/ November 5, 2015

Chapter 1

There’s good things and there’s bad things about a nearly full moon, Melanie thought. On the good side, it gives great illumination, especially as you run for your life through an urban maze of alleyways, parking lots, and side streets, few of which had adequate lighting. The light would be good if she ever had the chance to use the Glock she was holding in her right fist as she ran. She was an expert shot with the pistol, and knew even in the semi-darkness, she could put a round through an orange at fifty feet.

The bad thing, however, was that the people chasing her also had good visibility, and since they currently outnumbered her six to one, she knew that a gun battle was a good way to get killed. So she ran. Through alley after alley, making random lefts and rights to try and throw off pursuit. Melanie was a good cop. She kept herself in tip top shape, but her pursuers were more experienced, more numerous, and better coordinated.

Her biggest problem was that she was being forced to fight on unfamiliar turf. She was new to the Southside, having transferred in from Washington Heights less than a month ago. Her pursuers however were all experienced cops from the Southside. They knew every blind turn, every dead end, and knew where they could take shortcuts.

Rounding a turn, she skidded to a stop. In front of her were two of her pursuers, Ramirez and Gladstone. Both were young, under 25, and in as good or better shape than Melanie. Most worrisome though were that both were pointing SWAT MP7’s at her. She dove to her right as both men squeezed off a burst in her direction, narrowly missing her legs while she rolled behind a dumpster.

“Shit!” she muttered, looking around quickly. There wasn’t much around, to be honest. The dumpster was against an old warehouse, with no access on this side other than a metal rolling door that she thought looked very securely locked. No help there.

“Me-ellllll, we’re coming for you,” Ramirez taunted from the other side of the dumpster. “Make it easy on yourself puta, and give up. We might just let you live. Well, if you make it worth our time.”

Melanie checked the safety on her Glock, and tried to steady her breathing. Glancing quickly around the edge of the dumpster, she pulled her head back before the two could return fire. She knew she had only moments before the other four men, all members of a corrupt group of cops based out of the Southside, caught up, and then she’d be done for.


/ November 5, 2015

Stressed Naomi is having one of those “Murphy’s Law” kind of days—everything that can go wrong is going horribly wrong.

Traumatized by events from the night before, she ends up distracted at work—to the point that it gets her fired.

Her continued distraction leads to more catastrophe as she almost smashes into a stranger as she hurries away—or is it a blessing in disguise?

Noticing her distress, the handsome, wealthy-looking stranger offers her an attractive solution to her immediate needs: work for him as his personal assistant—no catch.

Ha! She doesn’t believe him, but her desperation makes her accept, and it isn’t long before she suspects he wants a whole lot more from her than getting his coffee!

She has been saving herself, but can she resist the hunk who saved her?




Hot, smelly breath on her face slowly woke Naomi up, then the pressure on her body finally registered, jarring her wide awake.

Someone was on top of her.

She started struggling and two rough-skinned hands were immediately on her wrists, limiting her movement.

Just as she was about to scream, one large hand found its way to her mouth, muffling the beginning of it, so she bit it hard.

A hard slap stunned her for a few moments, giving her attacker time to reposition himself, and before she knew it, he had planted himself between her legs and started working on removing her panties.

“Jenna!” she screamed, now that her mouth was free, horror and fear merging into a blood-curdling sound, and soon she heard her roommate’s footsteps running toward her room.

Her light flicked on, and she caught a glimpse of Jenna’s horrified pale face before her green eyes snapped around the room as she looked around for the nearest viable weapon.

Then Jenna grabbed the nearest lamp and brought it down on the head of the strange man on top of her.

The man collapsed immediately, successfully knocked out cold, and Naomi shoved him off of her to the ground, breathing hard and fast as adrenaline continued to course through her.

The intruder had gotten so close!

“Call 911!” Jenna reminded her, and Naomi fumbled around for her phone to make the call.

Once the operator answered, she spilled the events of the past few minutes, begging them to send the cops soon; she didn’t know how long it would be before the guy regained consciousness.

But Jenna had her wits about her and was already working on makeshift restraints, tying one of the assailant’s arms to the foot of the bed using a piece of clothing, then working on the other.


/ November 5, 2015

“I’m never alone. He haunts my dreams. My consciousness. The man took ten years of my life, and now I’m expected to pick up the trust he stole when he shattered my heart. 

And Mr. Warren dares to think he can make that all go away?”

When Monica ran away from the Dom who mistreated her, she thought she would never be in a relationship again. Heartbroken and wounded, she now devotes her life to a business catering to the depraved elite. 

Then Mr. Henry Warren walks into her world, offering her an escape from the pain that haunts the scars on her body. What he doesn’t understand is that a woman like Monica knows what pain is all too well – and no longer knows the difference between a Dom who will take care of her… and one who will destroy her. 

But she’s falling for his pursuits. His charms. His handsome manners. His promises of kindness… with more than a hint of kink.


The only way Monica can heal is by submitting once again. 

His domination is the cure. 


The gun shook in Monica’s hand. She had never fired one before – she didn’t want today to be the day.

“You don’t get to play the games anymore.” Although her heart thumped in her chest, she had to be steady, cool. For the first time in her life, Monica had to look like she was in complete control in front of her nightmare.

A dozen pairs of eyes were on her. Jasmine, the woman she was trying to protect besides herself, and Jackson Lyle, the awful sack of shit who called himself her boyfriend, her Dom, her master… they were the only ones that mattered. Jasmine, scared out of her wits, and Jackson, who didn’t believe in a million years his demure submissive would ever actually shoot him.

“Now, my pet, that is a dangerous weapon you have there. You should put it down and give it to me.”

The bastard actually held his hand out. He can’t be serious. After so many years together… after all she had given him… after all he had done to her… he really thought he could say a few nice words and get her to back down? What kind of broken spine did he think she had?

“Don’t you dare call me your pet ever again. You don’t deserve to call me that. You lost that privilege when you started hurting me.” The gun was hot against her skin. She hadn’t even fired it – yet – and she was already anticipating the burn of revenge.

“Hurting you? What are you talking about?”


/ November 5, 2015

Lanie accepts an invitation to spend vacation with her roommate and his father on their private island. The sparks fly between Lanie and Jason as soon as they meet. She wants him, and he wants the younger woman out of his son’s life. The solution is simple–seduce her away from Josh to force her to show her true intentions. Once she has ended her engagement to Josh, he’ll dump her brutally to teach the little gold-digger a lesson. Josh will forgive him once he realizes what she is. It seems so easy, until she becomes his lover, leaving Jason confused about her, his plans, and their future.

Lanie covers for Josh when he announces their engagement, though they have never been more than friends. She agrees to pretend to be engaged as long as he tells his dad the truth quickly. When Josh is called away for a summer internship, she and Jason have the island to themselves. She starts to fall in love with him and knows she’ll have to tell him the truth for the sake of their future, even if it means exposing Josh’s secret.


Jason grimaced when he got his first look at the girl his son had brought home. They were still unloading their luggage from the seaplane that had stopped at his dock, so he had plenty of time to size her up. In denim shorts with tattered legs, slung low on her hips, a cropped black T-shirt, and with the ends of her short hair dyed an unnatural shade of purple-red, she practically screamed teenage rebellion.

The only problem with that theory was he knew her to be twenty-three, according to the information his son had relayed. Josh was a sophomore, and so was she. When Jason questioned why she was still in college at her age, his son had breezily explained Lanie spent a few years searching for herself. Judging from the appearance she presented, the girl would have been better off spending a bit more time looking, until she found someone remotely presentable.

His eyes widened when she straightened, stretching with her arms over her head. A dart of desire hit him like a fist in the stomach, and he shifted in his boat shoes, uncomfortable with the idea of finding Lanie attractive. At thirty-eight, he was too old to react that way to a nice pair of breasts in a tight T-shirt.


/ November 5, 2015


“Christina!” Vanessa yelled while stepping into my office. “If you buy any more useless crap, I’m going to send you to that hoarding show. You do not need another fax machine.” She sat on my desk. “What’s going on?”

Vanessa and I have been friends since kindergarten and co-workers for the past five years. I like to call her my personal Oprah. She was always full of advice and knew how to shoot it to me straight.

So, it was no surprise that when she saw the mess that my office was in, she was going to say something about it. She looked around at all the boxes, shook her head, and pulled out her mirror. She applied yet another coat of lip gloss to her full lips and played with her bangs, adjusting them so they looked just right.

I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head while I watched her–she was always primping herself. Vanessa was a gorgeous, full-figured Latina. She knew her beautiful body and face had men eating out of the palm of her hand, thanks in no small part to the fact that she was constantly at the gym. She worked out, ate well, and even made regular visits to the salons. Sometimes, I wished I had the energy–or the time.

After I had turned 28, I gave up on all that. It was like one day I looked into the mirror and told myself enough was enough. I couldn’t keep up with all of the new trends anyway. Ladies went well beyond simple hair and beauty tricks, now they added hair and nails. Some were dying their hair, wearing super high heels, adding fake eyelashes, and they were even doing plastic surgery. Looking through the magazines, it wasn’t about spotting the celebrities, but more like recognizing who they were.

I’m done with all that. My routine consisted of a bit of blush for my fair skin and maybe some dirty blonde highlights, if I was feeling wild.

Now, Vanessa was looking at me again expectantly, and it took me a minute to remember why she was even in my office.

“They aren’t for me!” I finally responded playfully. Then I added, “I’m shipping them out of here first thing Monday morning.”

I turned to go over the invoices, which were becoming a hefty pile on my desk. I have so much to do, I thought miserably as I rubbed my temples. A vacation. I need one stat.

“Damn, well you can at least place it neatly in the corner.”

“I told them to do it,” I responded, waving my hand behind my back as if the delivery men were still standing there.

“Chrissy, I’ve told you a million times, you have to put your foot down–especially when it comes to the workers.”


/ November 5, 2015

Twenty-four-year-old Eve meets gorgeous billionaire Grant Carlson at a Hollywood gala. Things get hot beyond belief – until Grant does something unforgivable.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Especially when she’s an internet security expert and former hacker.

But Grant has a secret – one that will plunge both him and Eve into even greater passion – and incredible danger.



Okay, first thing you’ve got to know about me is I’m a regular chick. Or as regular a chick as an internet security expert can be.

Sure, I can beef up your company’s computer network to protect it against DDoS’s (Distributed Denial of Service attacks, for you non-geeks out there). Yeah, I can write a mean packet sniffer to capture whatever data you want. Yes, I can do a thousand other things that will bore the hell out of you unless you have a computer science degree.

But I like binge-watching Netflix and HBO Go. (Game of Thrones – Team Khaleesi, woot woot!)

I like bingeing on cupcakes, too.

I’m a rocker chick, sort of. When I’m not being all introverted and homebodyish, I’ll pour myself into a pair of skin-tight leather pants and go see Steel Panther in Hollywood. They’re the coolest, funniest parody metal hair band you’ve ever seen, by the way. It’s like Mötley Crüe and Weird Al Yankovic had a love child.

I’m also… well, I’m pretty.

Don’t be all like, What a bitch, she’s so stuck on herself! It’s not my doing. It was a weird genetic quirk, and it generally makes my life hell.

I’ll bet you occasionally get leered at by guys, right? At the supermarket, workplace, whatever. Little surreptitious side-glances at your breasts? Inappropriate sexual jokes by male co-workers?

Now imagine this: you work in an industry filled with guys with thick glasses who are still virgins at 27. They learned their social skills by playing Xbox with little headsets on. The only boobs they’ve seen outside of internet porn are… okay, they haven’t seen any boobs outside of internet porn.

I’m being grossly unfair, I know. I do have some really great co-workers who have cool girlfriends, who are considerate, who are awesome human beings.

And I shouldn’t bag on guys in Tech. I didn’t lose my v-card until I was a junior in college, and I haven’t had a date in the last six months.

But, seriously… there’s an awful lot of nerds who spend departmental meetings just staring at my chest.


/ November 5, 2015

An interview that changed her life…

Faith is willing to do whatever it takes to get–and keep–a position with Lawrence and Associates. The job requirements are more satisfying than she could have ever guessed, but while sensual games are encouraged, falling in love is against the rules.

She must protect her heart…

Above all, Faith’s sexy, mysterious boss, Mr. Lawrence, is off-limits. To sign on for a long term deal, Faith will have to dig deep, and find the strength to walk away.

Will her boss be strong enough to bring her back?


Faith wanted the job so badly she could taste it.

Seeing the office decided it. Not only was it nicely decorated with furniture that suggested they’d actually be able to pay their employees as promised, the air conditioning was divine.

Financial health was important, especially considering her last job—as a secretary for a small fly-by-night injury attorney—still hadn’t paid her for her last month in their employ. Collecting had been pretty much impossible when they’d simply closed up shop and neglected to tell her. And it wasn’t like she had money to track them down.

Before she’d even bothered to send a resume in for this job, she’d checked and double-checked that they were on the up and up with the friend who’d offered her their apparently secret fax number. He’d reassured her that not only were they solvent, they’d been around for decades.

Of course, things had changed in the last couple of weeks. Her checking account balance said she’d have to interview for this job even if the place had been furnished with folding chairs.

Nervously, she tugged at the expensive skirt-suit she’d maxed her credit card out to purchase, and gave the receptionist a polite smile when the woman said Mr. Lawrence would be with her in a few minutes.

“Nice office,” she told the woman—Tara, according to the nameplate. Buxom and blonde, she was more beautiful than anyone Faith had ever seen up close. But she seemed nice enough, and she flashed her big, bright teeth at Faith’s comment.

“It’s a very nice office.” Tara winked, then laughed. Her slight southern accent softened what seemed to be an inside joke.

Faith didn’t get the joke, but she chuckled politely and did her best to pretend she wasn’t pretending. She needed this job, and if she had to laugh at jokes she didn’t understand to get it, she would.


/ November 5, 2015

Exciting – Romantic – Hot and Steamy!

Becka Jasper is a graduate student on the fast track to a successful career as a researcher. Oliver Weeks is the CEO of a major food research corporation – a powerful and handsome alpha male, that not only knows what he wants, but also gets what he wants.

And soon enough, he wants Becka.

Brought together when Becka sits in on one of Oliver’s guest teaching lectures, they connect and discover a chemistry neither is prepared for. Becka soon finds herself wanting more from Oliver than just the internship she originally envisioned, but, almost from the start, she sees signs that Oliver may not be exactly what he seems to be…



Isat outside Dr. Evan’s office waiting while she finished an advisee session with a freshman. I knew she was a freshman because she was in tears. I remembered that feeling, years ago, too far from home, afraid that any grade less than an A would equal flunking out of college, but, even working as hard as I could, had earned a C. In Psychology. My major. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

After another fifteen minutes, Dr. Evans got the student calmed down enough to have a conversation about her classes for next term, then sent her on her way. Walking the student to the door, a blond, waifish creature who didn’t look older than twelve, never mind the age of a college student, Dr. Evans smiled at me and welcomed me into her office.

“Bet you miss those days, huh, Becka?” she asked me, gesturing for me to have a seat in the chair next to her desk.

“Not even for a moment,” I laughed as I dropped my bag at my feet. “I don’t think any year of college was as hard as that first year.”

Dr. Evans nodded. She was my thesis advisor, a younger woman herself, probably in her early thirties, and very beautiful. She had long dirty blond hair that she wore tied back every day at work. She dressed to the nines, suits only, heels, the works. Sitting next to her, I was her virtual opposite. I had jet black hair that was too short for me to wear up; it hung in a bob and cut at angles to just below my chin. Dressing in jeans and a sweater was dressing up for me; my norm was yoga pants and a tank top or a sweatshirt if it was cold outside.

Dr. Evans hadn’t been my advisor in undergrad, but, once I’d entered grad school and declared my thesis, she had been assigned as my thesis advisor. I couldn’t believe my luck; she was on the front lines of research in food science and nutrition, the area I wanted to start with my thesis, continue with my PhD, and, someday, maybe catch the Nobel Prize.


/ November 5, 2015

Part 1: Love don’t cost a thing… except everything.

When billionaire mogul James Preston hires an escort as a date for his brother’s wedding, he knows he’s taking a risk. One thing he won’t be taking? The escort’s clothes off. He just wants a date–not a girlfriend. Not a relationship. No strings. No ties. No games. No sex. He has his reasons. He lost someone he loved, and isn’t interested in trying again. Too many opportunities for mistakes or worse, heartbreak.

Audrey Reynolds became a high-end escort to keep her brother in his expensive group home. James Preston is the client of her dreams–he’s offering to pay her more money for two weeks than she’s ever made before. But James is… difficult. He’s gorgeous, troubled and all too human for Audrey’s business-like tastes. Determined to complete her assignment and collect the money, Audrey tries to play by James’s rules. But before she knows what’s happening, he’s rewriting the contract.

When Audrey ends up in James’s bed, he realizes that she’s everything he’s wanted… and everything he’s been running from.

NOTE: Cliffhanger warning. The entire series is available now!



All I wanted was a date for my stupid asshole brother’s wedding.

Not a girlfriend. Not a relationship. A date.

No strings. No ties. No games.

No sex.

So when I called Elena at the escort service, I was very clear.

“I want someone beautiful. Who can function at high-society events,” I said. “She needs to be able to use her silverware properly and to be discreet. I can’t have someone who gets drunk and falls down in public. Also, no one who looks cheap. I don’t want a lot of makeup and big, fake boobs.”

“I don’t have any cheap-looking girls, Mr. Preston,” Elena said. “Unless the client is into that. Then I have plenty.” She laughed.

I waited for her to finish. “I need her to be available for two weeks. I have cocktail parties, lunches, brunches, the rehearsal dinner, then the wedding. And then for some ungodly reason, my brother wants us all to go on his honeymoon to the Caribbean with him. It’s going to be the wedding from hell.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples; two weeks with my family was going to be bad enough. And now I was going to have to babysit a hooker the whole time.

But it was better than going alone. I hoped.

“She’ll need a passport. And a drug test. I don’t want any users.” I winced, remembering the last time I’d hired an escort. It had been over ten years ago, but I still clearly remembered waking up and finding her in the bathroom, shooting up in between her toes.


/ November 5, 2015

Erica Williams is a rising star in the fashion world, with dramatic designs and a sharp eye born of the streets of Miami.

Dwayne Forrester is the bad boy CEO of a hotel resort chain with blue blood roots. When this up and coming fashion designer meets the man of her dreams, can the couple overcome distance and family prejudices in order to find happiness?


The flashes from the photographers’ cameras were blinding, and the noise from the applause was deafening as Erica made her way down the runway. She knew that eventually her shows would be much larger, with crowds of hundreds and coverage from almost all of the major fashion magazines. But for her, at the age of twenty six, the small hall that held maybe a few dozen guests felt very gratifying. Her eyes filled with tears, partly from the blinding lights, partly from the emotions as the models all clapped respectfully for her along with the crowd.

She clasped hands with a few of them, men who had been with her since the beginning, those that were willing to accept partial and delayed payments just so she could get off the ground. Reaching the end of the runway, she gave a huge hug to Brian, who had been with her the longest and had told her he was retiring from the runway to start a family with his boyfriend after the next show. She would miss him dearly. He’d stuck with EW even when the paychecks had been measly or delayed, confident that the girl he’d known starting out walking the runways would be able to make something of herself as a designer as well.

Waving to the small crowd, Erica turned and made her way to the back of the stage area, slipping through the small side curtain and making her way to the back. Her assistant, a young redhead originally from Des Moines named Tina, was there to greet her and give her a congratulatory hug.

“Great show, boss.”

“Thanks, Tina. You were so helpful in getting this show ready to go. Now we only have one more to get through.”

It had been a tough month for Erica. For four years she had busted her butt cultivating connections, designing new collections, and playing the often cut-throat political games that was the fashion industry. She had refused to let herself get hemmed into a corner due to her background coming from the bad side of Miami or being a former model, and finally found reward as her spring collection received showings in Tokyo, London, and Milan for their fashion weeks.