The Ding

*From Facebook.*

It’s funny, the intentions set privately manifesting through my loved ones who verbalize the same ones because we operate on parity.

And this parity is something that unconsciously pushes us forward in both growth and our goals in life.

So we find ourselves moving as a unit, with no weak link, because something tying us together, to the universe, reminds us that it has our back.

Always forward, always with momentum. Always with love.

Also, I love the ding…

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Shifting Routine

*Post from Facebook.*

My routine is a little off at the moment because I’m actively trying to change it so I can come back to writing and have more funds to trade with, but I have found that making time for personal growth has been easier with more “freedom” in my schedule. Right now? Taking the Leap, by Pema Chodron is a quick read I’m getting through after having finished Deep Work and Miracle Morning.

I’ll come back to romance reading stuff probably on this Thursday when I go to the club.

just started the chicken I’m batching, going to play again with Monchong fish fillet, made the alkagizer batch, and will be sitting down with a cigar and my iPad for Tastytrade content I couldn’t see because only one of my girlfriends rises earlier than Market opens…haha

This isn’t the growth I envisioned, but it’s way more powerful. I like it, Sam I am!

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Lofty Questions

*Facebook post, re: my return back to Author-hood.*

I’m literally scanning the watch lists for a trade since taking two off and my QQQ position losing (extrinsic) value right now, and having to ask myself: Am I not making a trade because I’m afraid, or do I seriously not like the odds?

I’ve looked at $GDX and $GDXJ for the last few days and been wondering about a play because IVR is high. But I don’t like the credit (if I’m directional)

Makes me wonder. Because I’m not writing at the moment. Oh, I finished my piece for LuckBox Magazine and I intend to send that off once I look at the suggestions. Felt good to put that together. My little short for L’Don that was cathartic? I haven’t picked back up yet.

Both the new Beauty in my life and I had to work this weekend so we didn’t get to spend as much time together as we wanted.

At least Carcer City dropped a new EP.

I’d like it if Summer had meaning again. Right now, based on last year and this? It’s tumultuous at best because last year I was dreaming of trading and seriously considering not writing. Now? I’m actually trading and trying to find that perfect bar to tend.

So I’m asking myself lofty questions because they’ll engage the mind to figure out the solution.

How is it I got the perfect bar tending job? How did I do that? How did I accomplish this miracle?

Don’t know, but my mind will figure it out. In the meantime, I’m tending bar at GWCC on the 19th. 6-1 AM…

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The Journey

*Reflections on my journey trying to return back to writing: a post from Facebook.”

So much has changed in the last six months and while I’m good with it, reflection is also a good thing. Looking back, to see how far you’ve come from where you were, to where you are, can be scary.

But I’ve started reading Deep Work by Cal Newport, with the intention of reclaiming even more of my time back so I can come back to writing fresh. And the intention of digging deeper into becoming my best self because apparently…shit’s about to pop.

I realized I’ve already read more books this year than I have in the past three years combined. That’s in part due to my commute to bar tending school, my down time, my time at the club and slow days at the shop. I’ve read more romances, more personal growth.

I don’t like that I have no standard die hard long term routine right now. Meaning, I used to know exactly how each day would go, right up until I stopped writing at 2: 30 AM. Now? I know that I only check my trading screen until four, I drink my sole, my alkagizer, smoke my cigar at 8, watch Tastytrade content, and talk to both girlfriends. Seems like a lot, but in comparison, it’s not.

Seeing Whitechapel and Fallujah reinvigorated me as a writer, because it’s their music I fell in love with as a writer, to help put the words on the page. I’m seeing Entheos in July, too. I’m getting out more because I’m pounding the pavement trying to find a bar tending gig. Don’t need anything high end, simple and easy will do until I’ve got this down. I need a fit for the bar, and for me. Because bar tending IS a personal thing.

Suppose the point of all this is to acknowledge that nothing is the same, energy is a constant and is constantly in motion and I’m grateful to move forward, as I dig deeper into my Self. I wonder what will be different about my writing when I return.

I did start a short, not too long ago. It was a cathartic piece mostly, built around some lyrics by Spiritbox, to help me release some emotion and pain over #OwnHerHeart. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, or if it’ll ever see the light of day. But even it, reads the same as my old work, currently. Suppose if I had to acknowledge anything else, I’d tag Steve Zobel and say I’m doing what you suggested, that night we got drunk at Spice Monkey.

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Finished with Bar tendnig school BUT (The Journey)

*Long posts on Facebook that have me questioning things as I find a way to return back to writing should be shared here, and possibly Patreon.*

I know what I’m doing this for. I know I belong on the other side of the bar, because I FEEL it.

But honestly?


“It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to feel free
It’s getting tougher to write, tougher to feel things
It’s getting harder to live, harder to pay bills
Hard to feel alive

It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to feel free
It’s getting tougher to write, tougher to feel things
I need help
I feel sick of taking these pills
Life must be sweet once we’re fucking dead…


Once that we’re dead

Sometimes I drown in the sound
By trying to find the silence
(The silence!)
Lost in the noise of this world

Show me the way through the darkness” – Novelists

Ignore the curved steel…

How appropriate the band name…

I miss this. I LIKED having to struggle with the characters and the writing. I enjoy it and will return. But I miss it terribly right now.

It felt good to hit “The End.” and feel that satisfactory little death (different little death) that I think artists get after completing a project.

I liked the mental struggle of figuring out how I was going to show the world that it could hope for love, no matter the struggle – it made me feel.

I hope you’re embracing your struggle.

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New Release from Tina Donahue!

Yes, I’m still writing.  Yes I’m still pushing me. But Tina’s awesome so….


Three powerful men will ensure her submission…

Surrender is the lifestyle club where professional women seek alpha males to dominate and pleasure them. A concept Bree envisioned from the moment she fled her impoverished past. However, dreams don’t come easy. To fund her wanton Malibu club, she needs partners.

Enter Lucius, Tav, and Cody, three wealthy and imposing males who know what they want and that’s Bree, stripped and submissive to their will. Bad boy Lucius has billions but what’s money when the right woman isn’t at his side to pleasure him sexually, while he uses her in the most provocative ways. Laid-back Tav isn’t so easygoing between the sheets, his dominance irresistible. Cody’s an adrenaline junkie, enjoying extreme sports in and out of bed.

Hot and kinky play is on the sexual menu, pulling Bree deeper into a shameless fantasy that can’t possibly last. Until and unless she’s willing to offer her heart.



Lucius pressed close, his thighs to hers, his hand cupping her neck. “Like this?”

He captured her mouth, their lips fitted perfectly, his bristly cheeks scraping hers, tongue plunging inside.

Gawd. She sagged against him, powerless to resist his strength, scent, and taste. Something minty but also unique, a flavor belonging to him alone.

She gripped his lapels, needing them to keep steady and to get closer. The moment she had, she ground indecently against him.

A breath couldn’t have slipped between them, her breasts crushed to his chest, not allowing her to inhale fully.

Who the hell needed air?

He deepened his kiss, taking rather than asking, using, enjoying, his roughness a thrill rather than something to worry about, and precisely the behavior she required.

Yet she still desired more.

Once she pulled the leather tie from his hair, she drove her fingers through his thick, silky locks.

A lusty grunt rose from deep within him.

She’d rarely heard a better sound.

He tempered his passion, gentling the kiss.

That was awesome too.

They enjoyed each other as she’d wanted from the moment they’d met, her feelings for him building each time he smiled at her or they shared laughter she’d tried to avoid, their friendship deepening despite her attempts to keep an emotional distance. During those empty days when she’d denied herself physical contact, she never would have believed a kiss could be so wondrous.

The world faded away, sounds retreating, leaving them clinging to each other, savoring closeness and intimacy.

Wasn’t enough. If possible, she would have crawled inside his mind, heart, and soul. Barring such nonsense, she stopped herself from coming on too strong.

He struggled for breath, the same as her, then pulled his mouth free and gulped air.

Lucky him. She couldn’t draw in enough to clear her head.

Tav slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him.

Whatever air she’d taken poured out and mingled with his, his mouth on hers, tongue slipping inside, his beard rasping her skin.

Her knees sagged, bumping into him, his fresh, woodsy scent surrounding them, bringing to mind a forest, reclining on fragrant grass, leaves floating down, sun winking through countless trees to bathe their naked flesh.

She wreathed her arms around his shoulders, wanting him as a shelter against doubt and everything bad.

Holding her in a firm but gentle embrace, he angled his mouth for greater penetration, his passion as deep as Lucius’s, yet also carefree. As if necking with her here was the most natural thing in the world, even though she’d kept her distance when they’d worked together. Not once sharing a meal unless they bumped into each other at lunch in the employee break room.

Those times had prepared her for now, their intimacy exciting yet comfortable and necessary.

Unable to resist, she pushed his tongue from her mouth and filled him instead.

Rather than protest, he allowed her to enjoy his clean flavor and suckled her deep.

She hadn’t expected anything less from him. Tav took life as it came, greeting whatever was in his path. For the moment, she was his sole focus and wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He eased her closer, his strength impressive yet subdued. His effort at containing it, making him tremble.

She wanted him as unleashed as Lucius would be.

And Cody.

He separated her from Tav.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished.” Tav shot him a look.

Cody shrugged. “You are now.” He grasped her wrist.

Surely, he wasn’t going to kiss it. He’d never seemed the romantic type to her.

And wasn’t now.

After he’d trapped her against the wall, he held her wrists above her head and cupped her breast.

Her nipples peaked, straining against her suit jacket.

He thumbed one rigid tip, his lime fragrance and sweet breath stoking her desire.

She wrapped her leg around his and pressed against him.

His grin spoke volumes. “Bad girl.”

“You think?”

“I know.” He brushed his lips over hers, their softness and heat striking, his smooth cheeks a balm, his tantalizing foreplay increasing her excitement.

Whoever thought wild monkey sex was the only way to go for a good time hadn’t experienced this.

Grab your copy on Amazon now!

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I know. Been a minute.

Paranormal Menage Romance

First off, there will be a new #HoldOntoTheLight post soon.  Not sure what I’ll blog about, but I will mention it.

Second, I’ve been podcasting:  Latest episodes are on Spotify (thanks for the short premium ha!)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I HAVE written ONE book this year.  It’s the follow up to my Carina submission from last year’s CFS of theirs, asking for Para-Rom.  Details to come shortly.

Lastly, we’re doing a giveaway!  Handful of awesome talent involved, and we’re doing a giveaway!  Click HERE for a chance to win a paperback copy of Sin and Chocolate by KF Breene, along with some surprise book swag!

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Excerpt from Male Dom Paranormal Romance

Kinky Faeries with a Taste for B&D! Siddella, Thief of the Low Court of Erotic Fantasy Romance with BondageFaery, discovers she’s stolen something very valuable to the cybernetic ruling class. Crashing a party, she doesn’t realize that the Black Angus, Faery’s legendary guards are present. With voracious sexual appetites that make modern BDSM players cringe, she fears the Black Angus will find out her one most personal secret along with the data she stole. Lord Frika has organized the Black Angus in an assault on the cybernetic ruling class of the Unseelie Kingdom in an attempt to begin reversing the damage computers and technology have done to Faery. Seeing Siddella, he realizes that this little party crasher is more than just a thief and that she holds the key to not only restoring Faery but to his heart. Can an thief who values freedom fall in love with a fierce fighter with a taste for chaining his lovers and then degrading them in every way he can imagine? Can the two them work past personal issues to save Faery from a fate worse than death? Or will her forced surrender be too much for the Faery to handle? “A powerful look at domination!” -Sensual Romance Reviews

She screamed!  Just the way her name rolled off his tongue dripped with sex and promise of things more wicked than the kiss they shared earlier.

His lips curled upwards in a slow smile.  “You don’t realize you’re a little power source for me, do you?”

She put her hands up in protest, aware of the chain dangling between them.  “What are you talking about?”  She backed up; found her ass bumping against a wall.

Frika slid an arm around the back of her head and yanked her hair.

Gasping, her lips parted in response.  Her pulse sped.

He drew her in for a kiss.

She tried to bite the tongue filling her mouth but found her knees growing weak while it seemed like trillions of butterflies danced in her stomach.  Her heart shot into her throat.

He tasted her, flicking his tongue delicately along her lower lips before pressing his firm mouth against hers.

She let out a tiny mew and pressed her hands against the hardness of his chest.  The scent of Earth and dirt filled her senses along with masculine aromas that threatened to intoxicate her.

She tried to shove him off but his body remained a stone castle against the growing surge of arousal in her belly.

His mouth moved over hers, sweeping over her lips and pulling her from all thoughts of resistance.

Power flooded her body at the same time, forcing her to respond to the pent up lust within her.

Dampness coated her lower lips.  She tried to rub her thighs together and soothe the ache between her legs but he continued pressing his thigh into her, rubbing her clit.

She whined into his mouth.

Fingers threaded through her hair, tugging on her strands.  Teeth nibbled over her jaw and down the line of her neck.

Siddella moaned.

In the distance, she swore she heard something click but her mind was too distracted with the pop of buttons off her shirt to notice anything but Frika’s hands.

“I knew you were beautiful when I saw you,” he murmured against her slick skin.

Heat flushed her pale cheeks into a shade of pink.

Frika moved the shirt aside, freeing her breasts and binding her arms at her sides.  Taking a nipple into his mouth, he kissed and suckled the nub until she was the ache between her thighs grew painful.

Siddella struggled against him, unsure of what to do next.  She couldn’t move much, didn’t want to move more than to shred her clothing and give into the nature of her kind.

But he would be her first.

She’d avoided direct sexual intimacy with others, in favor of teasing and maintaining control in all scenarios. The Unseelie version of sex usually ended up with one or both parties bleeding profusely.  That looked too painful for her taste.

But Frika wasn’t giving her the option of avoidance.

His hard cock pressing against her thighs made her wet, brought out wanton desires she’d long ago buried.  She literally wanted to beg him for release, but that would bring out all her fears once again.

Unseelie sex almost always involved inflicting damage for the thrill of the endorphin rush.  The fae wanted to feel and needed the heat of hurt in order to counter the freezing temperatures and mechanized environment that was so far from their nature. It also involved blood.  Lots of blood.  Usually, if both parties weren’t drenched with blood, cut so badly that wounds would heal in days instead of hours due to typical magick, then there was no true satisfaction.

She’d seen her share of Unseelie sex.  A mistake early in her career taught her the painful truth.

But Frika’s mouth continued nuzzling her full breasts, sucking her flesh and pulling strangled moans from her.

Unconsciously, Siddella wriggled her hips against his.  The press of his hard erection against her made her squirm.

Popping more buttons from her top, Frika nuzzled her belly.  His murmured whispers sent shivers racing through her.  “I have an idea.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. Her mouth parted, hands clutched chains. Her eyes widened.  She looked up and saw her hands bound to the wooden frame she’d been backed against.  “What the hell?  Let me—oh Lord and Lady!”

The snap on her pants popped off.  The zipper slid down and strong hands held her hips in place while sliding the fabric down her thighs so slowly.

Siddella looked down to see Frika’s huge body kneel before her.  “What are you doing?”  She shook, rattling the chains above her head. “How did you get me like this?”  Panic set in.  Her nerves went on alert.  She began sweating with the pace of her heart beating loudly in her chest.  He was going to—

His tongue dipped between her folds.

Hands on both legs held her in place while he flicked the tip of her pussy lips with his thick, wet tongue.

He pulled another moan from her. 

She clenched her fists tighter around the chains holding her. A hand pressed against her pussy, two fingers sliding in knuckle deep.

“You’re so wet and tasty,” he muttered and dove in with his entire mouth, catching the tiny nub of her clit between his teeth.  He sucked.

She bucked against his face but his fingers dug in and held her against the wall.

She whimpered at the exotic feel of his tongue pressing against her clit.  Fingers pumped her pussy, ramping up her breathing into a frenzied pant.

The play of his tongue swirling over her, inside her, around one lip, inside and to the other built sensation inside her so tight she felt a spring tighten around her clit.

A sharp stab of pain shot through her.

Groaning, she almost didn’t care about being cut open.  Still, she opened her eyes and looked down to see the thick blonde mane of Frika’s hiding his face.

He sucked and licked, fucked with his fingers, pumping two thick digits into her.

Her hips undulated against him, the sweet sensation of pain and pleasure blending into bliss that had her heart rate up.  Siddella slammed her head against the wall, oblivious to the pain that would have normally hurt had it occurred in a fight.

“Please, no!” she whimpered again.  Louder, her words came in stuttered bursts from the sensations swelling within her.  He’d bite her soon and cause her pain!

She fought against the tide inside her but Frika wouldn’t let up.

Frika’s lips nuzzled her lips. “You taste so good but we’re going to make you remember this!”

She screamed, “NO!” Shaking her head back and forth, she begged, her outcries being ignored while Frika’s tongue worked her into an even higher frenzied state.

The springs around her clit multiplied and tightened until something inside her broke.  Suddenly she was awash in a glow of feelings so warm and inviting, her body felt lighter than air and her head spun.

She heard screaming.

Frika knelt beneath her and lapped up what looked like colorful juice, liquid from her core, sucking harder.

Her head swam in a sea so deep, so pure and beautiful like the land she heard stories about when Unseelie was pure magick.  Colors held a sensual aura to them, even Frika’s blonde hair appeared lighter despite his being a faery dog.

The darkness enveloping her body fed into her heart, her pussy, her body and filled her needs even as she struggled against her bonds.

After what seemed like an eternity, she opened her eyes and saw Frika standing just before her with flames of passion dancing in his eyes.  She needed to refuse the next step in this game but couldn’t quite make herself say the words.

She opened her mouth and started to speak, her lower lip trembling when she saw him reach for his zipper.

He cocked an eyebrow.  “You’re a virgin?”

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red.  She couldn’t respond.

Turning her head away from him, she closed her eyes in shame even as the feel of post orgasmic glow held her.

“Looks like we need to play more before you take me inside you.”

Looking at the sizable bulge in his pants, she swallowed the lump in her throat. No way could she take his massive cock inside her.  The Black Angus were known in Unseelie for having demanding sex drives but that usually implied willing and experienced partners.

Weakly, she found her voice.  “How can you want a virgin? And how would you expect to slide that in me?

A wicked grin crossed those perfect lips.  His eyes darted across the room until they fell on an object.

Her eyes followed the line of his gaze.  “The wine bottle?  I don’t think so! No!” She shook against her bonds and screamed, “Let me go!  Let me down!”

She didn’t care if the Menace or Cyber-Fae caught her at this point.  He intended to fuck her with a huge wine bottle that had been sitting here for goddess knows how long!

He offered a sheepish grin. “You need restraint and to be eased into taking things like me inside you. And since I think we’re here for a while, why not have lots of sex?  Besides, it’ll keep both of us powered for when the grid drains you.”

He had a point.  The grid would drain her.  She wondered why he wasn’t affected but wasn’t going to ask yet. She had to play her cards right and get free so she could meet her contact, trade this information and get the fuck out of here.  “Ugh!”

He licked his lips.

She couldn’t tear her focus from the pink tongue that tasted her, deflowered her.

And now it made her blush.

With leather cuffs in hand, Frika clamped one around Siddella’s hand before freeing it.

She struggled against his grip but was no match for his strength. “Ugh, let me go!  I don’t want this!”

Photo copyright belongs to the original owner.

He chuckled low, “sure you do. You’re a faery. You’re an odd one, but we all must give into our nature.”

Before she knew it, she stood on the cold concrete floor with her pants around her ankles and her hands bound again.

Frika lifted her up carefully and kicked off her pants, leaving her in boots and her torn shirt.

She writhed against him and tried to kick out.

He caught her foot and yanked her against him.

She slammed into his hips and pressure on her pussy caused another wave of tightening sensation to build inside her.

She screamed again!

Frika laughed, a low dangerous sound. Carrying her with one hand under her bare ass and the other around her upper body, she leaned against him.

Hating the feel of his large palms caressing her ass, she squirmed but was quickly set down on a padded bench.

Before she could react, Frika bound her arms above her head, exposing her breasts even more.

A shiver ran through her.

She lifted her hips up to kick out at him but his other hand slammed both her legs back down against the padded table.

In a matter of seconds, he had her spread open and secured.

Completely exposed, she winced when she saw his smile.

The smile lit up his amber eyes.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I just want to play.”

She spat out, “I know what the Unseelie version of play is and I’m not interested!”

He chuckled, a rich deep sound that came from his chest, “I’m not Unseelie and I don’t play like them.  I’m different. I like to cause pleasure.”  The yellow in his eyes burned brighter, flames of intense desire for her danced wildly.

Siddella swallowed hard.  She couldn’t fathom anymore pleasure than what he gave her earlier, but…

He turned his back on her, stripping off his shirt.

The magnificent fall of his hair over taut muscles made her gasp.  Rock hard muscles looked chiseled into his body.  The play of low level light over his skin gave him more definition, emphasizing the hard and soft planes of his body. His hair swayed over his hips, just below the belt line.

She dropped her head against the cushion and sighed.  “I don’t want more pelasure!”

“Sure you do.  I saw the way your body reacted. Or had you forgotten?”

He trailed a finger lightly over her exposed flesh.

She shivered, hoping silently for more.

Feeling completely vulnerable, Siddella shifted against her chains.  “What do you plan to do to me?”

“My dear,” he glanced over his shoulder, “I intend to eat you.



Siddella wanted to believe the chills racing up her spine were from fear.  She wanted desperately to believe they had nothing to do with Frika’s warm tongue and everything to do with fear.

The caress of his finger over her flat stomach sent waves of pleasure rippling through her.

He set his hand over her belly, expanding his fingers around her so she truly felt small, feminine.

Slowly, those fingers crept towards her aching pussy.

She couldn’t stop her hips from rising up to meet the tips of his fingers.

He slid a long digit inside her.

Squeezing her pussy tight, she moaned and damned herself aloud!

His voice dropped a note with each word. “You’re so wet, so hot.”

Her stomach clenched and power flowed through her limbs, awakening something primal inside.  The warmth of energy returning to her limbs drew her lips upward. Her hips rocked up towards his touch.

Frika inserted a second finger.

That wonderful sensation spiked through Siddella again causing her to shudder and moan.  Her head lolled to one side.  Her mouth hung open, eyes closed.  Struggling against the bonds made chains clatter in the room.

His thick fingers worked in and out, spreading her open.

The feel of him inside her ramped up years of pent up lust.  Slowly, those fingers smeared her juices all around her opening.

She rocked her hips with the motion of his fingers, letting out a sigh she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. He was a Black Angus, a hunter wolf in Faery and he was doing marvelous things to her pussy that kept her from the horrific images ushering into her mind from her voyeuristic nature.

A hand brushed her thigh before those long fingers pulled away from her.

Siddella cried out, annoyed further that he’d stopped.

The wine bottle came into view. She gasped aloud. “What the fuck are you going to do with that?”

Frika licked his fingers.  “I told you, you’ve been feeding me steady energy since this began and in order for me to give back and get the most out of it, we must fuck.” His voice rumbled with that deep, masculine need.  “And I intend to prepare you for my cock.”

She smirked.  “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

Frika set the slender necked bottle down beside her.

She wished she could move her leg enough to knock it over and shatter it against the concrete but part of her was anxious to see what was coming next.

Hopefully it’d be her.

Frika took his zipper in hand and slid it down.  He parted the fabric of his pants and let his cock fall forward.

Her jaw dropped at the sheer girth of his prick.  She’d seen plenty of dick before.  Between stealing gigs, she took time off to play in some of the clubs, wearing her favorite short skirts and tight tops to attract the boys, get them to do her bidding, and then rob them blind.  None of them measured like Frika.

Even in the dim light she could see the hugeness of his cock.

His smile became a wicked grin.  “I take it you’re impressed.”

Frightened.  She couldn’t respond.

Stepping closer, Frika pressed the head of his large cock against her slit.

The head of his dick pressed into her opening, spreading her apart.

Gasping, she clenched her legs tighter, only to remember that she’d been bound.

He stepped back.  “I can’t and won’t fuck you like this.  I’m all for bondage but this position leaves nothing for both of us.”

Irritated at the loss of contact, Siddella whimpered again.

He picked up the wine bottle and ran it up and down the length of her thigh.

Cold glass made her shake.  “What if it breaks inside me?”

A feral grin crossed his lips. “Trust me.”

Buy on Amazon here


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Excerpt from an earlier Erotic Romance

Kandy is a young, free spirit. Not afraid to live life, she pushes her body and soul to the limit, hitting all the loud metal concerts, knocking back drinks with the best of them, and coming home hung over to Ian Richards, the man who has taken her under his wing since she came to live with him after her parents died years ago.

Of course, Ian has a past too. He and his ex-wife parted on friendly enough terms, but he still feels guilty for their breakup. It seems to him that his sexy little roommate, who happens to be nine years younger than him, was a part of their problem. Only, his concern for her seemed fatherly until she comes home one night after a Slipknot concert and decides to seduce him. After all, she’s old enough.

For someone her age, she’s wise beyond her years, which even Ian can give her, but still. Can Kandy show Ian that in order to grow, he has to get his priorities straight? Can he get out of his head and let go of the past long enough to see just what he has under his nose? Or will he cling to memories of the past failures and remain stuck?


Speeding down I-45 towards Dallas, he didn’t know what he was thinking when he let her drive. It was one thing to say “here, let’s take my car,” and another to say “Kandy, you drive.”
He should have known better.
Taking his car was a better choice, it was brand new. He took very good care of his new Jaguar, but Kandy just had to test the new fuel injection system on the highway this time of year. She just had to test the sound system complete with the latest and cleanest speakers on the market.
It wouldn’t be so bad if she listened to something calmer than the vocalist from Mudvayne scream.
Of course, maybe she identified. The vocalist was quite pissed off, but he had to be in his early twenties, right?
Stopping at a truck stop in Centerville, they both got out, stretching their legs. Kandy was dressed in blue jeans that hugged her well rounded ass and emphasized just how tiny she was, a red velvet jacket that hid her frame. She wore a tight black top, showing Ian plenty of cleavage. Her bright red ponytail swung over the curve of her ass. Complete with two inch boots, she was a knockout!
Ian dressed more conservatively. Black slacks, a beautiful purple ribbed sweater that Kandy bought him last year for Christmas, and his trusty Bostonians. Black of course.
Finishing up, Ian met Kandy outside the store and walked with her, arm in arm towards the car.
“I’ll drive,” Ian looked sternly into Kandy’s beautiful eyes.
Kandy pouted, “You don’t like my driving?”
“No,” Ian’s voice was firm.
“Coward.” Sticking her tongue out at him made Ian think of things he shouldn’t. This was just a little vacation, right?
“Fine,” she retorted to his silence. But I get to crank up the music still.”
Ian sighed heavily.
“Yay!” Kandy jumped up, clapping like a little girl who’d just gotten permission to eat sweets.
They got in the car and immediately, Kandy turned up the stereo. More Mudvayne.
Ian groaned.
“Oh come on, there’s passion behind this band. You know what that is, don’t you?”
Ian groaned loudly. “Yes, I know what passion is.”
“Was. Until,” she stopped herself.
Ian was quick to catch her mistake. “How old are these guys?”
It was too late. Kandy had drifted into the heavy rhythms of the bass players’ slap technique.
They were just outside Dallas when Kandy reached over and put her hand on Ian’s thigh. Twitching, he ignored her, feeling deaf. She’d switched out Mudvayne for a louder band with a vocalist who vacillated between sounding like an angel, or like he’d swallowed pins for breakfast.
Jerking when her hand inched up his thigh, Ian looked at Kandy, thrashing to the music. Well, that was a term for it anyway.
Before Ian became fully cognizant, Kandy’s hand had managed to find its’ way to his crotch. The warmth of her hand was welcome, but dangerous.
“What are you doing?” he asked when his zipper slid down.
Kandy reached a hand into his pants, threading her fingers through his boxers.
Choking back a groan, Ian managed to keep his eyes on the road. It had grown considerably darker now.
“What the hell are you doing, Candace?”
“Mmm, don’t call me Candace,” she purred before freeing his cock. She began stroking it, her fingers warming and massaging his rigid cock.
“I can’t pull over for this nonse–” he couldn’t finish the sentence. Keeping his eyes focused on the road, he realized her warm breath had kissed his cock.
Then her lips fell over him.
“I can’t be–oh god Kandy your mouth is so warm…”
Her lips brushed the head of his swollen member, Ian’s knees jerked against the gas pedal, sending them within inches of the car in front of them.
The car in front of them honked, flipped Ian off and changed lanes.
Ian peered down, then at the driver who gave him a thumbs up once he glanced over to see Kandy’s mouth working him over.
Ian groaned pleasurably. His body was on fire, his nerves ready to explode in Kandy’s mouth, but he maintained control. If she wasn’t careful, they’d wreck.
It started to snow.
“Fucking great!” Ian choked the words out when she sank his cock completely inside her mouth.
“I know,” Kandy replied. “You taste so damn good,” she licked the head of his cock like a lollipop. Ian grunted, trying to concentrate on the road, but Kandy’s tongue snaked around his shaft, sliding up one side and down another.
Clutching the steering wheel, his knuckles had turned white by now, and his thighs ached from his trying to remain in control of his car.
It purred, or at least he thought it did until he slowed the car and saw Kandy, purring against his cock. The sensation sent shivers racing through him. Her hot mouth covered him, sliding his cock out of her mouth with a popping sound.
“Kandy,” he gritted his teeth together. Slowing the car, he heard her giggle.
“This is so fun though,” she lowered her mouth over his cock, brushing the sensitive skin with her teeth.
The friction of her wet lips against his swollen sex was enough to drive him wild. “You should stop,” he reiterated, “or I’ll come in your mouth.”
“That’s the idea,” she licked him again.
Thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to buck her, he quickly realized that he only added to their pleasure.
She wasn’t going to stop.
Ian didn’t care right now. The speed sign passed by too quickly for him to see what the legal limit was, but it didn’t matter. His gray jaguar could outrun any patrol car, but he really didn’t want to have matters come to that.
“Kandy,” he lowered a hand to her hair, stroking her curls, playing, tangling his fingers in her silky hair.
“Silly pet,” she uttered and moved up and down his cock faster and faster, excitement building in him. His throbbing cock jerked in her mouth once, his control over his body gone.

Stuck: A romantic erotic novella. Buy on Amazon

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Winding Down – halfway through a story

I needed content and figured one of the things I could talk about at length was the shit I do when I’m not actively writing or pursuing the Luxury Lifestyle. Except when I’m not actively pursuing it, I am passively letting it occur to me ha!  How you like them apples?

Resident Evil training Facility

I’ve already discussed in part, my love of chess and continued desire to get back into a routine of playing regular games, both in bullet, and long game form.  I like stretching my mind, and that game makes me think.

It does nothing for my imagination on a writerly level that’s apparent.

Thing is, I’m on the other side of the halfway point for “Riding Tempest” my MC Fae/Vampire Paranormal Romance. I should finish that very soon!

A few years back I discovered old game console emulators. I’d found a handful of games as I used to play as a teenager and earlier than that and begun downloading them. What?  It’s not like the producers didn’t make their money back in the 90s with that shit!

Besides, it’s not like you don’t know my moral compass isn’t as…high as some.

Anyway, I started playing random shit. Mario Bros.  Street Fighter II, then I wondered if the gamecube had an emulator and I managed to find a copy of Resident Evil 0.

This to me was gold.

(For what it’s worth, I did own/legally purchase those games when I lived at home!)

When I was playing Resident Evil 0, I was working on Her Male Slave (I’m pretty sure that was the book at the time) or my foray into paranormal romance. The game had brilliant layout, a decent control system but I’ll mention my disclaimer: I’m not a gamer.  That would be the middle girlfriend and she’s more into the technical aspects of shit than I will ever be.

What really caught my attention was the detail to graphics and the storyline.  Yes, it’s tired. Humanity is getting erased by Big Pharma (essentially) or being used for control purposes and zombies are the natural outcome. First question:  How come I didn’t see this trend in publishing? Oh wait, I was riding it out.

I’d even tried to read a zombie romance that came out a few years later. Just FYI, it, and was terrible. Completely awful.  Imagine Sex in the City, and all the shit it did to set women back 100 years, only now we’re talking about four bimbo zombies. Or zombie bimbos…not sure which really but both seemed pretty accurate.

But the visualization and graphics, the soundtrack, all of the elements of surprise that can go into a horror video game just kept fresh in my head for a long while. After I left Texas and moved in with my ex in California, I used the training facility in Resident Evil 0 as the exact mansion in Endangered and the soon to be released follow-up, Cursed. When I did the rewrites on Cursed, I had to move things around and remind myself of the layout, and that there were a few rooms in Resident Evil 0 that had other purposes than just killing zombies.

The funny thing was trying to imagine how that room would look with actual lighting, considering in the game the only light that remained on was maybe a candle? If not, it was the moon glaring in through the window.  I’m pretty sure I’d used this same room in Endangered when Josef broke away from Livia, almost killed Marianne, (who did I base her on?) and went after attackers by jumping through the window, shifting into a wolf and taking off.

I remember much less of The X-Files game but it had the same sort of content as Resident Evil 0.

I find my inspiration from weird shit.

I’m still hoping to write a romance version of Dante’s The Divine Comedy, all because Sepultura had an album called Dante XXI. That, along with A-Lex were great concept albums.

Suppose I could share a small excerpt from CURSED since it’s going to be released before the end of the year!

Istvan watched Joséf study Livía and then something occurred to him.  Istvan had watched Joe do this a time or two before with his opponents, but that magic came to him in the middle of fight or flight and gave him an intense perception from an energy perspective.

This was not that.

Isabella’s worry wasn’t just broadcast on her face.  No, the frown real, but the scent she gave off smelled of bittersweet melon.  Shame too, because her disappointment wasn’t a detractor like her attitude was, but he had no idea of the full dynamic here.

Joséf let out a small moan. “You’re sick.”

“No.”   Livía turned her back to Joséf.

He grabbed her and forced her to look at him.

Bold move.  He’d never do that shit with Kissa.  Istvan knew firsthand how stubborn the little wolf queen was, and had tasted her fury before.

He wasn’t lying either when he said Joe didn’t allow Kissa to follow, she forced her way. Which he supposed was her right.

“You’re lying to me.”

Livía opened her mouth to respond, but stopped short.  A quick sniff of the air clued Istvan into her sickness.  He’d detected bitter, old dirt and earth, almost as if rust filled his nostrils and made them flair.

“Even for the undead, I can tell she’s definitely not well, Joe.”

“Don’t you think I can tell that in my mate?”   Joséf pushed back from Livía slightly, caressed her cheek.

Would his typical behavior show?   Or would he revert to what he’d been like before he and the pack had come to terms?

Kissa would hopefully help.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t feel it from here.  I tried to not let her broadcast so much.”

Livía’s stare on Isabella would have made a lesser woman cringe.  Instead, Isabella stood her ground, hands on her hips.

“I had no choice.  He can’t fight a two front war, Liv.  No one can without coming out scarred.  And we both know he’s already jagged enough as it is.”

“I resent that.”   Joséf growled and Istvan watched another set of posturing begin.  He needed to keep this from escalating, else his Alpha become distracted.


“What?”   He spun around, clear ire in his black and silver irises.  “Everyone’s been trying to baby me but the fucking pack.  I expected different upon my return.”  Joséf’s energy started to rise, his temper a proponent of that magic.

“And we have it.  Joe, calm down.”

The wolf magic was very much tied to feelings, emotions. Joséf had, as far as Istvan had known, never been one-hundred-percent stable.  “Calm down.  We can deal with things one at a time.  First, why are we here?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

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