Snippet from my Sexy Super Hero Biker Series

She shakes her head without making eye contact. “No.”
Something’s wrong. The girl sitting next to me has turned into the exact opposite of the chick I nearly made love to.
“Then?”
She shakes her head. “It’s been a long day. I really should get some rest.”
“Okay.” I adjust my seat and turn the key in the ignition.
“Do you regret it?” Her gentle voice catches me off guard.
I leave the gear in neutral and turn to face her. “Not one bit,” I tell her hoarsely.
She smiles. “I’m a little scared,” she admits eventually.
“Of me?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Then?” I prompt.
She looks away. “Sex,” she whispers.
“Which part?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Maybe all of it.”
I place my hand over hers. “It isn’t scary if it’s with someone you love.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Why?”
“Ruining our moment.”
Her soft voice tugs at my heart. “You haven’t ruined anything at all.”
I caress her lips and wish I could kiss her again. My hand brushes hers when I shift the truck into gear and I’m haunted by another image of Lana being forcefully taken away from me. I move my hand away quickly. I need to get some sleep. I’m probably exhausted and hallucinating as a result. That must be it.
“I’d love to do this every night,” I tell her.
“Get drenched on the promenade?” she asks
“If it means snuggling up next to you afterwards — then hell yeah.”
She laughs. “You make me feel like the sexiest woman on earth.”
I’m glad she’s forgotten about her earlier apprehension. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”
“That’s because you bring out the best in me.”
Slowly the part of me that Cora destroyed after betraying my family is sprouting back to life.
“And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

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Excerpt from FIGHT FOR ME – prequel to Rescue Me #NA #amwriting

CHAPTER ONE
Leaking gasoline. Check.
Faulty brakes. Check.
I take a deep breath, check my reflection in the rear view mirror and count to ten. My nerves are on edge and my pulse races.
You’re doing the right thing, Cora, I tell myself even though every cell in my body argues otherwise. This is the right thing to do. It is for a good cause. Then why all the reassuring? I question my reflection. If everything was right about this project, why are you so nervous?
I’m not nervous, I’m just scared something will go wrong.
What can possibly go wrong? I wonder. I’ve rehearsed this scene over and over in my head. The simulation went perfectly. All I have to do is crash the car and wait for him to rescue me.
The FEELERS told me he can sniff danger a mile away. Everyone I’ve met at the organization I recently joined raves about him. They’re eager to bring him onto our team – they have a vision of a crime free world and they’re starting by cleaning up one town at a time. It’s about time we lived in a Utopia. I’ve always wanted to be a crime fighter – without having to become a cop. Bad guys needs their asses kicked because the law doesn’t always work in the victim’s favor. I’ve seen more crooked cops in my life than justice. Is that a reason enough to trick Caleb Daniels? my conscience questions.

Twelve Days of Christmas @BreathlessPress

My awesome publisher has a fab 12 days of Christmas promo. All you have to do is sign up for the newsletter and claim your free ebook. Check it out here:

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My book, Moving In, is free on Day 12 🙂

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Excerpt from Moving In #NA #Novella

I’m working on edits for book #2 in the Moving Series and thought I’d post a teaser from Book #1

Dean’s POV

There’s a note on the fridge when I get to my flat overlooking La Lucia’s famous white sand beach.

 

We need to talk. I will come over for dinner tonight.

Love,

Mom

 

My mother is shameless when it comes to breaking into my apartment. Every second of my day has to accounted for. My parents need to cut me some slack. People change—they’re always reminding me, so why the fuck does my mother keep looking for clues to suggest I might’ve slipped up?

I wonder what she and the old man have up come up with after reading the shit Ugly Betty posted. More charity work? No. It has to be something more serious.

My blood runs cold for a moment. I’ve always been perceptive when it comes to my parents, and this time I sense they’ve outdone themselves. Mom is particularly sensitive to what society thinks. She will go to any lengths to keep her reputation intact, and her ideas usually border on unreasonable.

Why does anyone have to take anything Ugly Betty says seriously? Sure, she’s amazingly popular in blogging circles in South Africa. But why the fuck do people pay any attention to the shit she posts? She’d had over a thousand comments the last time I checked her post. It’s like she posted pics of my hard, thick cock the way people were reading her blog.

I’ll find out soon enough.

The traffic’s eased up by the time I head out of La Lucia for the heart of the North Coast. Kwa-Zulu Natal is definitely the most laid back, beautiful place I’ve lived in. I love the anonymity of living here and being able to surf the waves before heading to campus every morning. The best part is the sunshine. Winter is almost nonexistent on the Kwa-Zulu Natal North Coast. People here don’t really care if you’re a celebrity or just a regular person minding your own business. They just let you be.

Unless they’re Lace Higgins.

“Arriving at destination,” my GPS says, cutting into my mental rehearsals of me shaking sense into Lace Higgins. I’ve pictured her with braces, unkempt, mud-colored hair, and garish makeup.

Lace lives in a pretty decent apartment complex near the only shopping center in Salt Rock. The beach isn’t too far off. In fact the complex is near enough for fine sea spray to drizzle on me when I get out my van. It’s a one-street town guaranteed to help anyone blend into obscurity. I bet her acid fingertips are the reason she has to live in a place where people give a shit about who she is and what she does for a living.

Lucky for me, security is pretty lax. I race up the stairs and pause outside her door. A split second before my knuckles can connect to door number eleven to knock, it swings open.

“Alison…dammit, you forgot…” The leggy blonde pauses after realizing I’m not Alison.

Her mouth drops open, and so does her satin robe.

Fuck. She’s as naked as the day she was born beneath the butter-yellow fabric. My cock hardens in seconds. She shivers slightly, and her nipples harden, and…I look down before she pulls the robe together… Her muff is shaved and so smooth I almost reach out and stroke her. Damn. There’s not an ounce of fat on her. Her tummy’s flat, her breasts full and ready to be tasted, and her skin’s a creamy white I could lick and bite until every inch of her was covered in little red marks.

“Show’s over, punk. Can I help you?” Green eyes flash blue murder at me while she knots the belt of her robe securely in place.

The acid in her voice is enough to soften my cock. “Maybe.” I can do acid too. “I’m looking for Lace Higgins.”

She gasps like I’ve proposed sex on the cold, hard floor. Her loose bun falls out of place, covering her face in fine, golden strands. She pushes the hair off her face and then looks me in the eye. “Why?”

“None of your business. This is between Lace and me.”

 

 

Excerpt From My Latest MS

“How exactly is an individual’s genes enhanced?” I ask her.
Cora changes the slide yet again. “Prior to my spying I believed genetic enhancements occurred naturally meaning people were born this way. However nature didn’t have a hand in this. The process begins before fertilization. Willing individuals supply their eggs and sperm to undercover labs for experiments and altered genetic coding. Once fertilization is successful the female is implanted with the genetically enhanced egg.” She looks at me. “You were created this way, Mr. Daniels.”