With these next new novels that I'm working on. . .Pipe Trilogy and Santeria Habitat Book 4, I'll ask who would like to beta on my blog to grab new betas! Someone brought it up in the comments and I thought it was a great idea.This means that a few dedicated blog readers will be getting a first glance of a novel before it's out. . .and deciding alternatives to the plot-lines and other things. . .
I'll talk about the beta stuff later. Right now, it's just more important to get these overdue books out!
Anyway, I've got to get back to writing. . . Plenty of books are due. . . Let's see if I can deliver them all this year. Should be fun to try!
***420 is a modern day re-telling of Little Red Riding Hood with a stoner twist.*** Interracial Romance 20,000 words. Blurb:Wolf is a legend, a rebel in the street art world. Museums have paid millions just for him to recreate the hard-hitting political images he’s portrayed on buildings all over the world. Yet, only a few know his true identity. Red is a rising star. Her murals throughout Miami’s poverty-stricken streets have triggered a craze in not only the art world, but in Wolf. He’s on Red’s trail, sniffing out her scent in the graffiti jungles of Wynwood and luring her to one of his legendary 420 parties—where true stoners join together on April 20th to partake of the greatest herb. Red has no time for men. Yet, Wolf is not the type to give up. Can Red stay on the path and avoid being ate by the big, bad wolf? Or, will they both collide, on a sensual journey, where weed smoke slips against bare skin and dreams equate to a box full of spray paint, an empty wall, a voice for the people,
and two rebels’ hearts beating to the cadence of Miami’s rough streets?
** My computer was stolen, when I took a greyhound down to Miami. That's what I get for being cheap. I lost several final manuscripts, ones that I'd uploaded onto Dropbox, but I guess apparently had not updated the online box.
That being said, I'm fucking beyond pissed and aggravated, and some of these books are like my third rewrites. . .so . . .whatever.
That's the life of a full-time writer. Sometimes we lose books. The only good thing about this in my case is, with every re-write, the story becomes closer to perfect.
So what am I writing now?
There's a mania to my writing process. I write 5-10,000 words/day. The catch is, I can't stay on one book all day. That being said, I'm writing, and I'm happier than I've been in a long time since separating. and these final books are coming, but understand, they're not just books to me anymore. I'm looking at these novels as My Legacy. I'm in the zone, trying to do my best to blow your mind, so I won't rush the flow, and I won't just throw out a bunch of jumbled stories just cause the wait has been forever. I love you all for your support, but my books are not quick hustles to take your money. Writing is art to me. My goal is to draw you into a world that you have never seen before, and then drug you. Get you addicted.
Again, what I'm writing now?
***Commitment to Love (Chase and Jasmine) 60% Complete, (third rewrite) (bring your black dresses. . .there's going to be some funerals for some characters.) ***Complete with You (Jay and Evie, Pipe's POV) 100% Complete, (In the revision stage) (Wynwood is the big background for this one, and Pipe is Pipe and Jay is Jay.) ***Flaming Tongues (Santeria Habitat #4) Final Outline and beginning chapters 20% Complete (Lots of research done for the Shinto Habitat. We're going to Tokyo, baby!) There is another book I'm writing for my graduate degree at Seton Hill's Writing Popular Fiction program. I have to turn 30 pages each month. It's called, The Beauty in the Breakdown. A dark, dark, dark, magical realism retelling of Beauty in the Beast.
I fled them both, Pipe and Jay. Miami beach served as my escape. Although sunlight warmed my skin, I remained cold to it all. People laughed around me. I shut it out. My stomach growled, but I could not eat. All day, I walked, my mind spinning around everything that had happened.
How had I allowed them both to seep into my skin, and own me? This emergency trip to Miami was supposed to be about Pipe. We were supposed to save him. But now who's going to save Evie? All I want is my friendships back to normal and a boring, regular freaking relationship with one man! My phone rang in my pocket. I checked the screen. Instead of it being Pipe or Jay, it was Lamm. Oh God. How did I forget about him? Shit. I can't talk to Lamm now. On paper, I should've been with Lamm. He had the hot nerd thing on lock.
He catered to me, considered my feelings in all things, and treated me like a human being. But he couldn't trap my attention like the others. As far as Pipe, well. . . he was home and laughter, lush, amaze-balls personality combined with erotic surrealism. But Pipe was also a very dark fantasy.
He was forbidden fruit, that's why he always tasted so good.
But things never worked out for the princess who feasted on the dark nectar.
And even worse,
now Pipe was broken.
Poison dripped out of the cuts all over his face. He hoped I could save him with my body.
I knew I couldn't.
Pipe and I are going to have to talk. What. . .happened. . .that can't happen again.
My mind shifted to Jay.
Last night, he owned me.
And around him, I wasn't Evie anymore. His love broke me down, altered my brain, redesigned my cells, had me craving more than the norm.
Around him, I sank deep into stormy waters.
Like the villain of a romance, Jay captured my neck, told me to hold my breath, and dragged me down to the ocean's bottom,
Jay had me doing things I'd never think to do, had me sharing his love, had the bottom of the ocean scraping against my toes, and the whole time I loved it all. I pretended I didn't. Society said, "No." Mom screamed, "Hell no."
But some nights,
late as I hid in the shadows of my bed,
I craved the downfall,
hoped for water to choke my lungs.
Last night I begged for it all, and he dominated me--his fingertips slipping along my skin, and then gripping my limbs as if he was scared to let go, his mouth teasing my nipples, his cock stroking my insides. My legs had turned into lead as I sank.
Warm water rushed through my hair and past my bare skin.
Mute sounds filled my ears.
I could not breathe.
And although my brain had told me to fight him,
battle the downfall,
and move my body,
I didn't listen.
"Swim to the surface," it screamed. "No. Don't go there. Save yourself!" Instead of listening last night,
I chose to suffocate on Jay.
I filled my mouth with his tongue,
stuffed my open, hungry legs with his cock,
and welcomed my demise.
------------------------------------------------------- Did you miss the other Visual Excerpts?
I'm going to put all Visual Excerpts on a page on my website right here: Visual Excerpts
***Do Not Watch At Work, and wherever else you can't watch Adult Gifs**** Before we get into the excerpt: Tonight, I'll be on Ancelli's Romance Book Club on Facebook, discussing No Ordinary Love and any other thing you want to ask!
Celebrity chefs composed mouthwatering dishes that Jasmine had approved.
Broadway set designers arranged the decor and turned the luxury hotel’s ballroom into an exotic, underground world of sex and mystery. Ropes of red light hung from the high ceilings, while yards of sheer fabric draped the walls.
Bare, breasted women strolled the space in strips of satin that tied around their bottoms and hid their other secrets.
Gossamer silk cloaked their entire faces.
With smooth elegance, they balanced trays on their heads and served drinks.
And now the time had arrived to present Jasmine.
Dressed in a tuxedo,
I donned a mask.
It was themed with the Beatles “Yellow Submarine” album cover.
Psychedelic blues, yellows, and reds painted the whole disguise that only covered my forehead, nose, and cheeks. Stacks of silver musical notes outlined the border like huge peacock feathers.
John Lennon himself might have ordered a second mask.
I tapped my side packet over and over as I waited in front of the orchestra, which was placed at the center of the ballroom.
Jasmine would be entering from the far back of the space, so that she could walk by all of the guests. . . in horror.
Sorry, Jasmine. But everyone needs to understand who you are to me.
Tonight, the world would know that she was mine.
Respect would be required.
If not given, then taken with a swift vengeance that I held only for enemies.
Those that knew me reasonably well, figured that Jasmine would be the first live-in girlfriend of many more. They’d watched me in awe as I lived with my old girlfriends for years.
Dawn, Wendy, and Lucy had strolled on my side from city to small beach town, elegant engagements to private dinners. Some compared me to Hugh Hefner and his bunnies.
That was all behind me now.
I’ll show her and everyone else. Tonight is a start. This will let the women know that I’m unavailable.
The ring would show Jasmine, Michael, and her family.
Everything else would fall into place. . .after I give her the ring.
Initially, Jasmine had wanted a simple welcome or small meet and greet with my friends. She hoped for something like a short news article about our relationship, or even a tiny afternoon tea with a casual group. Regardless, she begged me to do a quick hello and then escape back into her private universe.
I wanted a goddamn ceremony—horns blaring and tons of news cameras, high-end dishes and sparkling decor.
We’d fought for days on this.
And I’d won with my tongue between her shivering thighs.
I was the victor, and I had it all on video. My personal camera recorded, while I consumed Jasmine.
The top half of her body hung over the bed, defeated. I was the champion while she groaned out yes over and over, and then begged for my mouth some more.
But back to the masquerade. . .
The music lowered in the ballroom.
The doors opened far ahead of me, but I couldn't make her out.
Don’t be nervous, Tesoro.
“Rise!” the master of ceremonies beckoned all to stand and come to the border of the dance floor.
He was an androgynous man, wearing a mask done in tiny crimson roses. Those flowers swarmed all over his face, seeming to move each time he turned or pranced around. A massive shadowy cape hid his body and dragged on the floor as he strolled.
The guests sashayed forward. Curiosity thickened in the air.
Peacock feathers outlined the tops of their heads. Others had half-masks made from an assortment of material. Most covered only the wearers’ eyes, foreheads, and noses. Everything from gems to shards of crystals glimmered from their disguises.
“Welcome your queen!” The master of ceremonies clapped. “Jasmine Montgomery.”
I held in a chuckle as I imagined the look on Jasmine’s face when she heard the word queen.
She’s probably going to kill me for having him say ‘your queen,’ but it was worth it.
Everyone went quiet.
Even the musicians
held their instruments
close to their bodies.
Jasmine entered the immaculate ballroom.
Two nude men flanked Tesoro as she walked. They held her hands. Silver masks shielded the guy’s faces.
My treasure. She’s really all I’ll ever need.
Like the men, she wore her own disguise—a mass of tiny, black, and coiled lines started at her forehead, rounded both eyes, and covered only one side of her face with diamond-spotted feathers.
Dressed in black lace, Jasmine glided toward me. A strapless gown formed around every curve and trailed behind her in a wave of elegance.
Jesus. She’s enchanting.
I’d ordered the fabric from a designer boutique in Paris—Chantilly lace with hand-embroidered calla flowers that revealed my Tesoro’s bare flesh among the swirled pattern. Luxury wrapped around those thick hips and cupped her full breasts. Tiny gems glimmered up her bare fingers, hands, and arms, tons of gems that were done in a henna tattoo pattern.
She’s all mine.
She was a goddess, draped in darkness.
I wanted to fuck her,
right there in the center of the ballroom,
ignore the hundreds of people around us,
bend her over,
yank that lace away,
spread those secret, moist lips,
and slide into that luscious warmth.
That was how she made me think.
Vile and raw with no chaser, just the hard-hitting thrill of flesh against the mind-numbing rhythm of pleasure.
No. I’ll take you later. I have my other ways to have fun this evening.
I put my hand in my pocket and grabbed the tiny remote control inside. Oh how I loved my games with Tesoro.
Tonight, hours before this moment and before my staff helped Jasmine get dressed, I gave her a gift.
A special toy.
“What’s this?” She closed her robe tight as if that could stop me from taking her right there in our bedroom. “Get dressed.”
I grinned. “Open my present.”
“The party starts in an hour and a half.”
“The masquerade ball doesn't start until I walk into the building.”
Rolling her eyes, she hit her forehead and nodded. “That’s right. I forgot that you are a god.”
“One shouldn't ever forget that.” I took her into my arms and devoured those lips. Sighing between moans, she tried to pull away.
“Sit down, Tesoro,” I whispered.
“I have a present.”
She stepped back and sat in the cushioned chair behind her. “What is it?”
“Spread those beautiful legs.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned.
“Let me give it to you.”
She stared at my crotch. “Really? Haven't I had that present before?”
I forced myself to keep my pants on. “Not that present, Tesoro. You’ll get that later.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips. “Open your legs, Jasmine.”
She bit her bottom lip and opened them, inch by lovely inch.
I got right in front of her and dropped down to my knees. “You’re following orders with ease.”
She smirked. “I tend to follow orders, when they involve opening my legs and your getting down to your knees.”
“I’ll make note of that.” I landed a trail of kissed down her thigh and lifted her robe.
She wore nothing on under it, not even panties. Fuck.
I had to blow against those moist lips.
Groaning, she let her head fall back and mumbled, “No, Chase. We don’t have time.”
“What did I tell you about that word, no?” I gently pushed her legs apart some more and took out my gift from my pocket to show her.
It was a tiny, pink object, shaped like a pen that was thick at the top. A white cord dangled at the bottom of it.
With an opened mouth, she stared at it and laughed. “You bought me a high tech tampon? What the hell?”
I glanced back at it. “This isn’t a tampon.”
She tapped the dangling string. “It looks like one.”
“Trust me. If this was a tampon, then stores would be full of women pretending to be on their periods.” I parted her secret lips, relished in the moistness of them for far longer than I should have, and then inserted the pen inside of her.
“Mmmm.” She tensed against me as I pushed it in further. “What is this?”
“A special type of vibrator.” When I’d made sure the top part of the pen was inside of her, I twisted the bottom half off, slipped it down over the cord, and put it in my pocket. The toy and cord remained. When it was time to take the little toy out of her, I would gently pull on the cord.
She turned to me. “Now what, Mr. Stone?”
“Now you can get dressed.”
“Excuse me?” She laughed and stood up too.
“How long do you want me to have a little vibrator inside of me?”
I got up and walked off. “Leave it inside during the whole ball.”
“I will not.”
I targeted her with a heated gaze. “You will.”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“I’m the god of the day.”
“You’re a power hungry egotistical rich brat.”
“I’ll know if you take it off.” I took out my remote control from the other pocket and showed it to her.
“The vibrator inside of me has a remote control?” she asked.
I pressed the first button, ordering the toy to turn on and start moving inside of her.
Groaning, she grabbed the edge of her desk, closed her eyes, and mumbled, “Chase, stop.”
“Stop what?” It took everything in me to not rush over there and lick her.
“Chase. . ." She squeezed her thighs tight together. “Please.”
I pushed the off button. “You told me that I would be the god of the day.”
“No,” she said with her eyes still closed as if she was desperately trying to regain composure. “I said that I would do your crazy masquerade ball.”
“You said god of the day.” I considered turning on the toy again just to hear her groan and thought better of it.
Knowing me, I’d have Jasmine on her vanity table before she could finish the sound.
“Do I have to remind you, Tesoro? I have you agreeing to me being the god of the day on video. I for one, enjoy watching that particular film we did. I can put it on. Remember the way you screamed my name?”
Opening her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re enjoying this? Aren’t you?”
I winked at her and left our bedroom.
“I only said god for one freaking day!” she called after me. “Be careful, Chase. Tomorrow is a whole new normal day, and on normal days, Jasmine is the goddess of the day!”
I pressed my remote control to silence her rant and send more delicious vibrations to that body. Her grunts escaped the bedroom and fled into the hallway.
It was hard to stay away,
difficult to keep my hands out of my pants
as I rushed down the stairs.
Clearing my throat, I returned back to Jasmine in dark lace and the masquerade ball in front of me.
Not now. I won’t push it while you’re strolling over to me. You’ve been too good this evening. But when you get close. . .that’s when I’ll have my fun.
I wrapped my fingers around the remote control.
First we have fun with the games. Later, I’ll show you what’s in my other pocket, and hope you say yes.
I closed my fingers around the jewelry box. A shiver ran up my spine.
Would she say yes and marry me? Would she be enough? Should I even be thinking this way, while that ring weighs my pocket down?
Letting out a long breath, I concentrated on the sight before me.
Under all of our feet, the surface glowed in an electric lavender hue.
The lights dimmed and left only the candles’ glow as they adorned every silk-draped table. The full orchestra prepared their instruments and then played a slow groove that required the sensuality that only violins could master.
“Oh how beautiful she is!” the master of ceremonies declared.
Chatter shifted to silence.
Waiters placed a port chocolate glaze onto crystal plates and then stacked the sauce with pepper-crusted lamb chops. Each dish was sided with seared vegetables and lobster mashed potatoes, a new Jasmine-inspired addiction of mine.
The staff wore white velvet oval masks with wide eye-holes and no opening for the lips. Jasmine believed they appeared muted and odd.
That was the goal. Hopefully, the waiters inspired the guests to keep their mouths closed as well.
This is our night.
“Come!” The master of ceremonies waved at everyone.
Jasmine continued down the path.
“Come see the magnificent queen!”
Her steps faltered a bit at the second mention of queen.
Oh Tesoro. I know you’re cringing inside. You’re going to kill me aren’t you?
I tried to hold in my laughter and failed.
“Oh how captivating!” The master of ceremonies clapped some more.
The crowd edged around and drank Jasmine in.
I had no idea what they thought.
I rubbed the side of the remote with my finger.
Lust itched in my hands.
My dick had been hard since the limo ride to the event.
The whole drive, I pressed the buttons, testing out their various intensity levels and getting her to come all over my soft, leather seats.
Do you want to come in here, Tesoro?
Barely six feet away from me, Jasmine continued.
Hundreds of people glittered around her, but no one shined like Tesoro.
Sure, I’m giving up women. Many of them. But. . .this time I get why those guys in corny films say love is worth it. At least, I think I do? What is this feeling? Lust or love?
It was hard to understand sometimes, too much to comprehend.
She was a drug in my veins.
She was the song
that I played every night,
until my brain imprinted with the melody of her moans.
And they drummed,
over and over in my head,
triggering desire at the wrong times.
Like in that moment, while everyone surrounded us.
Is this love or an intense lust? Does it matter. When she’s around, I just can’t help myself.
Inside of my pocket, I pressed the button, delivering the command to the toy inside of her slick tunnel.
I wanted to make that lush pussy vibrate,
and force her to shudder,
and moisten between those lovely thighs.
She slipped a little with the last step.
Thankfully, the men held her hands. I caught a tiny whimper from her lips within the downpour of the crowd’s clapping and orchestra’s playing of violins.
She mouthed the words. “I’m going to kill you.”
And I laughed behind my own mask.
She frowned as I pressed a more intense level.
I met her before she could stumble again. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Stop it,” Gasping and falling into my arms, she whispered, and still I pressed the button, rocking that secret space between her thighs and sending intense throbs to her center.
“Chase,” she moaned and grabbed my shoulders hard. “Please.”
Not noticing her distress, and I doubted anyone else did, the master of ceremonies beckoned everyone to cheer as he proclaimed. “Welcome Chase Stone’s new beautiful girlfriend, Jasmine Montgomery!”
The crowd cheered some more, and I pushed the toy’s control button for the highest level. She shrieked against me. “Chase!”
“You’re mine.” I nibbled at the bottom of her earlobe. “You know that right?”
“Yes.” She trembled against me.
The master of ceremonies glanced back at us, waiting for Jasmine and I to start the opening dance. I shook my head and hoped he understood that I needed a few seconds or maybe even one delicious, throbbing minute with my treasure.
The crowd clapped, but in that moment, I shut them all out.
Her voice was a low murmur as she slowly rubbed her breast against my chest. “Stop it, baby.”
I kissed her neck and looked over the crowded, who’d centered all of their attention on us. Many pointed. All clapped. Even a few whispered.
They can wait all tonight.
I’ll start when she’s done.
“How good does it feel?” I kept my finger on the button and glided my free hand over her supple behind. “Do you know how many men in this ball room want you?”
“No.” She rocked against me.
“Good.” I held her closer to me with my one arm and continued to keep the button down on the control.
God. I want to fuck you.
“Please, what baby?”
“Oh never. . .mind. . .” She leaned in and bit my neck.
All of her subtle attempts at maintaining composure fell to the floor.
Slowly, she gyrated into me.
Who knew if anyone understood what was going on?
I barely could keep standing as my dick went even stiffer. I pressed against her and she rotated those hips.
The crowd clapped louder. They probably figured we were making out.
“How wet are you, Tesoro?”
“All down those thighs?”
“Yes, baby.” She tightened her hold on me and rocked some more.
“God, this is cruel.” I squeezed her behind, my fingers getting lost in the cushion of her pillow-soft ass. “You know what I would do with that wetness?”
Her words were breathless whispers. “Lick it up.”
She moaned,” Oh god!”
Some of the clapping faltered.
The master of ceremonies turned back to me.
I released Jasmine’s behind and gestured for him to get the orchestra going or at least do a damn trick.
Keep the baboons busy. I want to hear her come.
Who knew if he truly got what I was saying. If Jasmine moaned like that in my ear one more time, I’d throw her over my shoulder, rush us out of the ball room, and fuck her until that sweet voice went raw.
“I’m coming.” She fell against me.
I had to use all of my energy to hold her up.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. Is she about to go to sleep?
“Jasmine?” I released the remote control, held her close to me, and whispered in her ear. “Are you okay?”
The longest minute passed.
After that, she stood on her own, without my help and frowned at me. “Do not touch that goddamn controller again.”
“Tesoro, my ass.”
“Your ass is a nice one.”
“Chase,” she hissed and tried to walk away.
“Where are you going? We aren’t done.” I gestured to the crowd who’d now turned to us with confused eyes and opened mouths.
People in my facebook fan group know that I'm considering taking one of the subplots out of Commitment to Love, exploring that more, and making a book 4 "Secret to Love."
As you know, Valentine's Day to a Romance Writer, is like Christmas Season to retailers.
I've been busy.
I'm going to make a final decision next week, and announce the official release date then.
Anybody have any thoughts on whether you would want a book 4 in this series, or are you basically saying, "Kenya fucking release the book before I come to Florida and stab you four times in your brain!"