Today I'm showcasing Rachelle Ayala's new release, and it's HOT, HOT, HOT!
The World Cup is over, but Comic-Con is coming up!!! If
you've ever wondered what happens when a soccer goalie meets a cosplay girl,
check out Jaden Sloup and Ella Kennedy in Rachelle Ayala's newest book,
Soccer goalkeeper, Jaden Sloup, has his eye on Ella Kennedy,
a woman who won’t date jocks or frat boys. He dons a pair of nerd glasses and
hugs a laptop to convince her he’s a techno geek, and she agrees to go to Las
Vegas with him for a cosplay convention where his team’s playoff game happens
Jaden must juggle sizzling in the sheets with Ella against a
soccer match and hanging with his frat brother teammates. When a bully harasses
Ella and challenges Jaden to a fight, he proves that even a goalie can score.
From the Author:
Love is the first in a series of exciting sports
novellas in my new #Played Series. They
are fast, flirty, and sexy, a quick read at the beach or poolside, or in
between running errands. I hope you enjoy Jaden and Ella's story because
there's more to come. Look for Playing the Rookie heating up
Spring Training in Arizona, and more.
WARNING: must be over 18 to read, so fasten your seatbelts,
because sporty men and enthusiastic women make the very best lovers.
Love is available from Amazon only and available
through Amazon's #KindleUnlimited plan! Pick up your copy before Comic-con and
see what fabulous costumes Ella comes up with.
Today I thought I'd share a little bit of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough, Book Three in my Stafford Brothers series. If you've already read the first two books, you know that the twins, Marc and Charles, are good men, the stuff Prince Charming is made of.
Their older brother, Greg, is also a good man, but he has a bad problem. Here's a peek into Greg's life in the opening chapter...
How do you like that cover? It make you wonder what the handsome, television host has going on in his life, doesn't it?
Greg Stafford slammed the door to his
upper east side Manhattan apartment, engaged both locks then dropped his head
to the door and banged it several times—hoping the pain might snap him out of
his nightmare. No such luck. He dragged his body to the sofa, slumped down and
tried to concentrate on the tinkling sound of the ceiling-to-floor Asian
fountain in the foyer. Even that did nothing to calm him. He’d just spent the
past four hours at the local police precinct, waiting for his attorney to get
him released. His arrest would surely be headline news. He wasn’t a major star,
but he had become a fixture on New York television and in the markets where the
show was syndicated.
At a complete loss for what to do next, he picked up the
remote for the TV and turned the channel to the network to which he’d been
contracted for the past two years. Would they report it? Or would they ignore
it? That was just wishful thinking. They couldn’t ignore breaking news that
involved one of their own. Could they?
His co-host, Arianna Wolfe, with whom Greg shared the desk
every day, said, "A member of The Scoop family is
off the air tonight, as authorities investigate indecency charges. He will not
be at the desk until the investigation is complete. We will bring you up to
date when new information becomes available.”
Thankful that they avoided the details, Greg changed the
channel. Sadly, he knew the other stations wouldn’t be as kind.
breaking news, the wife of New York Senator Carl Price was arrested this
weekend for having engaged in sexual relations in broad daylight in an alley
not far from Bloomingdale’s. The man has now been identified as Gregory
Stafford, the host of the top-rated magazine show, The Scoop. Both were charged
with indecent exposure and public lewdness and released on their own
contacted Senator Price’s office, but received no response. Stafford has been
unavailable for comment. Legal issues aside, these arrests raise questions
about the stability of the popular senator’s marriage, which has been under
scrutiny for some time. Mrs. Price, who is twenty-five years younger than the
Senator, has been seen frequently on the New York club circuit alone. Stafford
is single and is a well-known regular on the club scene.”
The report hadn’t ended more than two minutes before his
phone started ringing. His boss. Then
it rang in succession ten more times. He stared at the screen--his publicist. The station manager. His
co-anchor. His father. His mother. Charles. Marc. Vic. Jesse. Nick. Coming
from a big family could be a blessing, but it could also be a major curse. The
Scoop was syndicated in most major markets, and inevitably, members of the
family watched the show every night. Right now, he didn’t want to speak to any
of them. What could he say to explain the situation he’d put himself in? If he
wanted to hang onto to his job though, it was necessary that he respond to his
boss and station manager. He pressed his head between his hands as though he
could squeeze the condemning voices out, then got up and walked into the
kitchen. Vodka. Yes, vodka was appropriate now. Even though he wasn’t a big
drinker, he kept a bottle around for when he had guests. The freezer always
held a bottle or two of Stoli, his favorite. After he poured enough for three
people into a water glass, he swallowed three times and picked up the
phone. No, not yet. He had to think for
a while before he spoke to anyone.
From puberty on, his sexual appetite had been what most
people considered normal. But in the past few years, he’d graduated from a
serious relationship, to casual dating, to serial dating, to strictly sexual
relationships, to one-night stands, then to online porn when he couldn’t find a
hook-up. He avoided thinking about the
reasons why he’d gotten to this point. Normally he didn’t allow his mind to
venture into that kind of introspection. His outlook was more on the don’t cry over spilt milk side. But
recently he’d begun to question his escalating sexual appetite, which had begun
after his breakup with Evelyn.
Why couldn’t he be more like his brothers? All five of them
were committed to just one woman, and they all seemed happy. Not just happy, but
satisfied. Marc and Gianne were always thirty seconds from jumping each other,
but they were newlyweds. Cydney’s
perpetual pregnancies proved that doing the wild thing topped her and Jesse’s
list of favorite pastimes. Vic and Mona had been married for ten years; yet
sometimes, the strong sex vibe between them could be sensed by anyone within
ten feet. Even his single baby brother, Nick, boasted about his upcoming second
anniversary with his girlfriend, Cherilyn.
What was wrong with him? No woman held his interest for more
than a weekend or two. Weren’t they all raised in the same home with the same
lofty moral values? And why hadn’t he always been like this? The third oldest
of the six, Greg had managed to keep his problem a secret from his family;
although when Charles came to New York to stay with him not long ago, he’d
taken his brother to a couple of his favorite clubs. When he invited two of the
women they’d met back to his apartment for the night, Charles begged off. He
didn’t come right out and say anything, but his facial expressions, tone of
voice, and early departure made it clear that he obviously disagreed with
Greg’s lifestyle. Hopefully, he hadn’t discussed his suppositions with the rest
of the family. Not that it mattered now. Everyone would know within a matter of
He gulped down the rest of his drink in an effort to fortify
himself before he listened to the voicemail messages. Might as well go in order.
“This is Ken. I supposed you’ve already heard that the Scoop
had to put you on administrative leave for the immediate future. You, me and
the people from legal sit down and figure out where we go from here. Get back
to me as soon as you get this message.”
He forwarded to the next message. “Please pick up, Greg,”
his publicist, Jordyn, pleaded. You know
why I’m calling. I have to speak with you before I can figure out what kind of
spin to put on this…event. Call me
“Greg, it’s John Hanke. It’s imperative we talk as soon as possible.
Your attorney informed us of the situation. Your arrest has brought up some
legal concerns, not for the station, but for you personally. I want to discuss
them with you immediately. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“Hi, Greg. It’s Arianna. We tried to gloss over the details
as best we could. Let me know how you’re doing. I’m worried about my co-host.
Please call me back.”
“This is your father. What the hell is going on up there?
Your mother is frantic. She’s been crying since we heard the report. Couldn’t
you at least have warned us? Why did we have to find out from the television?
An explanation is in order, son. I expect a call tonight.”
The tremor in his mother’s voice when he forwarded to her
message told him she was still crying. “Sweetheart, I know Daddy called, but I
wanted to talk to you myself. Are you all right? I hope your absence from the
show isn’t permanent. Let me know that you're okay, please.”
He couldn’t face his father’s reproach. Calling his mother
would be less painful.
The calls from his brothers, except for Charles, were of the
WTF variety. Charles merely said, “You’re out of control, man. It’s time you
thought about getting some help. If you want to talk, I’m here.”
The cold empty glass in his hand mocked him. Icy and vacant.
Like his life at the moment. He didn’t understand whether the empathy he felt
was for the glass or for himself. Nevertheless, he wandered back into the
kitchen and refilled the depleted vessel with chilled liquid. Why couldn’t he be filled? What was it that
had him feeling so void?
was I thinking? I knew who she was, but I wanted her so badly that l I didn’t
care what the repercussions might be if we got caught. Why can’t I control
myself? He threw the glass across the room, and it shattered on the
red wall over the black Chinese symbols for peace.
had been on his way into the studio and stopped at Barney’s to buy a new
cologne at the men’s fragrance counter when she appeared next to him and inclined
her head exposing her long, creamy neck.
do you think of this fragrance?”
leaned closer and inhaled. “Intoxicating.”
studied his eyes for a long moment, then breezed away leaving an enticing trail
of expensive fragrance behind. He followed it like a cartoon character drifting
on a visible ribbon of scent that wrapped itself around his head. Her gaze
locked with his as the elevator door opened and she stepped inside. Greg
quickened his steps so he might enter the cab before the doors closed. They
rode in silence for one floor.
know you,” she said, giving him a blatant head-to-toe scan. “You host that TV
show…The Story…The Chat…”
Scoop,” Greg corrected her with a smile. “And you’re Mrs. Carl Price.”
You are a very good-looking man.”
couldn’t believe what happened next. She pressed the stop button. The elevator
halted its descent, and she took two steps toward him so there wasn’t even an
inch of daylight between them. When she put her palm against his chest and
raised her chin so he felt her breath on his face, he curved his right arm
around her back and pulled her body against his. “And you’re an extremely
you on your way to an appointment?” she asked, her lips brushing his.
am now.” With his free hand, Greg cupped her booty and pressed her hips against
him. He backed her against the wall of the elevator and raised her dress up
around her hips.
here,” she said between raspy breaths and yanked the dress back down. The wife
of the state’s wildly popular junior senator pushed the button to restart the
elevator. “Let’s leave.” When the door opened on the first floor, she strode
out and headed for the main store entrance. Greg followed her like a starving
dog panting after a rare steak.
in the sunshine on bustling Madison Avenue, she slipped her sunglasses down
from the top of her head and picked up her pace until she shifted into a jog.
Greg’s heart thundered as she turned onto E. 61st Street and glanced
over her shoulder to see if he still followed her. The suspense of where she
might be going threatened to kill him. She turned the corner again and
disappeared into an alley.
he caught up with her, she had dropped her shopping bags to the ground and was
standing with her hands on her hips as though proposing a dare. Unable to slow
his pace, he slammed her against the brick wall of the building. The way his
head spun from the chase and the headiness of the challenge, he had to press
his hands against the wall on either side of her head to get his balance.
We can’t stay here long before someone sees us.” She wriggled her dress up and
stepped her feet apart. “Hurry!”
This is my very first entry in the Midweek Tease hosted by Sandra Bunino. In MidWeek Tease, writers share work from their published work or work-in-progress.
My latest novel, Till You Come Back to Me, released on May 31st! This is the beginning of the first love scene between Dr. Charles Stafford and Nurse Adanna Okoro.
Till You Come Back to Me - Teaser
He wrapped both arms around her, and the softness of her breasts
against his chest sent a wave of desire through him. All he wanted to do was
devour her, but tonight was her night. He took the wine glass from her hand,
raised her chin and touched her mouth with a kiss as soft as a whisper then
leaned her back onto the bed never taking his mouth from hers. The tension in
her body eased as he kissed his way over her chin, down her neck stopping only
to remove her blouse. Tonight she wore a white satiny bra that contrasted
perfectly against her skin. Not wanting to rush, he took his time kissing her
breasts through the slippery fabric and grasping her erect nipples between his
teeth. The breathy sounds she made only spurred him on, and her sharp intake of
breath when he let his hand brush over the sensitive spot between her thighs
only made it harder for him to maintain the unhurried pace.
Charles had no idea when they would get this chance again once
they returned to Nigeria. If only they had more time together. He slipped his
hands under her bottom and flipped her over so she was on top of him then
squeezed both cheeks of her magnificent booty. His hands urged her against him
until their hips were grinding in a slow precise tempo. Adanna responded with a
moan, her heart pounding against his chest. Their kisses, now exploring and
ravenous, drove him to accomplish his only goal at that moment - to get her out
of those slacks so there were no boundaries between them. Willing himself to
slow his pace, he rolled onto his side taking her with him. First he unhooked
the satin confining her breasts then concentrated on the buttons of her pants
and had to get up on his knees in order to wriggle them over legs.
“Tell me what you want,”
he whispered against her open mouth when he lay back down beside her and ran
his hands over her velvety skin.
Being an indie author is wonderful, exhilarating, difficult, exhausting, profitable, frustrating and about fifty other adjectives that I won't bore you with right now. I am so thankful that I joined the "indie publishing revolution" when I did back in 2010. Since that time, I've watched the industry change and evolve into a very different organism than the one that existed when I first started writing in 2001. What I find myself confronted with at this point, and I'm sure most indie authors do as well, is deciding how, when or even if I should change direction. Twelve years ago, an author didn't have much choice in how she wanted to build her writing career. There was traditional publishing and vanity publishing. Those were the two choices. One carried respect; the other scorn and ridicule. Today, there are too many options.
When I published Have You Seen Her?, my first book, I'd been closely studying the trends. Electronic reading was about to explode with the introduction of the Kindle e-reader. Other companies followed with the Nook, Kobo, Sony e-reader, Pandigital, et al. Then the tablet debuted and opened up another avenue by which readers could get their reading fix.
But, as with any new trend, there are always people who aren't interested, are slow on the uptake or just plain refuse to try something new. When it comes to readers, the paper devotees are fiercely hanging on to their books. I've had a few inquiries from a handful of readers asking why I didn't publish my books in paperback.
From conversations in the author groups to which I belong, I knew paperback sales only represent a small portion of indie book sales these days, yet I didn't want to ignore the anti-digital readers. As a result, I decided to experiment with Amazon's CreateSpace and publish the first two books in my Stafford brothers series in paperback just to see how they do before I invest in having my backlist published there.
Amazon has made the process was very simple, if you have the book formatted correctly. This time I didn't have the time or energy to learn yet another formatting process, so used a formatter who was referred to me by an author friend. Her prices were inexpensive, and her turnaround time was remarkable.
A Woman's Worth and Till You Come Back to Me became available on CreateSpace last week, and I've yet to make a sale. In the same week, the e-books are selling very well. Being the impatient woman I am, I'm letting readers know the paperbacks are available, but if this first week is any indication, I am seriously reconsidering publishing the rest of my books in paperback.
Authors, what percentage of your sales are paperback?
This week I have three of my grandkids visiting, and I think I've only written one paragraph all week! Today I'm taking the boys out for breakfast, to the barbershop for haircuts then to the movies to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Of course, that's not my choice. I'd much rather see Rio 2 or The Lego Movie, but at ten and thirteen, they say they're too old for those. LOL! I have nothing to blog about, but I thought I share some things I ran across online this week that made me laugh...
As you know, since I published in 2010 my books have only been available in electronic format. Recently readers have been asking for the Stafford brothers books in paperback. In an effort to make all of you happy, I am in the process of having A Woman's Worth and Till You Come Back to Me formatted for Amazon's CreateSpace.
As soon as they are available for order, I'll let you know!