In honor of my new Christmas release, Forever December, on December 14th I’ll be hanging out with the Smutketeers for their 12 days of Xmas extravaganza. I’m so totally excited because I’ll be sharing the day with the marvelous Michelle Pillow and Mandy Roth! Woooo!
Be sure to catch my post that day because in addition to hot hunky winter vampires, I’m going to tell you how to make Shrimp Creole. It’s a dish I grew up loving thanks to my Louisiana grandmother. If you make this particular nom-nom, be sure to tell me how it turned out. AND, if you’re going to the Authors After Dark convention in New Orleans, let’s hook up there for sure!
Can you handle…a Forever December? Coming December 14th
Hey all! This year we’re doing something a bit ‘bigger’ for the Brenda Novak Diabetes Research charity auction. In addition to a Nook, a group of awesome authors have graciously donated a ton of signed books to my basket. The winner will receive everything in the picture below, and then some!
Please spread the word. We want to raise more money for this cause than we did last year, as well as show these authors that we love their work. If you are unable to bid, pass the word to your friends, coworkers and relatives. They may know someone that would love to get their hands on this awesome basket.
I’m attending this conference for the first time this year. I’m totally looking forward to it because it’s a reader’s conference – and as much as I enjoy writing, I’m a reader first and foremost. I just love good books.
I also enjoy a good party. Can’t wait for the Mythos Masquerade ball and the Steampunk Ball for lovers of all things steampunk. The site is still being updated so stay tuned for new information.
Are you coming? If so, let’s plan to get together! Visit the Authors After Dark site with all the planned events and stuff. Or click the graphic below to see a list of workshops and authors who are on the panels.
I’ll be on workshop panels with the fabulous Larissa Ione and Sylvia Day. I’m so excited I am beyond squeeing! Be there or be square!
Thanks to Mizz Mandi over at Smexybooks (follow her at @smexybooks on Twitter), I am hopelessly hooked on this danged series.
My first Karen Moning book EVER was Darkfever, the first book in the Fever series. After tearing through each novel, I’m excited to see Shadowfever, the conclusion of the series, to get all my questions answered. At the same time I’m sad to see Barrons, Mac and all their friends (and enemies) leave the stage.
To celebrate the end of our nail biting, er, I mean the end of the series, I’m joining forces with Smexybooks - we’re giving away two hardcover copies of Shadowfever! Just visit Smexy and join in on the Dreamfever discussion (<--- click here) for a chance to win.
Starts at 9:00am (Eastern Time) on Thursday, 01-13-2011
End at noon on Friday, 01-14-2011
Mandi will post the names of the winners right after the contest ends.
Release day is coming up fast, so if you're announced as a winner, PROVIDE YOUR MAILING ADDRESS - (NO P.O. BOXES) to me via e-mail as soon as humanly possible so we can get your order scheduled to ship as soon as the release drops!
NOTE: U.S. and CANADA only due to customs issues with shipping.
Click the logo to read posts by all of the other participants
No wedding, NO womb!
A brilliant movement started by Christelyn D. Karazin
Visit Beyond Black and White, for thoughtful, funny and down-to-earth talk
Why am I supporting this blog around the world? Because although I was married when my children were planned and conceived, I ended up a single mother anyway. Now some would say, well what’s the point of getting married if you’re going to end up raising your children on your own anyway? Marriage isn’t my point, not really. Children are my point.
Children need both sexes to thrive. And not just both sexes, but well-rounded parents. In my case, after our divorce the ex-husband was perfectly happy to walk away from our children. I had to find surrogate dads – luckily I had single and married friends who didn’t mind taking my son golfing, to play ball, do Boy Scouts, go snowboarding, camping, etc. Friends came to graduations for both my kids when the sperm donor wouldn’t show up. They came to plays and dances, football and volleyball games. In short, regardless of how strong I am or how educated, I couldn’t do it alone. Period.
While women are full of love and natural nurturers, if we were all that was needed to have and raise a child, then there would be no need for sperm. God knew what he was doing when he made men and women to need and complete each other. Can you be happy single? Absolutely. But planning to be single typically means there is no plan for children.
Why do children need their fathers? First, I can’t teach my son to be a man. Why not? Because I’ve never been a man, I have no idea what it means to be one and to be honest, I have no desire to be a guy. Second, my daughter needs to understand what a good relationship with a man looks like so she can tell the difference in her own relationships.
Black male-to-female relationships are at the heart of this issue. Our teen girls are told through the media that they’re supposed to go to a club as skanky as they wanna be with no consequences. Meanwhile, the young men are supposed to rope in as many women as he can while not being committed to any of them.
But when it comes to the real consequences of lax sexual attitudes, the result is 48% of black women have herpes, and more than half have babies out of wedlock. Those are sobering statistics which lead to even worse stats in store for our children.
Why do we put more planning into our next vacation than we do into planning our families? And why are we willing to accept less than what we want when it comes to ‘the ring’? The answer- because black women are fed the “you’re not worthy of a good guy” crap from a young age. It’s rare that black girls, in general, are made to feel special.
When I was growing up, in school there were the ‘special girls’ and the rest of us were worth almost nothing. We were lucky if guys were interested in us at all. We were expected to settle for being skeezers and taking whatever we could get. The ‘special girls’ had lighter skin than me and they were perceived to follow the standard of beauty set forth by society or MTV while girls like me didn’t fit that standard.
I was called black dog, pitbull, ugly, big nosed, nappy head, etc. And when people learned that I was a book worm, got good grades in school, and graduated early then I was told I was trying to be white. And none of that came from outside of the black community. It all came from so called family and friends.
Now how the hell was I supposed to grow up as a well-rounded woman able to make good choices and understand my worth when my own community was setting me up to fail? It’s a good question, isn’t it? There’s a lot to be said for constant subliminal bombardment, both inside and outside of the black society.
When a person’s color is the topic of conversation rather than their accomplishments, then that tells us a lot.
Gabourey Sidibe (pronounced Gah-boo-ree Si-deeb) the gorgeous star of the movie ‘Precious’ made the Elle magazine for October 2010. They made 4 different covers to celebrate this actress, yet there is controversy behind the magazine’s photos. Why? Because anyone who saw Precious knows that Miss Sidibe has very dark, beautiful smooth skin and dark hair, yet the photos show both a few shades lighter than her natural tones (see photo here). But why the need to make her look more ‘acceptable’ as if who she is isn’t good enough?
What the hell?
So back around to the dating thing – Don’t buy into the stereotype. That goes for black men AND women.
Currently there are horrifying statistics regarding our young black men. New York Times columnist, Bob Herbert said, “The Schott Foundation for Public Education tells us in a new report that the on-time high school graduation rate for black males in 2008 was an abysmal 47 percent, and even worse in several major urban areas — for example, 28 percent in New York City.” Read entire articlehere.
Black homes account for $850 billion of revenue via spending, per year. Yes, you are worth something. You are more influential than you think. See past the bullshit and learn to respect yourself. Respect for yourself is not putting others down or lashing out at someone else. Respect for yourself is learning who and what you are, the blessings you are entitled to (without the ‘tude) and being grateful.
There’s a big difference between ego and self-esteem.
In the end when it comes to children, it’s not about your ability to be a good mom. It’s not about who you are as a woman. It’s about what’s best for the children that we bring here. It’s about knowing how to provide a emotionally, psychologically and financially whole home where they can learn to appreciate the differences that men and women bring to the table, and where they can learn to be the best they can be.
Women, don’t feel pressured to give up your ring. If you want to be married with children, don’t let anyone, including your man, pressure you into squeezing the watermelon out of your va-jayjay before he says I DO.
Am I saying that you should make ridiculous demands on your man? Uh, no. Am I saying that we should have our nose in the air and treat men like they have to lick our shoes just to be worthy of being in our company? Nope. But don’t take it to the other extreme either, where we feel that we have to bring another life into this world in order to be worthy of a commitment.
On September 22, 2010, a movement will kick off. A movement that will spark debate, cause us to question a social issue that we don’t talk much about anymore. A movement that will no doubt bring with it plenty of criticism and ‘how dare they’ comments. But, as a single (divorced) mom, I totally support this movement. And as a black single mom (it shouldn’t matter what my skin color is…but unfortunately it does) I applaud it.
Join esteemed author, Christelyn D. Karazin of the blog, Beyond Black and White, along with a whole slew of authors, television and radio personalities, and most importantly, dozens of moms, as we confront a practice that has decimated black families. No, it’s not a government thing. It a ‘us’ thing that only we have the power to eliminate.
The result of unstable, unplanned homes in the black community has led to the highest high-school drop out and incarceration rates for black males out of all other races in this country. There are more black men in jail than there are in college.
It’s time to say NO to “baby mama” drama. It’s time to say NO to the “baby daddy” madness. We deserve better. Our children deserve better. They deserve being brought into homes where they know they are loved and wanted, where the people who made those babies have every intention of hanging around to nurture them.
I’ll be blogging on September 22, 2010 as well. Check it out here, then hop on over to the other blogs for the shot heard ’round the world ;D
No wedding…no womb.
(commercial by Janks Morton, director of “What Black Men Think”, “Men II Boys”, “We Need to Talk” and other groundbreaking films)
Congratulations to the winners of the Christmas Goodies Twitter contest! I put all of the entries into a list randomizer from www.random.org (see results below) and selected the top four as our winners. So winners are:
janastocks – Tempting Adam & Dangerous Grounds by Shelli Stevens
rissatoo – Dragon Witch & Night Huntress by Yasmine Galenorn
Selestial – Happy Hour of the Damned & Road Trip of the Living Dead by Mark Henry
crista_mchugh – Undercover & Relentless by Lauren Dane
E-mail me your mailing address to tj@tjmichaels.com by tomorrow, Thursday, December 17th by 5:00pm. No exceptions.
List Randomizer
There were 54 items in your list. Here they are in random order:
This week’s theme is emotional scenes, whether happy, sad, angry or whatever. I chose a scene from EGYPTIAN VOYAGE where the heroine is scared to death.
Read on and see why…
Be sure to visit all the other fab authors via the links after this excerpt. Enjoy!
EXCERPT from EGYPTIAN VOYAGE
By TJ Michaels, Copyright 2007
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
All Rights Reserved Available in trade paperback or eBook
‘Oh, no, Rahn. Rahn, don’t you dare die, damn it,’ Chrys ordered along the bond with their spirit guides, knowing they would both send her thoughts and feelings along to Rahn the same way they sped his current state to her. He was there, but just barely hanging on to the edge of consciousness. But based on Mahpiya’s slight sighs of relief, it was more than there had been when she’d reached out to him mere moments ago.
Chrys burst through the front door, dropping her shoes and purse in the foyer. A quick stop in the kitchen for the first-aid kit, and she was off again, following Adonei’s specific directions through the apartment. She knew exactly where to find him—on the master bathroom floor, bare-chested in a pool of his own blood. The tile was so slick with it, she almost skidded as she sped over the threshold. Dropping to her knees, the first-aid kit landed next to his too-still body with a loud clank. The gash in his side bled profusely. Afraid to move him, but knowing she must, Chrys called to the spirit guides waiting to aid her.
*Adonei, lend me your strength,* she grunted, trying to roll Rahn over on her own.
The lion’s brute strength rushed into her muscles, filling them with supernatural might, heightening not only her own strength, but all of her senses as well. The scent of Rahn’s blood and freshly showered skin and hair filled her nose and mouth. The sound of his shallow, barely there breathing spilled over her and filled her with an urgency mixed with a strange dose of melancholy.
She pushed it away and focused on the task at hand.
Now able to easily maneuver the dead weight of Rahn’s densely muscled body, Chrys gently rolled him to one side and packed the wound with clean linen to staunch the flow of thick, hot, blood. His lids fluttered, but he didn’t make a sound.
‘Mahpiya, can you nudge him closer to consciousness?’
Chrys knew they had to pull him back to this side of the spiritual plane so he could call Mah. Rahn had to request her help. It was against the spiritual laws for a spirit guide to aid without being asked. They could not impose their will on their charges. But if they didn’t do something fast, Rahn would be lost to them. He’d die.
Leaning forward, speaking directly into his ear, Chrys pleaded for him to call to Mahpiya. To ask for her aid, even if he asked with his mind and not his mouth. Rahn’s eyes opened for a moment.
“Mah. Help. Please.” The words were barely a whisper, but she heard them all the same. The fear that had been riding her released the bands around her heart and allowed it to beat again. Mahpiya’s silent relieved response flooded the bond. Rahn would be all right.
Mahpiya disappeared all together from Chrys’ consciousness and she knew the lioness focused all her healing energies on Rahn. It was hard work mending flesh and replenishing blood, even for a spirit guide. But she’d saved his life once before. Now she would do it again.
But now Chrys was flat-out pissed off. Someone had done this to her mate. Someone had tried to take Rahn away from her.
Grabbing one of the thick bath sheets off the rack, Chrys covered up Rahn’s bloody body and left the bathroom. Not bothering to wipe the blood off her feet or remove her ruined dress, she flew for the nightstand across the huge bedroom. Almost as an afterthought, she spoke to Adonei.
‘Guard the apartment, will ya, boy?’
The moment the words left her lips, Adonei’s hackles rose. A deep menacing growl rumbled in his chest as his stance took on one of attack, gaze fixed on a point behind her. Chrys went still.
Unease snaked its way down her spine, and the nerves along the bottom of her stomach danced in time with Adonei’s growling. But she wasn’t afraid. The strength of her spirit guide still flowed like fire through her entire being. Whatever, whoever it was, bring it on.
She turned, ready to drop into a fighting stance if need be.
“Eden, what the hell are you doing in here?” she demanded. Unsure of his intentions, Chrys instinctively calculated the difference in their body weight and the moves required to take him down fast. He looked slightly crazed, but as soon as the expression appeared, it was gone again.
“Chrysalyn, your dress, what happened? You’re covered with blood.”
Now he appeared genuinely alarmed. Adonei wasn’t buying it, but her man needed help and she didn’t have time to deal with this right now. A faint groan caught her attention. Rahn. Heading toward the phone, she tossed the words over her shoulder in a rush.
“Rahn was attacked. He needs a doctor.”
“Really? Here?” he gasped. “Go to your friend. I’ll get the surgeon and call the local emergency.” And Eden was flipping open his cell phone on the way out the door.
Back in the bathroom, she held Rahn’s hand, stroked his beautiful fingers and ignored her tears as they splashed on the palm clasped gently in her own.
In mere minutes, Eden was back and the apartment became a hive of frenzied, but calm, activity as the ship’s surgeon came in and tried to extract her from Rahn’s side. Captain Laurens hauled her out of the bathroom, explaining how both her and Eden’s fast thinking had saved her mate. Rahn was placed on a stretcher, covered with blankets and gently lifted from the cold tiled floor. All the while, the ship’s doctors, along with the Grecian medics, marveled over the fact he was still alive.
Over at the Raven Happy Hour! Authors, Michelle Pillow and Mandy Roth (aka The Shoe Maven) are hosting a ha-yuge contest this month – The Raven Halloween Hunt! I’m a bit late advertising but here’s the info:
There’s a ridiculous number of prizes. Be sure to join in the fun. Can’t win if you don’t play.
Also, I’ll be blogging regularly over at The Raven along with a slew of awesome authors. I’m up on the 4th Tuesday of each month so be sure to stop by.
This week’s theme is holidays. I just LOVE the fall holidays – Thanksgiving, Christmas, Winter Solstice, New Years. *happy sigh* Be sure to visit all the other fab authors via the links after the excerpts. Enjoy!
Gift Wrap Optional is the story of Melaniece and Michael, two lovers who’d had an opportunity to live happily ever after…until he decided to marry Melaniece’s best friend years ago. Now Michael is back and he’s decided that he is going to be Melaniece’s Christmas present, him…and his fangs.
EXCERPT from GIFT WRAP: OPTIONAL
By TJ Michaels, Copyright 2006
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
All Rights Reserved Available in trade paperback or eBook
Melaniece Matthews muttered to herself, carefully navigating the icy winding road leading up to the high country.
“Man, what a weird dream. Michael, a vampire?” The same strange dream plagued her at least twice a week for the past six months. They’d started immediately after she’d returned from a short trip home to California. It had been so good to see her friends and family after being away for eight years. And beyond lovely to see Michael Bannon again—the man she’d always loved. And, sigh, the man who’d seen her as just a great friend. Instead of marrying her, he’d hooked up with someone else, a woman named Janna. The end result? Six years of hell on earth for him. And now he haunted her in her sleep.
While Melaniece could admit she’d thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with him after so many years, she sure as hell wasn’t going to admit he’d been on her mind ever since. Her dream crept around the edges of her mind. “What if he is a vampire?” she smirked to herself, a sarcastically evil grin plastered across her lips. “That would explain why he ripped my heart out by marrying Janna. There’d certainly been plenty of blood to go around.”
Peering through the cold, clear windshield, Melaniece grimaced as her thoughts turned to her favorite holiday. Instead of the usual elation about Christmas, she was assailed with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite nail down. There was the thrill of spending time with her children after a whole year of separation, chased by a longing for intimate companionship so acute she found herself on the verge of tears. Then, right there at the back of her mind was an elusive sense of naughty anticipation. But for what? A good lay? Not likely. She had no prospects and no interest in hunting for any. Michael’s handsome face popped into her head complete with fangs and a roguish grin, just like in her dream. Damn, she could practically feel the gorgeous, redheaded hunk making love with her as his incisors rasped over her skin. Yep, right there on the big sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace. Perfect spot.
“Hah, right!” she laughed with an unmistakable snort and waved the image away. But her breathing quickened in spite of a refusal to acknowledge the fine-assed man with fangs dancing around in her head. Give it a minute and her pulse would return to normal, right? Woo, she needed to turn off the heat. In spite of the freezing cold, the car was hot as hell. After a quick glance down at the console, she rolled her eyes up to the roof of the car. The damned heat wasn’t even turned on!
“Good grief, I’m hopeless,” she quietly grumbled. And it was all her dream man’s fault. Key word—dream. First off, she’d long given up hope in that quarter. Second, there was no such thing as vampires. So Michael was single again. Big deal. They’d had a great time reuniting in California six months ago. Who cared? None of it meant he wanted her now any more than he had eight years before.
With the car packed full of wrapped packages and luggage, Melaniece focused on the upcoming holiday. A glimpse at the pile of boxes in the backseat brought a small smile as she reminded herself this was a season to give generously to those you loved…and those who loved you back. And boy was she prepared to do just that.
Her children had spent the past year in an exchange program teaching English in Japan. It was amazingly expensive to live on the exotic little island. With most of their meager salaries going toward rent, groceries and train fare, the two had gone without some conveniences. When they returned to Minato-ku, a suburb of Tokyo, they’d sure as hell take lots of top-of-the-line goodies with them. Nothing but the best for her kids.
Christmas Day was fast approaching. She looked into the rearview mirror and spoke sharply to the woman reflected in the narrow glass.
“Okay you,” she said to herself. “No more goofy dreams, no more wasting time mooning over someone you can’t have and no more vampire nonsense. It’s Christmas and you’re gonna accept whatever Santa decides to give you. Got it?”
Got it. She popped a classic holiday CD into the player and hummed along with “Santa Baby”. With genuine laughter, Melaniece let Nat King Cole chase away her blues as she headed up the highway to her vacation home to meet her family. Up there among the snow-capped peaks, the long-toothed boogeyman was not allowed, no matter how yummy he looked in her sleep, damn it.
*****
The sun had just dipped below the mountain peaks when Melaniece pulled into the garage. Snow had begun falling in fat, wet flakes and she was relieved to see a big, black SUV covered with a fresh dusting of the white stuff parked on the other side of the wide garage. She slammed her car into park thinking now was a good time to do a funky little happy dance—her children, Denise and Melvin, were already here.
The second she shut off the engine and popped the trunk, an excited and very loud female came hurtling out the door. A blur of what looked like a white sweatshirt covered with red Japanese kanji symbols and a pair of black pants practically tackled her before she’d cleared the car door.
“Hi, Mom!” Denise screeched.
Melaniece’s heart melted and a big grin tipped up the sides of her mouth. Awww, it was so nice to be loved by one’s children.
“Hi, sweet pea! It’s so good to see you. Where’s your brother?” Melaniece asked, trying to peek over her daughter’s shoulder toward the open door leading into the house.
“I’m right here, Mom. How are you?” Melvin asked cheerfully. Long jean-clad legs carried him out to the garage and to Melaniece’s side. Six-feet-two inches of slender muscular male wrapped his arms around both sister and mom, engulfing them in a warm group hug.
Melaniece stepped back and grinned widely at her “babies”. At eighteen and twenty years old, they were mirror images of herself, with the exception of their dwarfing her modest five-feet-four inches. Long, dark locs covered their heads, apple pie cheeks sported dimples and they both flashed perfect, bright smiles. Their cocoa-colored skin and strong physiques were rounded out by stellar personalities. Beautiful and handsome described them to a tee.
Melaniece stepped back and shook her head in disbelief at Melvin. “Boy, are you ever gonna stop growing? I know you’ve grown at least a few good inches since I last saw you. And so good-looking, too! You know you get that from your mama, right?” she quipped. And there it was—the blush only a teasing mom could bring about in a grown son. It bloomed in his cheeks, turning his cocoa-colored skin a shade more reminiscent of a caramel-covered apple!
“And you should see all the girls that chase after him! And once I caught him and the neighbor…” Denise chimed in, ever the older sister.
“Mom!” Melvin implored.
“Okay, enough teasing your brother,” Melaniece chuckled, feeling happier than she had in…well, since her trip home to Michael, er, California. But she wouldn’t dwell on that. Or her goofy dream.
“Help me with my stuff?” Moving toward the already open trunk of her car, she turned to grab whatever was closest at hand and began to fill the arms of both Denise and Melvin with their Christmas gifts.
“Good lord, woman! What is all this?” Melvin asked, feigning a gasp under the weight of a particularly hefty box.
Melaniece didn’t answer, just smiled and handed over package after package until both their arms were loaded. Before she could reach for another one, Melvin said, “Go on in and relax. We’ll bring this stuff in. Dinner is already prepared.”
Melaniece felt her stomach tighten and rumble. Gosh, with all the packing, the long drive up, and preoccupation with her dreams—not to mention the constant low-grade arousal because of them—she’d completely forgotten about breakfast and lunch. Well, her stomach made it clear it was feeling neglected and the loud rumble was heard by all.
An aroma hit her nose the second she stepped over the threshold into the house. Shrimp, tomatoes, garlic…Old Bay Seasoning?
“Wooo! I smell it,” she cried happily. “Cajun food! Oh yeah! Uh-huh!” An awful rendition of the Electric Slide dance carried her on inside. She headed directly to the kitchen, not the least bit offended when her kids’ chuckles followed her. Yep, this was going to be one heck of a Christmas!
*****
With dinner done and dishes cleared, Denise and Melvin decorated the seven-and-a-half-foot real pine Christmas tree they’d picked up in town earlier. An overstuffed Melaniece slid onto the floor in front of the fireplace and watched them at play. Her fingers sank into the thick pile of the sheepskin rug as she lay on her back and moaned with a lopsided smile plastered on her face. Dinner had been fabulous. Denise had made Shrimp Creole with Dirty Rice and Melvin had whipped up a peach cobbler made with homemade butter crust. Oh god, she was so full, all she could do was lie there, soak in the warmth of the fire and hope she didn’t explode. But hell, she’d die fat and happy.
When the doorbell sounded, she didn’t move from her warm spot on the floor. Besides, she had a good idea who it was and secretly wished the cockeyed nosy neighbor would just leave her customary Christmas cookies on the porch and leave.
“Get that, will you Denny?” Melaniece drawled sleepily, eyes half-closed. The soft footfalls of her daughter’s bare feet, the quiet click of the deadbolt and easy swish of the front door opening reached her ears. She waited to hear Denise’s “thank you for the gift, Mrs. Orley”. A few moments passed but the neighbor wasn’t calling out her customary holiday greeting, nor was Denise giving her usual Merry Christmas to whoever was at the door.
She definitely knew something was going on when the little hairs on the back of her neck joined her stomach in an out-of-the-blue spastic butterfly dance. Melaniece cracked open one eye and looked toward the door.
Two large suitcases sat in the middle of her now snow-covered foyer floor and Denise, who was doing a fabulous job of completely ignoring her, thus avoiding her stare of doom, helped a bundled, but familiar-looking, form out of a thick parka.
Melaniece glanced over at her son and froze. If the boy wanted her to believe nothing was out of the ordinary, his ear-splitting grin pretty much gave him away. But whatever it was, he wasn’t telling.
She watched layers of clothing fall away from the person. A jacket, sweater, snow pants and boots had been hiding a wide, solid-looking back, thick muscular thighs and an ass that couldn’t possibly belong to a mere mortal. Successfully swallowing the lump growing in her throat, Melaniece sat up, both mouth and eyes wide. Oh, lord! Had the kids ordered her a stripper? Woo, what a hunk!
The hunk turned to face her and snatched a knit cap off his disheveled head to reveal tastefully cut auburn hair, startling green eyes and sinfully full lips.
“Holy. Shit,” Melaniece whispered.
Michael Bannon walked into her living room, eyeing her like the cat who’d swallowed the canary…or in this case, the partridge in the pear tree.
Enjoy snippets from these awesomely fantabulous authors!
