, and then stopped. I watched in disbelief. I was watching, no witnessing myself being beaten into a pulp, being stepped on like a little bug that didn’t have a single worth in the world. The sound of his grunts and curses echoed deep into the thick air. His voice ringing, burning in my ears. I could taste the blood in my mouth warm and coppery. Then as his foot lifted in the air one more time I cringed away, closing my eyes sure that this would be the final blow.

I didn’t know how long I was out; I wasn’t even quiet sure I was still alive. But then I took in a deep breath and noticed the strange scents in the room. This wasn’t the jasmine scent I sprayed in my house; it was more like a sterilizing detergent smell.

TAILOR BEFORE AUTHOR? I DON’T THINK SO

I know I don’t post much but these days my brain is on a go slow because I have no life. Anyway. If you read my last post Tailor before author, I was talking about how writers now have to tailor make their stories so that random people they have never met could like the book and recommend it to other readers. Because the apparent purpose is to build a reader base. You know get guys to love your books so that they can invite other people to read them and those other people can like those books. The cycle continues until you have this little village that is your support group who help you raise and develop your talent. I am eternally grateful to my village. So I would like to ask my village to have an open mind about this book BLEED FOR LOVE. It is not really a romance book, it is more of a women’s fiction. Yes I am moving away from the lovey dovey to a bit more, i don’t know, not lovey dovey books. I want to get into thrillers and the only romance based books I will be doing is the New Yorkers. Anyway I digress.

So I tried to tailor my book to get it to a point where the publishers will be like, yep that’s a good one, people will not hate us for putting it out there. And I did for half a night I was rearranging the story, but each change I made a piece of my heart sort of died. I felt like I was betraying my story. It’s not romeo and Juliet at all, its the Jlo and that guy in Enough kind of story. We have all had this blonde moments of insanity when we fall in love. Because essentially love is insanity. Most of the times the people we love struggle with who they are or what they are going through in their lives. They at times commit unspeakable evil but we love them anyway. The thing is when they hurt us it reaches a time when we have to say enough, i have to get out of this mess. Maybe we could help them along the way or let them die in their troubles, but nine out of ten times the love is still there. That is essentially what BLEED FOR LOVE is. When do you love yourself more than another person in order to save yourself. Sometimes Romeo is just Rome-wrong.



So someone might say don’t bother, like the last review of my book BETRAYED that totally 86′d my sales (sticking my tongue out at you), but i say bother. Stories are not all meant to be the same. What’s the point of buying a new book if its exactly like the one you bought last week. I will be self-publishing BLEED FOR LOVE (out next week). it will be the second book I have self published the first being THE MARA SONG.

Why take a risk if its not for love. Click on the covers to the left and get a sample of my book, then buy my book. Mama needs to eat.

TAILOR BEFORE AUTHOR

I have a story that i submitted to one of my editors and it was rejected because they didn’t think the readers would like it.

when we pitch stories, i say pitch because that’s what we do. You don’t get to wear a business suit or have a meeting face to face with a panel of judges or potential clients or business partners. But in a paragraph or a page you are supposed to sell your idea, this is in the query letter before they read the story. Make them want to read your book right? So my pitch always got me through the first round, but once they read the story they say, ‘It’s a great story but i don’t think the readers will be too happy with it.’

So now you leave the imaginary boardroom and have to convince the people on the street that you know what I have a great product, do you think you’ll like it? It’s hard to sell something to people who don’t know you, they don’t trust you or your work yet (new writers). I have had readers say, from the blurb the book had so many things to look forward to but did not meet my expectations, bummer!

Anyway, this story the hero goes from good to bad to good again. The heroine is vulnerable, appears weak. Let’s be honest, women readers don’t like it and some hate it even. My point was to show how love can make us weak and strong and determined. That sometimes you need to wait out the storm because you know that there will be a rainbow when the sun comes out.

no dice.

I was asked to change it. To make it more romance friendly. I have thought about it, actually I have already drafted changes. You know, a kiss here, a show of strength there. But each time I go for the original story, you know to scrap off the undesired parts, I feel like I am cheating my characters. So I am thinking, why not leave it like that. Write a part two. That way when the readers decide to hate me for the first part, i will be redeemed with the second. So the main reason I might write a second part is because of the readers. I have to tailor this story for them. Which is not a bad thing. You know how at times writers kind of leave the end with a let your imagination run free, like the guy gets on one knee and the writer doesn’t have to write the ‘yes i will’ part. Telling the readers, you know what, I think you got this you can end this story how ever you want to. That’s how i ended the novel.

I am so confused. So i am going to get some beta readers. See what they think about it.

mwa!

CRAZY IS BACK

so once in a while i stop taking my meds, take off my straight jacket and let the crazy out. The only thing i have to say is WTF!!! Sometimes I don’t know how to interact, no let me say negotiate some people in this world. It is true God created us equally, but sho! He should have given us a manual for those we can’t understand.

So as an author you always want to get feedback from your readers. Because know it or not that feedback helps us improve our future stories. I have two reviews both the same rating but totally different. A helpful review and a WTF!

I usually hate leaving bad reviews so i give constructive criticism. You know, let an author know where they lost me or what i found totally unbelievable, but i also include something great. That is what this reader did. and I thank him or her. Even though I don’t agree



Not a strong book

I felt like this book had a lot of problems with the flow of the chapters and the summary/scene. I feel that she NEEDS to work on beta testing to find errors and changing scene.

For me I felt it was a great plot but there’s alot that she can improve on so she doesnt alienate readers. My biggest problem is the fact that she doesnt describe the characters or she transitions to another character point or scene but its done too rapidly or she doesnt set the scene or explain the background of each character. Overall i felt like she rushed through and didnt take the time to connect with her characters.

She needs to work on those items from my point of view she could be a great writer but she needs to take the time to develop as a writer and take a creative writing course or join the local RWA chapter. Spend time developing on craft you have great characters but you are rushing the over all plot.

Now the next one is just a WTF!!



It’s not worth the price at all! A virgin heroine who acts like a slut from the beginning? There was no romance, it’s pure lust. Does that make sense? This is so not my kind of book. I didn’t even bother to finish it. Dissapointing!

Forgive me for disappointing you but what do you mean by don’t bother. If writers didn’t bother writing, there would be nothing to read and nothing for you to hate on. You didn’t even finish reading the book.

Well this is my venting process, now that I let it out I can get back to writing.

OUR FEBRUARY RELEASES

This month my sister and I have releases from secret cravings. People ask us being twins if we write the same things or have the same story lines, we always say no. How about you grab a copy of HIS BAHAMAS AFFAIR and THE NEW YORKERS I BETRAYED (OUT ON THE 27) and find out.

THE NEW YORKERS II, ON CALL

hey guys, Secret Cravings Publishing and I are releasing the first installment of THE NEW YORKERS on the 27th of FEBRUARY on the SCP SITE.

HERE IS AN EXCERPT OF THE NEXT ONE ON CALL

AJ Ross has always focused his attention on two things, women and medicine. He was the best at both. He was the love them and leave them type. But when he moves in with a girl he had a fling with, a girl he cannot remember, his life slowly begins to unravel.

Katherine had always done what was expected of her. She was daddy’s little obedient girl. But when her father arranges a marriage between her and her friend she begins to rebel. Katherine bumps into a man who gave her a night she could never forget. The problem is, he can’t seem to remember her. So when they end up living together her sole purpose is to make sure AJ Ross remembers the night he took her virginity.

She rolled the window down and shouted out. “You’d better get out of my way or I will run you over.”

“I don’t doubt it.” His lips curled into a sly grin.

“What do you want, my ego can only take so much rejection in one day,” she yelled again.

“Get out of the car.”

“Why, you want payback for your bitch of a girlfriend.” Just then she saw his face cringed as if he were in pain. Awesome Lisette, she chided herself. “I didn’t mean that you were going to hit me. But she deserved it.”

Lisette watched as Reno walked to the passenger door. She rolled the window down and for a few seconds they just stared at each other.

“What did she say to you?”

“I’d rather not repeat it.” Lisette stared straight ahead as her fingers curled tighter around the leather steering wheel.

“Nice car.”

“Thanks, it’s supposed to be safe, fast and it looks good too.” She scanned the interior of her car.

“You don’t seem to like it very much.” He grinned.

“I would rather have a Volkswagen. You know those little cute ones. But my papa says this is much safer. Safety before luxury.”

“Do you want to go out with me tonight?” Reno asked.

Lisette stared at him, sure he was going to take back his offer, or tell her that he was just joking. But he seemed serious. Lisette smiled and almost said yes, but then a thought came to mind. “Is this a pity date?”

“No.”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“I know.”

“But now you are asking me out?”

“Yes.”

“Do you always answer questions with one or two words?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. I’ll wait for you here.”

Lisette had been keeping her eyes glued to the road and her knuckles were turning white from how hard she was holding the steering wheel. She waited until they were stopped at a red light to sneak a peek at him. He was beautiful, his black hair still damp from his locker room shower, his haircut somehow looking like a Mohawk, his dark skin peeking out of his white flannel shirt, sleeves pushed up to mid-arm and blue jeans held on tight enough for her to see how strong his thigh muscles were. He was delicious.

She heard him clear his throat and Lisette’s eyes went back to his face. Her hormones distracting the rest of her body so much there was no nerve left for her to feel embarrassed about been caught checking him out.

* * * *

“Lisette, the light turned green.” Reno could feel the blood in his veins pump hard into one direction. He was trying to keep a clear head but with the blood heading south he couldn’t. He felt like Lisette’s eyes were picking him apart and the way her eyes roamed it was obvious she was yet to find her favorite spot. Reno didn’t think his groin could take much more inspection before busting. He had half the mind to convince Lisette to park under a bridge somewhere so that he could give them what they both wanted.

However, as soon as that idea got into his mind, Reno realized how bad it was for him to be with her right now. The only reason why he left with her was because to his shame he had announced she was his stalker, and then there was whatever Victoria had said. He knew how it felt for people to look down their noses at his mother, and the hurt in Lisette’s eyes told him she needed comforting. But he needed something else. He was grateful she had worn a tight pair of shorts, hard to get out of. Her dark succulent thighs peeked from the denim fabric, and that got his heart racing.

“You want to share your thoughts or are you going to keep staring at my thighs and licking your lips like the big, bad wolf?” Lisette asked, with a naughty look in her eyes and a sly smile on her lips.

Reno chuckled as his head fell back to the headrest. He tried to shift his sitting position to accommodate the bulge in his pants struggling to get free.

“I could park this car under a bridge somewhere and help you with that,” she teased.

Reno sucked in a breath as his eyes were reduced to slits. “I wouldn’t let you do that.”

“Why?”

“Because you are special to me. I wouldn’t disrespect you like that, by taking you under a bridge. That’s not how our first time together will be,” he swore.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“What, that I respect you?”

“Nope—that you are thinking about ‘taking me’.” Lisette mimicked his strained tone. “Don’t worry, my mama taught me better than that. In my experience sex talk is an ice breaker.”

“It doesn’t help with me.” Reno chuckled. “It would probably be best if you stopped looking at me like you do.”

“Like what?” She turned to look at him for a second and the cool deep brown of her eyes were filled with humor…and lust.

“Like you want to have your way with me.”

Reno watched as she threw her head back and laughed again. Her hand pushing back her thick dark locks. He had dreamt about running his fingers through that thick hair. Reno gave in to the feeling that had been building inside him since the first time he laid eyes on her. He dug his fingers into her hair and let his fingers massage her scalp. That simple gesture earned him a smile that made his soul quiver.

“Since I am buying lunch, I am taking you to McDonalds.” she smiled. “And since I like you and I don’t want my brother to kill you, I will stop tempting you.”

“I agree with both suggestions,” he said. “I like you too.”

“I’m glad, because I was beginning to feel like a stalker.”

“Well, I have the sexiest stalker in New York.”

“I really want to sleep with you, but maybe after the summer when we get to know each other better,” she breathed. “Hopefully by then we will be making love.”

FEBRUARY SALE

HEY GUYS,

I know I have been MIA for a while. I have been concentrating on turning 25 and all of a sudden being a grown up. I’m supposed to have all the answers apparently.

Any whoooo.

CRIMSON ROMANCE, is having a sale for the entire month of February.

It’s love month I guess, I wish my love life got that memo.

They published my book REBEL’S OWN which is doing extremely well. Thank you guys.

Check them out (Crimson Romance) and fall in love with new stories, characters and authors.

Look out for BETRAYED