Excerpt: Sinful Liaisons by JC Gardner

Sinful Liaisons by JC Gardner



A family saga full of lust, lies and deceit, along with a nice heaping of spice!

Are you ready to take a ride on the wild side?   Smooth talking pretty boy David Jarconni, son of a millionaire businessman and a doting mother, is overprivileged and doesn’t appreciate anything. Destined to run the family business, he’d rather run the streets than be in a business suite.

His younger sister, Carol, is an overachiever who has already staked her claim to the company fortune. She undermines David at every turn.  His new lady love, super model Danielle, provides him with a safe haven to escape the reality of his jacked up situation. And an old nemesis comes out of the woodwork for sweet revenge!

Sinful Liaisons is bound to keep readers up into the wee hours of the night with its complex relationships and jaw dropping plot twists. It lives up to the fiery chili pepper on the cover…it’s smokin’ hot!


Book Excerpt: Sinful Liaisons

David had been sitting in his cell for two hours coming down from his high, going over the events that led to his current predicament. He was supposed to call Danielle after that horrid dinner, but he was so wound up after visiting his parents’ house, that was the last thing on his mind. Sitting at the dinner table with them was hell. All

Carol could talk about was work and how rewarding it was, and Lewis would just grunt and mumble about how he should give it a try. Then Carol retired to her room to work on her schedule for the next day and Lewis went into his study for some quiet time.

David knew that meant some quiet time with his friend Jack…Daniels.

Nicole had to clean away the dishes, thanks to Susie quitting. David went to his father and asked him for some money, hoping he was so wasted that he wouldn't have the guts to argue with him. But that was a huge mistake that started World War Three. Lewis was so upset, that Nicole had to calm him down. Thanks to her, Lewis gave him some money – no, Lewis threw him some money like he was a panhandler on the street. Of course, this would have made anyone else leave the money on the floor out of pride, but not him. He bent over and picked it up, cursing under his breath all the way. He had to get out of there.

His mother walked him to the door trying to talk some sense into him. He kissed her on the cheek and left the house. He loved his mother dearly, but the rest of them could take a hike. He knew that his father hated him. He could see it in his eyes. And Carol, the little witch, was no sister of his, always undermining him.

He practically ran from the house. He had to find a way to make some cash because getting it from his family was becoming increasingly difficult, not to mention painful.

He drove straight to a bar and drank himself into oblivion.

( Continued... )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, JC Gardner. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher's written permission. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this promotional excerpt.

Sinful Liaisons available for Kindle and Nook; hard copies can be ordered at the author's website.


Meet the Author
JC Gardner’s passion for writing began at the age of twelve, however, a series of unfortunate events forced her to be a closet writer. After many years, JC is finally able to walk into her destiny. A sequel for Sinful Liaisons is in the works, along with a children’s book and a novelette. By day, JC is a manager for a nonprofit agency; by night, she writes and spends time with her husband and two children. She is also a writing coach and inspirational speaker.
Website: www.booksbyjcg.com

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Genre: Romance, Ssuspense

Excerpt: The Eleventh Commandment by Lutishia Lovely

The Eleventh Commandment
by Lutishia Lovely

The members of Kingdom Citizens Christian Center believe in sharing the spirit of love and generosity with others. Even so, they can't seem to follow the ten commandments, a fact that suggests it just might be time to add rule number eleven. . .

While Frieda Moore has not found her way to the Good Word—she has charted a path to a really good, upscale life. Still, she's not about to let her prominent surgeon husband and baby son get in the way of her good time. The sizzling blessings she's getting from her primed-and-ready 25-year-old lover are too divine to resist. . .until one too many secrets threaten to ruin this bad girl's heaven on earth. . .

Frieda's more sensible cousin, Hope Taylor, was sure she and her spouse, Cy, were solid-in-the-spirit. But now a long-lost love is requesting an act of Christian charity that for Cy could be a second chance at temptation. And when Hope's best friend, Stacy, must decide if a money-making scheme with her ex will fix her rocky marriage, the consequences will have the saved, maybe-saved, and the hardly-saved begging for deliverance . . .

The Eleventh Commandment – An Excerpt

Frieda clicked the locks on her shiny new Lexus LX and slid inside. Ever since she’d purchased the pearl wonder with light tan seats, she’d given to wearing outfits and/or accessories in the same color, often finished off with Louboutin pumps and pearl-colored Gucci shades. Frieda’s picture could have appeared next to the word materialistic, but she didn’t mind. She’d learned how in LA image was everything. She had faked it until she made it and snagged a doctor in the process. Thinking of Gabriel, the hardworking husband and sponsor of the designer duds she wore, caused a tiny tinge of guilt as she turned down Martin Luther King Boulevard and headed toward where she used to live. Passing row after row of modest apartments much like the one she’d rented upon arrival from Kansas City, she reflected on her journey from then till now, and how far she’d come in less than five years. When she’d left the Midwest and a drug-slinging boyfriend to join her cousin and best friend, Hope Taylor, in the City of Angels, all she’d hoped for was a good time. 

And now here she was a wife and mother, living in a tony Westside neighborhood amid five-thousand square feet of luxury, a bank account courtesy of her husband that never boasted less than five figures, credit cards with no limits, a chef, a maid, and a nanny/housekeeper. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. And sometimes she had to do what she was doing now . . . .go slumming for something that money couldn’t buy--a thick piece of sausage.

“Get in here, girl,” a tall brothah said as he opened his apartment door. His island accent was as sexy as his long thick locks, his ebony skin, his straight white teeth, and his washboard abs. “You know me don’t like to wait for ya.”

Two hours later a totally satiated and satisfied Frieda left the hood and headed back toward the Westside, and her appointment at the spa…Her phone rang and as she looked at the dash, she again felt a twinge of guilt. The last thing in the world she ever thought would happen was that she’d go soft. The old Frieda wouldn’t have given two hoots about what anybody else thought or felt. Undoubtedly her cousin would attribute it to the Holy Spirit that Hope swore never left Frieda’s side. I hope that Brothah took a break just now. Otherwise He got an eyeful! Frieda thought it was less likely divine intervention and more probably motherhood that had unearthed the heart she’d buried during her teenage years, fending for herself on Prospect Avenue, perhaps dug up by the three-year-old who had both his parents wrapped around his finger. Or maybe it’s you, she thought, reaching to connect the call. She could honestly say she loved the somewhat stodgy, somewhat geeky doctor whose work was his passion. Even though he bored her to tears.

“Hello.” Frieda turned down the sounds blasting from her speakers as she spoke.

“Where are you?” Gabriel Livingston’s voice was just short of curt. “I’ve called you three times.”

“I’ve been out running errands,” she said.

“Cordella said you’ve been gone for hours.”

That nosy housekeeper needs to mind her own business! Frieda made a mental note to speak to her at the next opportunity. Sistah-girl wouldn’t get fired as long as her tenderoni son was handling that pipe like he did, but his mama was definitely going to have to put her mouth on lock. “After my workout I went to get my weekly massage, then went shopping”—screwing but hey, they both have eight letters and start with an S—“so yeah, I guess I’ve been gone for a while.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Frieda. Spending your afternoons gallivanting while Cordella watches our child. In the two years that she’s worked for us, I’m beginning to think Gabe considers the nanny his mom .”

“Did you call to make me feel bad about taking care of myself?”

Gabriel’s exasperated huff came through the phone. “I called to tell you about a dinner engagement tonight with a prominent couple from DC. An unexpected change of plans has them here for the evening, time enough to make an impression that will hopefully result in a large donation for the new oncology ward.” He told her the name of the restaurant. “Reservations are at eight.”

“Looks like it’s a good thing I’m on my way to the spa,” Frieda purred. “So I can look good and help impress your guests.”

By the time the call ended, Frieda knew that she’d flipped the frown that had undoubtedly marked Gabriel’s face when the call began. She turned up the music again as she thought about how opposite she was from Gabriel in so many ways, and how her vibrant personality was what had drawn him to her like a hummingbird to sugar water. He was often exasperated with her, but a witty quip, flirty phrase, or naughty innuendo could usually brighten his mood. He’s so easy to manipulate. And when it came to fathers, there were none better. That heart that Frieda liked to ignore constricted a bit. She really did love Gabriel. He’d do anything for her, and even more for his namesake, the namesake that every day was looking less and less like the good doctor and more and more like one of the men Frieda used to know.

( Story Continues... )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Lutishia Lovely. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher's written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this promotional excerpt.

About the Author
Lutishia Lovely is an award-winning author of seventeen novels, six of which are romance titles written under her alter-ego pseudo, Zuri Day. In addition to her wildly popular Hallelujah Love Series, Ms. Lovely has a hot new trilogy called "The Business" about a soul food dynasty where delicious drama and sizzling scandal is always on the menu!

Prior to becoming a full-time author, Lutishia enjoyed many different careers. They all, however, had one thing in common - they all were linked into a "world of words". From administrative assistant to radio personality to actor to managing editor and senior writer for a holistic magazine,words have always been the magic that made Lutishia's world go 'round. Probably one of the spins that would most surprise readers is the fact that Lutishia was a rapper! That's right, for a short stint in the 90s, Lutishia was billed as "The Rhaptress" (a combination of a rapper and an actress), and toured with other singers and musicians throughout southern CA. She's happy now to beat out a rhythm on her keyboard...songs in the key of "writer" that she hopes will inspire and entertain!


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The Eleventh Commandment  

Excerpt: The Other Side of Divine by Vanessa Davis Griggs

The Other Side of Divine
by Vanessa Davis Griggs



Can a dream come true be a mixed blessing?

Paris Simmons-Holyfield is finally pregnant with the baby she's dreamed of for so long. There's just ONE complication: she's not sure who the father is.  Meanwhile, after a battle to keep her adopted daughter and an ugly confrontation with Paris's family, Gabrielle Mercedes has finally found love and happiness. But when someone from her past shows up, it is merely another round of trouble.

Darius Connors is still...well, he's still being Darius Connors. As all three navigate the path from sin to redemption, can they forgive their way to the other side?

The Other Side of Divine (Blessed Trinity Series)

Prologue

And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. --Ephesians 6:17

When I tell you how beautiful, you’re not going to believe just how much so. In fact, beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it or give it justice.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m getting ahead of myself here. I hate when someone starts in the middle of a conversation as though you’ve taken part in what was apparently going on in their heads before they began to speak and you have no earthly idea what they’re jabbering on and on about.

To those who don’t know me, my name is Esther Crowe. Those who know and love me best call me Esther, Aunt Esther, or Miss Crowe. A few folks even call me Zion from my days when I had a dance group called the Daughters of Zion many forgotten years ago. The miss part of Miss Crowe is actually a miss statement. There I go again: my attempt at a little humor and playing on words. I love words. For anyone who may have missed it, I was playing on the word misstatement.

I was born Esther Morgan, no middle name. I married into the last name of Crowe. My husband died young (much too young) early into our marriage, from complications of an illness called lupus, to be exact. I don’t like talking much about it. Suffice it to say: I never remarried; I never got around to finding anyone special enough to fill his space.

Then there was that terrible automobile accident that pretty near claimed my life here on earth. I was spared, although barely. For ten years, it was as if I didn’t really exist. But then my nephew, Dr. Zachary Wayne Morgan, stepped into that Chicago nursing facility, bringing with him someone near and dear to my heart: my dear, sweet Gabrielle Mercedes Booker all the way from Birmingham, Alabama and all grown up now.

Gabrielle dropped the last name of Booker and goes by Gabrielle Mercedes. That poor child has indeed lived a hard life. That wretched woman who was given charge over the almost four-year-old at the time was actually the cause of Gabrielle (eight years old when I first met her) and I becoming acquainted. I was out in the community on a summer jog and Aunt Cee-Cee (Mrs. Cecelia Murphy) was out there treating that sweet child like she thought her name was Cinderella (before the glass slippers). I laugh sometimes because Gabrielle has told me on more than one occasion that I was like her very own fairy godmother.

I suppose it’s true what some folks say: What Satan meant for bad, God will use it for good.

I figured out a way to get that precious little girl some joy into her life while she endured being treated even worse than a redheaded stepchild. At least I’d like to believe I brought some good into that child’s life. But Gabrielle could dance, oh my goodness, she could dance! The first time my eyes fell on her running around picking up after those four other children like she was their hired help, I saw the greatness in her. I often described her movements as like the seeds on the feathers of dandelions being carried in the wind: Graceful with a capital G. I saw the greatness in her future.

Gabrielle’s aunt Cee-Cee tried to say I believed Gabrielle was the child I never had. She even said jokingly (or so she claimed after she didn’t get the response she’d apparently hoped for) that I could have Gabrielle outright, for the right price, of course. If I could have gotten Gabrielle without the insult of seeming to buy her, I would have taken that child in a heartbeat, in a heartbeat. After I learned how badly Aunt Cee-Cee had done Gabrielle after my automobile accident—taking the money I’d paid for Gabrielle to attend Juilliard, then throwing her out on the streets with nowhere to go . . .

I don’t even like thinking about that. Why couldn’t I have been here? I wanted so much to see the look on her face when she received the information about Juilliard. But to think: That wretched woman took that money, stole it is what she did. . . . Well, needless to say, Cecelia Murphy’s day of reckoning is coming. And you can believe that. Those that live by the sword shall die by the sword.

* * *

Excerpted from "The Other Side of Divine" by Vanessa Davis Griggs. Copyright © 2013 by Vanessa Davis Griggs. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved.


The Other Side of Divine (Blessed Trinity) by Vanessa Davis Griggs
Purchase from Amazon:   http://amzn.com/0758273606
Available with all booksellers, Walmart, and Target.



Books by Vanessa Davis Griggs
Author of Promises Beyond Jordan, Wings of Grace, Blessed Trinity, Strongholds, If Memory Serves, Practicing What You Preach, Goodness and Mercy,The Truth Is the Light, Ray of Hope, Redeeming Waters, Forever Soul Ties, The Other Side of Goodness, and The Other Side of Dare.  View then all here: http://www.amazon.com/Vanessa-Davis-Griggs/e/B001IQWPA8


Meet the Author
Vanessa Davis Griggs is an accomplished, best-selling, award-winning author with 16 published novels: Destiny Unlimited, The Rose of Jericho, Promises Beyond Jordan, Wings of Grace, Blessed Trinity, Strongholds, If Memory Serves, Practicing What You Preach, Goodness and Mercy, The Truth Is the Light, Ray of Hope, Redeeming Waters, Forever Soul Ties (a Romantic Times 2012 nominee for Best Multicultural Fiction), The Other Side of Goodness, The Other Side of Dare, and newest release, The Other Side of Divine receiving a 4 1/2 Stars review, Top Pick from RT Book Review. Vanessa is a contributor of 10 devotionals in the Sisters in Faith Holy Bible (KJV) released by Thomas Nelson on January 1, 2013.

A former BellSouth Telecommunications employee, Vanessa left 18 years of service to pursue her purpose and passion as an author and motivational speaker. Website. www.VanessaDavisGriggs.com


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Kids Book: Historical Fiction Uses Genealogy to Trace African American and Native

Historical Fiction Uses Genealogy to Trace African American and Native
American Connections. Geared Toward Readers Ages 8 and Up

Learn About America’s Forgotten African-American and Native American Patriots

There were anywhere from 5,000 to 20,000 soldiers of African and Native American descent who served under
General George Washington in the Continental Forces. Fighting for a country under which they had no legal rights was not an easy road to travel. The stunning new picture book Patriots of African Descent in the Revolutionary War: Part 1 is fiction, as told by a family historian to his greatgrandson about their family’s service as African-Americans during the Revolutionary War. Readers ages 8 and older will be fascinated as they read about a nearly forgotten chapter in American history.

Genealogy is a hot topic. We would all love to know our family history, but it’s not always possible. Sometimes we must depend on oral history passed down through the generations, and many times it fosters questions. Some African American families may have Native American connections. This fascinating historical fiction picture book serves as an example of how such connections and disconnections can be made.

The main characters, Jeremy and his great-grandfather, were in the author’s first book, Patriots of African Descent in the Revolutionary War: Part 1.   This second book, More than One Ancestry: Part 2, fills in more of the blanks of where we come from and who we are.  The story is geared for readers ages 8 and older. It was written to inspire research into our family ties and to foster interest in participating in family reunions. What could be more important?


Patriots of African Descent in the Revolutionary War by Marion T. Lane
There were anywhere from 5,000 to 20,000 soldiers of African and Native American descent who served under General George Washington in the Continental Forces.

Fighting for a country under which they had no legal rights was not an easy road to travel. The stunning new picture book Patriots of African Descent in the Revolutionary War: Part 1 is fiction, as told by a family historian to his great-grandson about their family’s service as African-Americans during the Revolutionary War. Readers ages 8 and older will be fascinated as they read about a nearly forgotten chapter in American history.


More Than One Ancestry by Marion T. Lane
In many African American families, there have been discussions about Native American family connections. This historical fiction picture book, More than One Ancestry: Part 2, serves as an example of how such connections and disconnections were made. This informative book was written to inspire research into family ties and to foster interest in family reunions for readers ages 8 and older.


Meet the Author
Marion T. Lane is one of the few African American members of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution, the National Gavel Society and serves as the National President of the Society of Descendants of Washington’s Army at Valley Forge. In addition, this retired public school educator is a Board member of the Friends of Valley Forge National Historical Park.

To follow us on Twitter:   https://twitter.com/SBPRA
To follow us on Facebook:   http://tinyurl.com/2cwerv7



Purchase books here:   http://sbpra.com/mariontlane
The books are also available at Amazon.com or BarnesAndNoble.com

Excerpt: The Red Order by Cerece Rennie Murphy

The Red Order by Cerece Rennie Murphy
Order of the Seers Trilogy - Book 2

The quest to control the power of the Seers continues. After successfully destroying the Guild’s Purification Center in Chicago, The Lost Seers, led by Joel Akida and Lilli Knight, embark upon a world-wide mission to save their kind from the tyranny of the Guild and unveil their greatest weapon – The Restoration Project. Developed in secret, The Restoration Project has the potential to awaken the supernatural ability within every man, woman, and child on earth and bring down the very foundation of the Guild’s power and authority.

But the Guild has other plans. Driven by the necessity for control, Crane Le Dieu creates The Red Order, a new league of clairvoyants whose sole purpose is to hunt down and annihilate the Lost Seers. Without the Guild’s mind-controlling drugs, The Red Order is able to develop its gifts far beyond the capacity to see the future, honing their skills to become the ultimate threat against the Lost Seers. But the question remains – will the power of The Red Order be enough to defeat them?

The Red Order continues the epic battle for freedom which began in Order of the Seers, revealing the secret motives behind an organization that exists to exploit and a renegade movement that seeks to usher in the next phase in human evolution.


Order of the Seers Book Reviews 
"With masterful storytelling and a brilliant plot that holds you in suspense from page-to-page, Order Of The Seers, is a well-written, gripping tale." – Trice Hickman, Bestselling Author of, Playing the Hand You're Dealt

“Order of the Seers is an interesting take to just what our world might be like with people who could see the future, complete with action, romance and thrills that will appeal to science fiction fans of supernatural powers. I look forward to reading the sequel to see what happens next.” – S.J. Wist, Author of The Dragon Aster Trilogy


Excerpt from The Red Order by Cerece Rennie Murphy
After a surprise defeat in Chicago, the Guild creates The Red Order, unleashing a new weapon against those who dare to challenge their authority. To survive, a band of renegade Seers, led by Joel Akida and Lilli Knight, must fight against their own kind to protect a truth so powerful that it will destroy the very foundation upon which the Guild is built. 

Chapter 1 Excerpt: The Defeated 

The fact that Crane Le Dieu had barely escaped with his life intact less than ten hours ago did nothing to humble his demeanor as he stormed out of the steel-glass elevator, as bold and arrogant as always.

“You!” Crane shouted, pointing his finger at the middle-aged Asian woman who sat at the far side of the room. “Did you hear what happened? How could you let this happen?”

As he cut across the sea of cluttered work stations that made up the office level of the Guild’s lead research facility in Geneva, Dr. Ming Jhu seemed all but oblivious to Crane’s approach. In contrast to the crackling tension in the room, Ming looked utterly detached as she took a long draw from her cigarette and stared at the email message on her laptop. As head of Research and Development, it was bad form for her to just be sitting there, so indifferent to her superior while the other scientists around her froze in terror at Crane’s presence. But she’d been like this for at least an hour. Even with the Guild’s lockdown protocol, which had them sequestered in their offices at 11 o’clock at night, Crane bursting into their facility yelling demands at her was nothing new. What felt refreshing was that for the first time, Ming didn’t give a damn.

It would have been nice, she thought, to have had this objectivity twenty years ago, before she had bartered her life away while most of her colleagues were being killed. In the early days of the International Science Team’s research on Seers, Eli Tanner, Gerard Morrow, Willem Knight, Neeva Patel, Hasaam Al Attar, and the other lead scientists had been such good mentors to her that she had considered them family, or so she thought, before she choose self-preservation and advancement over them. 

By the time the Guild had asked for her allegiance, she knew Willem Knight and Gerard Morrow were dead because of their refusal to cooperate with the Guild’s new agenda to catalog and harness new Seers against their will. Back then, she was just another eager, twenty-nine year old junior researcher, but she had shown tremendous promise, and the Guild made their interest in her known as soon as it was clear that most of the Seer Project’s lead scientists would need to be replaced. With the gift of hindsight and twenty-three years of experience behind her, Ming could almost laugh now at the fact that she had been naïve enough to be more flattered than frightened when Crane came to her apartment to recruit her. It was only later that she learned how much blind ambition and stupidity had in common.

But Ming’s desire for advancement wasn’t the only thing that kept her with the Guild. She had also just met Thea Case and was only starting to learn what it meant to find the one person you would do anything for. In the years that followed, Thea made most of the despicable things Ming had done bearable, if not quite worth it. The irony of what Ming now knew made the rims of her weary eyes burn with the need to cry, but she refused to do that here. Instead, she squinted at her computer screen while flicking the ash from her unfiltered Dunhill on the floor before taking another long deep drag. And it’s all for nothing now. It’s all for nothing, she thought as she exhaled the smoke from her cigarette and read the email in front of her for the 47th time.

M – Got your message and saw the news about the lockdown. Wish I could have told you this in person, but since I don’t know when you’ll be home, I think it’s better to get this out now. Just came from Dr. William’s office. I’ve gone into stage four of my cancer. There’s nothing left to do. I think it’s time to start letting go.
Love,
Thea

“Do you hear me talking to you? Are you suddenly deaf? I know you’ve heard what happened in Chicago. Andreas and I were lucky to escape with our lives!” Though Crane was now standing directly behind Ming, his voice had not descended one octave from when he began screaming at her from across the room.

“Pity,” he heard Ming say softly.

“Excuse me?” Crane sneered. He wasn’t sure which part of what he said made her respond so inappropriately, but the insinuation of indifference only made him angrier.

He reached for the back of her chair and spun her around with such force she would have made a complete 360-degree turn if she hadn’t jammed the left 3” heel of her boot into his foot.

When she finally looked up to meet his gaze, she noted that he looked more surprised than in pain, as if he really thought that she had, for a moment, gone deaf.

Disgusted, Ming flicked her ash in Crane’s direction before taking another drag. Though she had heard about the events in Chicago, she had received the news shortly after Thea’s email and as a result, it fell into the same category as Crane’s presence – nothing she cared about anymore. The calmness she felt now was in sharp contrast to her demeanor two hours ago when she’d first received Thea’s email.

No one, including Crane, moved a muscle as she exhaled her smoke and finally responded to his question.

“I said, what a pity you escaped with your life.”

Watching the shock flash-freeze Crane’s entire expression was the best present she’d received all year. Ming settled back in her chair to enjoy it, letting a satisfied smirk spread across her full, heart-shaped face.

Recovering slowly from Ming’s brazenness, Crane could not help but smile as he saw the hate Ming had always tried to hide from him on full display. While he preferred fear, hate from those he considered to be truly powerless was also something he enjoyed, and his mood lightened at the thought of watching Ming attempt to spar with him. Clearing his throat, Crane rearranged his amusement into a stern expression.

“You failed,” he began. “You should have known about their true potential. It was your job.”

“Oooh,” Ming responded, as her eyes went wide with mock curiosity, “Now you want to know about potential. That’s funny. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. We don’t do science here,” she explained calmly with a wave of her hand around the room. “We only do what you tell us. So what can I say? I guess we’re all just as limited as your imagination.”

Crane hadn’t expected her to cut to the chase so quickly, to turn the tables and blame him for what happened. His enjoyment was gone as quickly as it came and Ming knew it. She arched her brow in anticipation of his response.

“What’s gotten into you? You know better than to test me.” Crane bent down toward her slightly and lowered his voice to a hiss before adding, “I will have her ki-“

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing,” she interrupted. “I hear you. I really do.”

Ming turned from him and put out her cigarette on the edge of her desk while keeping her heel firmly dug into what she believed was his big toe. Why isn’t this hurting him, she wondered in passing as she turned back to Crane with a new cigarette dangling from her lips and a matchbook in her hand.

“Except, you’re a little late – which is unusual for you, I’ll admit,” she began while looking down to light her cigarette. “This just hasn’t been your week.”

The corners of Crane’s eyes trembled with the effort it took for him to refrain from reaching out and strangling her where she sat. Though she was focused on lighting up her new-old habit, Ming didn’t miss the twitching of his hands as he waited for her to finish. It made her proud to see him so out of control. It had been a long time since she’d had this much power over anything.

Nodding her understanding of his restraint, she continued. “You see, Thea is dying. I got the email two hours ago,” she paused to fully exhale before adding, “So there literally is no one left for you to kill except me, and as you can see, I’m suddenly feeling up for a fight.”

Crane responded with a loud and mirthless laugh. Ming fought to keep her back straight as the ice-cold sound made its way down her spine. There is nothing more he can take from me, she reminded herself as she continued to smoke her cigarette with a slightly less than steady hand.

When his laughter finally died down, Crane returned his gaze to Ming and smiled at her, almost lovingly. “Ming,” he cooed, “You’re always so articulate. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

And in less time than it took for Ming to pull the cigarette she had just inhaled from her lips, Crane was over her like the pitch black cover of night as he grabbed the hand that held her cigarette. Though he was not a particularly large man, Ming was shocked that he still managed to block out all the light from the overhead flood lamps and ceiling-to-wall reflective windows that were meant to inspire greatness from the scientists that worked there. But Ming couldn’t see any of her colleagues as they stood by passively, couldn’t see anything beyond the charcoal of his herringbone suit as he pushed her chair against the edge of her desk while his face, smooth and pallid, hovered close enough for her to smell the 100 year-old scotch he’d consumed an hour ago.

“And I do like you, Ming, but not enough to keep you alive if you’re not willing to cooperate,” he said softly. The dulcet tones of his voice contrasted sharply with his vise grip on her left wrist and hand. Ming turned slightly toward her twisted fingers to see her cigarette drop red ash on the backside of his hand. He didn’t flinch.

Even through the pain in her hand, her inquisitive mind could not shut down. Something is wrong here, she thought. Her heel was still buried in the fine leather of his shoe and the flesh of his big toe and he had yet to react to it.

By the way he shifted the bones in her hand, she knew he wanted her to scream. But as frightened as she was, she knew she was stronger than the breaking of her wrist. Though her courage had waned, her resolve held firm. Not trusting her voice to remain steady, Ming did the only thing she could as she forced her gaze upwards to meet Crane’s and exhaled the smoke she’d been holding in her lungs into his face.

If she could have predicted what would happen next, she would have tried to hold her breath forever. But by the time Crane leaned in closer, it was too late. She watched in growing horror as Crane’s eyes fluttered closed just before he leaned into the smoke she’d exhaled, and breathed in as if savoring a lover’s caress. The intimacy of the gesture made her stomach spasm with revulsion. When Crane opened his eyes to meet hers, he was pleased to find the fear he’d been waiting for. He finally had her attention.

“I love the taste of something burning,” he whispered, just before Andreas Menten interrupted them.

( Continued... )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Cerece Rennie Murphy. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher's written permission. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this promotional excerpt.



The Red Order by Cerece Rennie Murphy
Science Fiction; supernatural powers, conspiracy, spiritual development and romantic love
Available book formats: Paperback, Kindle, Nook, iTunes, and Sony Kobo


Purchase Books by Cerece Rennie Murphy

The Red Order - http://www.amazon.com/Red-Order-Cerece-Rennie-Murphy/dp/0985621028

Order of the Seers - http://www.amazon.com/Order-Seers-Cerece-Rennie-Murphy/dp/0985621001



About the Author
Cerece Rennie Murphy lives and writes just outside of her hometown of Washington, DC. In addition to completing the Order of the Seers trilogy, Mrs.  Murphy is also developing a children’s book series titled Enchanted: 5 Tales of Magic in the Everyday and a book on understanding marriage/relationship advice for single women entitled More than the Ring. To learn more about the author and her upcoming projects, visit her website at www.crmurphybooks.com 

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The Seth St. James Series by Kiffany Dugger

The Seth St. James Series
by Kiffany Dugger

 

The Green Eyed Butterfly by Kiffany Dugger

Unlocking the Mystery...
People have always been intrigued by Seth St. James, especially her green eyes. After all, she looks nothing like the woman who raised her. But Seth's past is cloaked in mystery. No one knows about the tragic accident that left eight-year-old Seth an orphan in the care of her surrogate grandmother, Madelyn. Together the two have worked hard to keep what really happened that fateful night a secret.

Windows to the Soul...
Twenty years after that mysterious accident, Seth has worked even harder to lead a normal life. And she seems to have put the past behind her. But a visit from a stranger jolts her back to the night her family was killed and the memories send her world spiraling out of control. As she struggles to hang on to her sanity, Seth sets out to uncover the truth surrounding that horrible night. It's not long before she discovers life-changing details about her family's sordid past and the man who may have murdered them all – a man she was learning to love. Filled with deception, sensuality, and suspense, The Green Eyed Butterfly will take you on a transforming journey and just when you think you know what's going on...you'll be forced to think again!


Twisted Truth: The Legend of Seth St. James by Kiffany Dugger

A Family Affair...
Almost two years after tracking down and murdering the men that destroyed her family, Seth St. James is finally able to pick up the pieces of her broken life. Enjoying motherhood and wedded bliss, Seth's husband Alex is tragically killed in a car accident. Still mourning the loss of her husband, a knock at the door reveals yet another illegitimate sibling. Haunted by his own past, Seth's new brother has one request. He needs Seth to help him find out what happened the night his mother was killed by their father over twenty years ago.

Uncovering the Truth One Lie at a Time…
Trying to help her brother discover the truth about his mother, Seth uncovers more skeletons from the past. A three a.m. phone call from a familiar stranger sends Seth out into the dead of night to uncover a body that was buried in her backyard more than two decades prior. Uncovering the body turns Seth's life upside down as she becomes the prey instead of the hunter. With few options, she must turn to her ex-lover and the possible "real" father of her child to help her take on the notorious gangster who has a price on her head. 

Forced into hiding Seth struggles with being the ruthless killer that she knows lives inside her or disappearing forever to protect her family. Once again, Seth St. James takes you on a wild ride as she uncovers the twisted truth one lie at a time! Filled with deception, sensuality, and suspense, Twisted Truth will take you on a transforming journey and just when you think you know what's going on...you'll be forced to think again!


Meet the Author
Multi-talented entrepreneur, best-selling author, speaker, and former radio personality Kiffany Dugger’s masterfully written debut novel, “The Green Eyed Butterfly”, has kept readers up all night navigating through the life of the sexy and mysterious Seth St. James. Boosting rave reviews and motivating readers to call in sick just to see what happens next, “The Green Eyed Butterfly” is a must read. With the release of the long awaited sequel, “Twisted Truth” the Seth St. James series has staked its claim as a highly coveted "must have" among adult fiction.

Kiffany's exceptional talent for writing multi-genre fiction has christened her as one of the greatest storytellers. Her stories will keep your pulse racing and the pages turning with excitement and anticipation.  Kiffany Dugger Website: www.kiffanydugger.com



Books by Kiffany Dugger

http://www.amazon.com/Kiffany-Dugger/e/B002UERPXO



The Green-Eyed Butterfly by Kiffany Dugger 
Twisted Truth (The Seth St. James Series) by Kiffany Dugger 

Follow Kiffany on Twitter:   https://twitter.com/kiffanydugger 

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The Returned by Jason Mott

The Returned by Jason Mott 

"In his exceptional debut novel, poet Mott brings drama, pathos, joy, horror, and redemption to a riveting tale." -Publishers Weekly, starred review


"Jacob was time out of sync, time more perfect than it had been. He was life the way it was supposed to be all those years ago. That's what all the Returned were."

Harold and Lucille Hargrave's lives have been both joyful and sorrowful in the decades since their only son, Jacob, died tragically at his eighth birthday party in 1966. In their old age they've settled comfortably into life without him, their wounds tempered through the grace of time…. Until one day Jacob mysteriously appears on their doorstep—flesh and blood, their sweet, precocious child, still eight years old.

All over the world people's loved ones are returning from beyond. No one knows how or why this is happening, whether it's a miracle or a sign of the end. Not even Harold and Lucille can agree on whether the boy is real or a wondrous imitation, but one thing they know for sure: he's their son. As chaos erupts around the globe, the newly reunited Hargrave family finds itself at the center of a community on the brink of collapse, forced to navigate a mysterious new reality and a conflict that threatens to unravel the very meaning of what it is to be human.

With spare, elegant prose and searing emotional depth, award-winning poet Jason Mott explores timeless questions of faith and morality, love and responsibility. A spellbinding and stunning debut, The Returned is an unforgettable story that marks the arrival of an important new voice in contemporary fiction.

Meet the Author
Jason Mott lives in southeastern North Carolina. He has a BFA in Fiction and an MFA in Poetry, both from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. His poetry and fiction has appeared in various journals such as Prick of the Spindle, The Thomas Wolfe Review, The Kakalak Anthology of Carolina Poets, Measure and Chautauqua. He was nominated for a 2009 Pushcart Prize award.

He is the author of two poetry collections: We Call This Thing Between Us Love and "...hide behind me..." The Returned is his first novel.  The Returned has also been optioned by Brad Pitt's production company, Plan B, in association with Brillstein Entertainment and ABC. The pilot is currently being filmed.  Visit the author's website for more information: http://jasonmottauthor.com


Read the PW Article: Conversation With Jason Mott: How the Idea for the Apocalypse Started 


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Books by Jason Mott

Prevail: Poems on Life, Love, and Politics by BuddahDesmond

Prevail: Poems on Life, Love, and Politics 
by BuddahDesmond

Quote: We never know what’s coming to us in this life, but we do know that if we get through it—whatever it is—we will be better, stronger, and wiser. No matter what, we know we must prevail. ~ BuddahDesmond

Prevail: Poems on Life, Love, and Politics presents an eye-opening collection of poetry inspired by personal experiences, current events, history, culture, and social issues. This collection provides a glimpse into the mind of BuddahDesmond as he investigates our contemporary world. Written over the course of the last decade, these poems serve as an introduction to BuddahDesmond’s range, voice, and style.

Prevail is divided into three sections—life, love, and politics, each of which provides the author with an opportunity to thoroughly dissect his thoughts and feelings on each topic. “Life” challenges the notion of living happily ever after, considers the struggles of dysfunctional families, and shares the perspective of a laggard in a high-tech world. “Love” discusses the power of real, true love, the up and downs of relationships, and the difficulty finding a mate in the technosexual age. “Politics” explores the power of rhetoric and the underhanded maneuvering of politicians, as well as providing perspectives on many contemporary issues.  In this new collection, BuddahDesmond seeks to offer an underlying message of strength, persistence, and triumph.


Prevail Excerpt  

Past, Present, and Future

I often wonder if our ancestors are pleased with our progress.
Looking down on us, would they hold their heads high in praise or bow them down in shame?
Would they feel that everything they fought for was in vain?
Would they feel we are living up to the legacy they’ve left behind?
It’s a valid question, considering the disparities within our community.
There are disconnects between generations and classes,
Between faith and moral values,
Between the revolutionary and the righteous,
Between traditional and unconventional,
Between family and community.
Sometimes it seems like we are ghosts of what we were before.
The shades of greatness remain,
But the people have yet to figure out how to channel its power.
All is not lost, yet not all is fully realized.

I hope that our ancestors have not given up on us, the way we have given up on each other.
I hope they feel that we all can come together to believe and dream and fight to win again,
Because it’s there—
It never left.
We were born to survive in even the bleakest situations.
There’s still time to mobilize.
There’s still hope and faith that we can get it together,
and bring everyone to the same place again.

We just can’t forget about what was.
We can’t forget about who fought the many battles and won.
We can’t forget about our ancestors.
We must think of them
Because they are why we are here,
And why we must go on.


( Continued... )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author/poet, BuddahDesmond. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher's written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this promotional excerpt.

Meet the Author
BuddahDesmond is a poet who writes about the human condition in a way that is edgy, raw, and, at times, unconventional. His writing has appeared in The Shades of Autumn, The Reporter, Pictures & Frames Magazine, Gracies Dinnertime Theatre, MOOV Magazine, and MUSED Magazine Online. He’s also a singer, artist, cook, voice actor, and user experience (UX) professional. Prevail: Poems on Life, Love, and Politics is his first volume of poetry. He currently resides in Alexandria, VA with his partner.

Purchase Prevail: Poems on Life, Love, and Politics
Genre: Poetry;  Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/11VnlEE

Francis Ray's Legacy Lives On

Francis Ray's  Legacy Lives On

Francis Ray has finished her life chapter here, now she begins her eternal series! 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Francis Ray was a native Texan and lived in Dallas. A graduate of Texas Woman’s University. In 1999 and 2000 she was nominated for Texas Woman’s University Distinguished Alumni Award. She was honored to give the 2010 winter commencement address. Ms. Ray’s titles consistently make bestseller’s lists such as Blackboard and Essence Magazine. INCOGNITO, her sixth title, was the first made-for-TV movie for BET.  She has written fifty-four titles to date, view here.  Print the full listing of her work and series, by clicking here now. 

Awards include Romantic Times Career Achievement, EMMA, The Golden Pen, The Atlantic Choice, and Borders 2008 Romance Award for Bestselling Multicultural Romance. IF YOU WERE MY MAN was selected as Written magazine Book of the Year.THE TURNING POINT, her first mainstream, was a finalist for the prestigious HOLT Medallion Award.

At the release event for THE TURNING POINT in May 2001, she established The Turning Point Legal Fund to assist women of domestic violence to help restructure their lives. Her second mainstream, I KNOW WHO HOLDS TOMORROW, May 2002, made the bestseller’s list of The Dallas Morning News, Blackboard, Black Expressions Book Club, and Essence Magazine. The book was one of five titles selected as Book Club Favorites for Black Issues Book Review Best of 2002.SOMEBODY’S KNOCKING AT MY DOOR, her third mainstream, was released May 2003 and made bestseller’s lists across the country.

ROCKIN’ AROUND THAT CHRISTMAS TREE, a holiday collaboration with Donna Hill, came out in November 2003. Other books include SOMEONE TO LOVE ME December 2003, TROUBLE DON’T LAST ALWAYS January 2004, FIRST TOUCH February 2004, WHOLE LOTTA LOVE February 2004, LOVE AT LEO’S July 2004, and THE FALCON SAGA August 2004. Her fourth mainstream, LIKE THE FIRST TIME, was released in May 2004 and also made the Essence bestseller’s list. January 2005 continued the Living Large stories, a concept of Ms. Ray’s of fashionable and fabulous full-figured women with BIG GIRLS DON’T CRY.

February 2005 was a major personal triumph with the release of her first Christian fiction, Then Sings My Soul, in a trade anthology from Harlequin/Steeple Hill titled HOW SWEET THE SOUND. March 2005 saw the release of the long-awaited continuation of The Graysons of New Mexico series with YOU AND NO OTHER. Her fifth mainstream and thirtieth title, ANY RICH MAN WILL DO, was released October 2005 and made the Essence list two months in a row. In 2005 two of Ms. Ray’s titles, SOMEONE TO LOVE ME and I KNOW WHO HOLDS TOMORROW were released in hard cover with large print by Thorndike.

In 2006 TROUBLE DON’T LAST ALWAYS, HOW SWEET THE SOUND, and ANY RICH MAN WILL DO were also selected by Thorndike as well.IN ANOTHER MAN’S BED, her sixth mainstream and Book #3 of the Invincible Women Series was released February 2007. NOT EVEN IF YOU BEGGED — Book #4 in the series came out January 2008 and made #3 on Essence Magazine‘s bestseller’s list.IRRESISTIBLE YOU — Book #4 of the Graysons of New Mexico — hit stores March 2007. Book #5 — ONLY YOU — was released October 2007. THE WAY YOU LOVE ME is Book # 1 of the new and exciting Grayson Friends Series and was released August 2008. 

Book #2 of the series, NOBODY BUT YOU, hit stores March 2009 and promptly made the New York Times and USA Today bestseller’s list. ONE NIGHT WITH YOU, Book #3 was scheduled for November 03, 2009. Leading off 2010 was IF YOU WERE MY MAN, book # 6 in the Invincible Women series. March 30th saw the reissue readers have clamored for, FOREVER YOURS, book # 1 of the Taggart series.

A brand new release, IT HAD TO BE YOU, book # 4 in the Grayson Friends series, hits bookstores April 27, 2010. ONLY HERS, book # 2 in the Taggart series came out August 2nd. Closing out the year on December 7th was the reissue of HEART OF THE FALCON, book # 1 of the Falcon series. 

2011 was just as exciting. BREAK EVERY RULE, book # 2 of the Falcon series, hit stores March 29th. Was released on June 21st are UNDENIABLE and TWICE THE TEMPTATION, Ms. Ray’s first short story collection. TROUBLE DON’T LAST ALWAYS hit stores November 1st. The Wish, a holiday ebook will be released November 29, 2011.

In 2012, the KISS SERIES was launched with SEDUCTIVE KISS, WITH A KISS  and A DANGEROUS KISS closed the series on  June 26, 2012. She had another awesome title, WHEN MORNING COMES, to hit stores on June 5, 2012. Riveting emotion and charismatic scenes made Ms. Ray's books captivating year after year! 

Ms. Francis Ray will have five titles released in 2013. First up was her 50th book ALL I EVER WANTED, February 26, 2013, then a eBook ALL OF MY LOVE, May 14, 2013.  Next is AFTER THE DAWN, June 18, 2013. ALL THAT I NEED, it hit stores July 2, 2013.  She will end the year with one of the most requested incredible men in the Graysons series, Rio Sanchez in ALL THAT I DESIRE, October 29, 2013.


Francis Ray was a trailblazer in the romance world. We will all miss her sweet soul and special style of writing. She was a class act in every sense of the word. She left an outstanding legacy of work. Visit her website to view all of her books and to read excerpts: www.francisray.com.  Print the full listing of her work and series, by clicking here now.  Share the list with friends on FB by going to my comments here.

READ MORE HERE

 

 

Excerpt: All That I Need by Francis Ray

All That I Need by Francis Ray



Grayson Friends Series

In bestselling author Francis Ray’s latest Grayson Friends novel, two lost souls come together to discover what matters most of all. Find out what happens when a self-made man meets a self-possessed woman...

LOVE COMES WITH NO GUARANTEE…
Lance Saxton is a self-made man who enjoys every moment of his success. Running an auction house allows him to manage his own time and travel the world on a moment’s notice—so why rush to settle down? The question answers itself…until he crosses paths with a beautiful, spirited travel writer who makes him second-guess his sense of independence—and leaves him wanting more.


BUT IT’S ALWAYS WORTH THE RISK…
What’s love got to do with it? Fallon Marshall is at the peak of her career as a journalist. Any story she wants she can get. So when she hears about an auction being held at a fabled old estate in Santa Fe, New Mexico, off she goes…only to meet a man who makes her question her priorities. Maybe it’s time for Fallon to stop running away in search of adventure…and just fall into Lance’s arms?


READ AN EXCERPT

Chapter 1


Fallon Nicole Marshall had always considered herself cool under pressure. After all, she was a well-respected travel writer for some of the top magazines in the country. She routinely dealt with tight deadlines, demanding editors, computer glitches and uncooperative people. She’d baked in 107 degrees, frozen in six below to get a story and just the right photographs. She had the patience of Job and the tenacity of a terrier. Nothing – if you didn’t consider her need for two cups of coffee each morning – got the best of her anymore. She’d been there, done that.

Or so she’d mistakenly thought.

Slowing down on the highway, Fallon put on her signal and turned her rental onto the paved road three miles out of Santa Fe. Her slim fingers flexed on the steering wheel of the late model Taurus. She was only marginally pleased that they weren’t damp with perspiration. She might be a bit nervous about obtaining information for her next story, but at least she wasn’t showing her frayed nerves on meeting Lance Saxton again.

It was perfectly understandable that she felt apprehensive – after all, she had been, well, rather abrupt to Lance Saxton two weeks ago when they’d first met. She’d practically accused him of being a thief and walked away from him in self-righteous indignation. Although he had to share some of the blame for that crack about “not handling their financial responsibilities correctly,” she had to take her share as well.

She freely admitted that since her mother was swindled by the unscrupulous owner of an auction house, and Lance owned an auction house, she had judged quickly and harshly.

And she’d been wrong.

She hadn’t discovered her mistake until recently. Naomi Reese, her friend and neighbor, had insisted Fallon read an article about Lance in Fortune magazine. Fallon had turned up her nose and ignored the sudden thump of her heart on seeing a picture of Lance in an expensive navy pin-striped suit standing in front of Saxton Auction House but she’d read the article.

In less than a minute she’d known she’d been wrong. She’d handed the magazine back to Naomi, thanked her and gone home, telling herself if the opportunity ever presented itself, she’d apologize, and fully aware that she wasn’t going to initiate the contact. That changed a few days ago.


Now she needed Lance Saxton to gain access to the Yates’ home for the article she planned to write. He might toss her out; then again, he might not. There was only one way to find out.

Moments later the red barrel roof of a house came into view, then as she rounded a curve she saw the sprawling Yates house. She slowed and came to a complete stop. It was simply beautiful with the afternoon sun shining on the roof and the adobe exterior. She could easily imagine coming home from work or a trip and catching the first glimpse of the house. She didn’t even live there and yet she felt a sort of calming peace. One day she’d have a house, family, but for now she enjoyed her job. She loved to travel and was paid well to visit and write about some of the most exciting places in the world.

The last thought had her squaring her shoulders. She was good at what she did. Nothing had ever stopped her in the past, and she wouldn’t allow Lance Saxton to be the first.

Putting the car into motion she continued down the mile-long road and parked on the circular driveway in front of the massive red double doors, reasoning if Lance threw her out, she wouldn’t have far to go to her car. Getting out, she again studied the sprawling two-story house.

The home was originally built in the 1920s by oil mogul Thaddeus Yates. He liked the Southwest and chose Santa Fe as his base when he wanted to relax and get away from Lubbock, Texas. After his death, his only child and daughter, Colleen, expanded the six thousand square foot home another five thousand square feet to include a loggia and pool house. Her son did more renovation on the house plus extensive landscaping, turning the usually parched grounds of the area into a verdant paradise with lush green grass and a rainbow hue of flowers.

Fallon hadn’t seen grass so lush since she’d left her hometown of Austin four months ago. She was tempted to slip off her sandals and let the grass tickle her toes. She refrained. All she needed was for Lance to see her and think she was a nut case. Still, with less than twelve inches of rain yearly in Santa Fe, it would cost a small fortune to maintain the grounds.

Through research she’d learned that the single male heir and last owner had died six months ago from injuries sustained in a skiing accident. Banks sometimes paid for minor upkeep, but nothing more.

Fallon realized she was stalling, and with good reason. She wasn’t looking forward to ringing the doorbell and meeting Lance Saxton again. She didn’t mind admitting she was wrong so much as she didn’t like the idea of making that admission to a man she had a mild attraction to. She’d like to think he’d caught her at a weak moment, but that would be a lie. She traveled so much she didn’t have time for a relationship, and she valued herself too much to have meaningless affairs.

Yet, her girlie antenna had zinged the instant she looked into Lance’s midnight black eyes. He had the “Y” yummy factor in spades. At least six-feet-four in sinful jeans and a white polo that delineated hard muscles, she was almost fantasizing about the naughty things he could whisper in her ear – until she learned what he did for a living. And went as cold as an iceberg on the man.

Sighing, Fallon removed her camera from the case, looped the strap around her neck and grabbed her notebook. Standing there wouldn’t get the job done. Closing the car door, she followed the paved path to the wide double doors, all the time telling herself that this was a story like all the hundreds, probably thousands, she’d written in the past.

As a travel writer it was her job to point out the new and unusual, the best places to make that vacation or staycation exciting, fun and memorable. Reading about the auction in the newspaper had given her an idea for a story – that of leaving time on the schedule for something unexpected, like an auction.

The Yates home was a piece of history that would soon be gone….just as her family’s heirlooms and antiques were gone. She’d never forgive the owner of the auction house who cheated her mother and made their lives miserable when she was seventeen, but she’d been wrong to lump Lance with the crook.

The Yates possessions weren’t going to be low-balled as theirs had been. Lance Saxton, although new to the auction scene, had a sterling reputation as a savvy businessman with a Midas touch. Whatever he touched succeeded in spades. The Yates auction would only be his second in the three months since he’d opened Saxton Auction House. The other had been in Tucson where his office was located, and hugely successful. The retired movie star’s possessions had sold out after the second day of the four-day sale.

Fallon realized she was stalling. Again. She hadn’t called for an appointment. She honestly hadn’t known what to say. Hey, I’m sorry I accused you of being a thief, but I have this great idea for a story and two editors are interested so let’s forget about our first meeting. If the positions were reversed, she would have thrown him out. She had a bit of a temper – which had gotten her into this mess.

So, she’d taken the coward’s way and asked his cousin, Richard Youngblood, if he thought Lance would be at the Yates house working. Richard had been at his fiancé Naomi’s apartment that morning eating breakfast and discussing wedding plans. They were as giddy as teenagers and so much in love. Fallon was happy for both of them, especially after what Naomi had gone through.

Declining the offer of breakfast, Fallon had gone back to her place next door to leave them alone. Or as much as possible with Naomi’s five-year-old daughter Kayla with them. Neither Richard nor Naomi seemed to mind. That had been hours ago. It was almost two. It had taken Fallon this long to work up the courage to drive out.

Blowing out a breath, Fallon rang the doorbell.

In the small library of the Yates house that Lance Saxton had taken for his office, he slowly lifted his head when he heard the doorbell. He’d been waiting for the sound since Richard called that morning to tell him that Fallon had asked if he would be there. To Richard’s “Don’t blow your second chance” Lance had said nothing.

Since Lance didn’t have any other appointments and he wasn’t expecting any deliveries, he reasoned it was Fallon Marshall. His hand flexed on the pen in his hand. It didn’t take much to visualize the stunning woman with long curly hair, bedroom brown eyes, model cheekbones and lips to drive a man crazy. For some reason – perhaps because Richard was in such a great mood and Lance could tell his cousin was finally interested in a woman – the moment they’d met, Lance had found himself attracted to Fallon.

It was the first time in months he’d had more than a passing interest in a woman. He’d honestly thought he had written women off except for the occasional ones he took to bed. It was purely physical for both of them; easily had and easier forgotten.

The chime came again. This was the housekeeper’s half-day off. The people he’d hired to help catalog the house contents for the auction had driven into town for a late lunch. There was no one there but him. If he didn’t answer, she’d leave and he wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting his long ago promise of steering clear of women he couldn’t easily walk away from. Yet, he found himself coming to his feet and leaving the study. Fallon was just a woman.

Opening the front door, he had to revise his earlier thought about Fallon. She was stunning in a raspberry knit top and white walking shorts. Her eyes were just as captivating as before, her mouth just as tempting. His hand clamped on the door knob as they continued to stare at each other. He wouldn’t be the first to speak. She had called him a thief.

“Hello, Lance. I guess you’re surprised to see me.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Fallon ran her tongue over lips he’d dreamed about before saying, “I’m not sure if you remember or not, but I’m a travel writer.”

Since his mouth was dry, he simply nodded. Fallon was too much of a temptation. As soon as possible he was sending her on her way.

“I read about this place and the auction you’re having. I came up with the idea for an article.” She glanced around the yard. “This house might not be on the historical society’s register, but it’s has a lot of history that will be lost once the auction is over. I’d like to preserve that.”

“By doing a story,” he said, unable to keep the derision out of his voice. Another person who wanted to profit from the misfortune of others. And she’d thought him heartless.

Her eyes narrowed briefly, then she shifted back to him, inadvertently making her breasts in the knit top jut forward. Lance gritted his teeth and opened his mouth to tell her goodbye, but she finally spoke.

“Not just a story. I want to bring the history of the house and the people who lived here to life. I also want to let readers know that it’s all right not to plan every second of a vacation. Wonderful opportunities like this auction might present itself. I’ve done a bit of research on the house already.”

“Don’t you think that was a bit premature?” he asked, glad his voice was normal even if his heart rate wasn’t.

“Yes, but knowledge is never wasted.” She stepped back and looked up at the window overhead. “Do you know that some of the timber in this house came from Yates’ grandparents’ property in Louisiana? He was a bit of a sentimentalist.” She sent Lance a quick grin. “The stained glass in the window overhead is from Paris and the chandelier in the living room is Waterford. They’re his wife’s selections.”

“Women like the finer things.” He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Her brow arched. “So do men. Thaddeus spared no expense to build this house. It took three years. His daughter expanded it even more. From the little I was able to find, she doted on her son and wanted the house to last for generations. It’s a shame that her dreams died with him.” Fallon gave him her full attention, her expression so heartrending he had to lock his knees to keep from reaching out to comfort her. “It would be wonderful if that didn’t happen, if the family history could be preserved, and be the impetus for other family dreams and legacies.”

His gaze narrowed on her. So, she wasn’t just beautiful and brassy. It was rare to meet someone not in the business who really understood the value and importance of beloved furniture and accessories being a legacy.

Even at thirty-six, there were times when he thought of his own immortality. He never planned to marry. What would he leave behind? Who would mourn him? The answers weren’t comforting, so he continued to study Fallon. Unlike most people, his direct stare didn’t make her fidget.

He’d been devastatingly wrong about women before, but something told him that Fallon was telling the truth. This was more than a story to her. Watching her hair dance in the breeze, her steady gaze, he came to a decision.

Instead of being annoyed with Fallon, he really should be thanking her. If she hadn’t put a stop to things that afternoon they met, they would have probably ended up in bed and his life would have been in turmoil again. Besides, he’d like the Yates’ history and legacy to be preserved as well.

Stepping back inside, he watched her eyes widen, her mouth open. He realized she thought he was going to shut the door in her face. It annoyed the hell out of him that she believed he was that rude. “Come in.”

Her mouth hung open for a second longer, before she snapped it shut. She quickly stepped inside. “Thank you.”

He noted that perspiration dampened the flawless skin on her forehead. Perhaps he was rude to keep her out in the heat. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“No, thank—” Her eyes widened and she was across the room. Reverently her hand grazed the top of an oak finished chest of drawers. “This is one of Thaddeus’s pieces, isn’t it? His daughter used this for her hope chest.”

Lance joined her. “You did your research well, I see.”

“I wanted to be prepared.” She smiled over her shoulder at him, then turned back to the piece that was as tall as she. “He was a furniture maker before they struck oil on his property. A picture of this chest was the only one I could find of the contents in the house.”

“There are other pieces he made mixed throughout with the more famous makers like Chippendale,” he said. “The house is a treasure trove of furniture, art work and crystal.”

Her eyes glittered with hope, one hand clamped on the camera, the other on the notebook. “Then you’ll let me do the story?”

He was probably crazy considering he barely could keep his eyes off her lips. “You can do the story.” He motioned toward her camera. “Feel free to take as many photos as you like. You seem to understand and appreciate the furnishings – that they meant something to the Yates – they aren’t just things or possessions,” he said.

For a second, her eyes darkened with pain. “Yes”

He wondered if she was thinking about the incident that caused her to brand him a thief. “Feel free to look around. I’ll be in my office.” He pointed to an open door to the left. “Just let me know when you’re leaving.”

“Thank you.”

With a brief nod, he returned to his study, hoping he hadn’t made a terrible mistake.


( Story Continues... )

Copyright © 2013 by Francis Ray. All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Francis Ray and her family. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher's written permission. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this promotional excerpt.


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Celebrate with author Donna Hill

Once Upon a Holiday Interview with Donna Hill
From Donna Hill: I write to weave the threads that connect us all!

Donna Hill began her career in 1987 writing short stories for the confession magazines. Since that time she has more than fifty published titles to her credit since her first novel was released in 1990, and is considered one of the early pioneers of the African American romance genre.  Three of her novels have been adapted for television. She has been featured in Essence, the New York Daily News, USA Today, Today’s Black Woman, and Black Enterprise among many others. She has appeared on numerous radio and television stations across the country and her work has appeared on several bestseller lists, including Essence, Emerge and The Dallas Morning News among others.

Donna Hill has received numerous awards for her body of work—which cross several genres--  including The Career Achievement Award, the first recipient of The Trailblazer Award, The Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award, The Gold Pen Award among others, as well as commendations for her community service, during her tenure as Director for Kianga House—a transitional residence for homeless teen mothers and their children.  Donna co-wrote the screenplay Fire, which enjoyed limited theater release before going to DVD. As an editor she has packaged several highly successful novels, and anthologies, two of which were nominated for awards. 

Donna served as a writing instructor at The Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center in New York. For the past three years, Donna has been a writing instructor with the Elders Writing Program sponsored by Medgar Evers College through Poets & Writers, and oversaw the compilation and publication of their memoir anthology. Donna is a graduate of Goddard College with an MFA in Creative Writing.  She is an Adjunct Professor of English at Essex County College, and The College of New Rochelle, and lives in Brooklyn with her family. She works full–time, as a writer, for the Brooklyn Borough President’s office.

BPM:   Who does your work speak to?

When I look at my work as a full body I discovered, quite by accident, that there is an underlying theme to all of my stories whether they are romance, women's fiction, mystery, or even erotica and paranormal. My work speaks to our connection to each other.  It speaks to the impact that one person's actions have on another whether intentional or not.  In other words we are our brother's and sisters keeper and we have a responsibility for what we do because our actions will always impact someone else.

BPM:   You believe in:

I believe, that if You believe in yourself, all things are possible.

BPM:   You are humbled by:

I am constantly humbled by the readers who express their pleasure in what I do, and share with me the impact that my work has on them and has had on them for years.

BPM:   Faith allows you to:

Faith allows me to believe that if when I think I can't, I know that I will.

BPM:   What writer would you consider a mentor:

For me there is more than one writer that I would consider a mentor for several reasons.  One would be Bernice McFadden who is both friend and sounding board and whose work I admire.  Another would be Gwynne Forster who has been a friend for decades and I can grouse with about anything from writing to family.  I would also have to include Sandra Kitt as a mentor of sorts as she was the first writer that I met more than twenty years ago and convinced me that "editing" was not so hard!

BPM:   If  you weren't a writer, you would be:

I can't imagine myself being anything other than a writer in some capacity and my writing has led me to what I feel is my calling, which is teaching writing.

BPM:   The greatest threat to literary freedom is:

The greatest threat to literary freedom... good question. I would have to say the overwhelming demands that are now put on writers to be everything BUT a writer; marketeer, speech maker, radio personality, salesman. And of course being pigeon-holed because of race and the genre in which you write.

BPM:   Do you view writing as a gift or a career:

Writing is truly a gift.  Not everyone can write, whether they think so or not.  And clearly everyone cannot write, just as everyone cannot play a piano or paint a masterpiece.  The arts, although the mechanics can be taught, is God-given.  It is  intuitive. It is a part of who you are as an individual. Gifted writers, write because they must.  Career writers write for entirely different reasons.

BPM:   Life's greatest teacher is:

Life's greatest teacher is living.

BPM:   Success means:

Success means being happy in your life and feeling complete about the role you play in the lives of others.

BPM:   What legacy do you wish to leave:
If there was any legacy that I wished to leave it would be: She did what she loved and changed lives because of it.


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