#GuestPost- 5 Things Interracial Couples Can Do to Make their Relationship Work + Giveaway by Roxy Wilson

Interracial Couple- Via Getty Images

Getty Images

Happy New Year, MJ.  It’s good to be visiting with you and your readers, today.  Like the rest of your fans, I’m eagerly anticipating your third book in the Butterfly Memoirs.

It’s interesting that about a year ago, I had the privilege and pleasure of reading and reviewing Jaded (click here to read my review).  Incidentally, Zach made it to Roxy’s Top Ten Heroes for 2013.

I’m an avid reader, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that since I enjoyed Jaded, I checked out MJ’s backlist, 1-clicked, and read A Heart Not Easily Broken.  Brian and Ebony’s story was both heart-wrenching and heart-warming and I rooted for them all the way to the end of their journey, at least the journey within the confines of the pages of the book.

For those who may not know this, Brian and Ebony are an interracial couple, not unlike Blake and Sloane in my newly released novel, the Right Kind of Love.  Just like Brian and Ebony, Blake and Sloane had their troubles as a couple, wrestling with negativity from kith and kin.  They are fictional characters, but in real life, interracial dating and marriage are becoming as common as apple pie.  Does it mean, therefore, that this trend is more socially acceptable?  Sadly, it’s not always the case.

Many times, what we see depicted on TV and at the cinema is a reflection of what‘s happening in our community and the rest of the world. When it comes to interracial courtship and marriage, some shows deserve an honorable mention.  Take, for instance, Guest Who’s Coming to Dinner.  This movie highlights the disparity between what we say and what we do.  Joey Drayton’s parents raised her to treat all men, regardless of their race, as equals, but when she introduced them to her fiancé, Dr. Prentice, their true colors shone through.

What’s more, Tom and Helen Willis, the interracial couple in the sitcom, the Jeffersons, often bore the brunt of George Jefferson’s insults, which he dished out week after week. Many an episode featured Jefferson poking fun at the couple, whom he called ‘chocolate and vanilla’ or ‘zebra’.

Hmmm…  Thirty-one seconds.  That is the duration of the Cheerios commercial which first aired less than a year ago.  However, not long after it was broadcasted, the YouTube page was bombarded with many racist comments.  Why?  It was because Cheerios depicted an interracial family.   Eventually, YouTube had to shut down the comments section.

**Click to view the Cheerios commercial**

Moreover, many people are completely obsessed with Scandal, the TV series, because of Olivia’s sense of style, Shonda Rhimes’s inventive use of cliff-hangers, the dirty politics, the music, the dialogue, the sizzling sexual chemistry between Olivia and Fitz… Okay, you get the picture!  Nonetheless, there are others who hate the show!  Much of their angst revolves around the fact that, not only are Fitz and Olivia having a torrid affair, but also because Olivia is a black woman, who chooses a white man. Say, what?  “Isn’t Olivia the epitome of independence and ingenuity?  Isn’t she a 21st century woman? Then why does she seem content to be the President’s side piece, the other woman?” some ask, by way of seeking confirmation.  To many of them, her relationship with the President is reminiscent of the cruel system of plantation slavery, when white slave masters took their black slaves as mistresses.  Hmmm…

Though interracial relationships have increased significantly, in recent times, it’s obvious that many people who date and/or marry outside of their race face a number of challenges.  But how can they conquer them?  I believe there are five things they can do:

  1. Respect each others’ culture and traditions.  Life can be stressful, so couples ought to use their differences to learn from each other, laugh with each other, and cement their love for each other.
  2. Keep away from toxic people who are hell-bent on destroying the relationship.  Let’s face it; there will be haters out there.  However, the couple should not allow them to steal their joy.
  3. Remember to reflect and rejuvenate.  Yes, all couples experience trials and tribulations, but interracial couples may have to face a greater number of them, than same-race couples.  However, they shouldn’t think that every problem encountered is as a result of the fact that they are of different races.  They need to take the time to talk about what’s hurting them, and implement those measures which will allow them to heal.
  4.   Stay focused.  Even if the couple’s family or closest friends are ambivalent about them dating or marrying interracially, they need to let them know where their loyalties lie.  They shouldn’t allow anyone to persuade or intimidate or lambaste them because of their decision.  If they’re married, their spouse should come first.
  5. Acknowledge the blessing.  Think about how the blending of both cultures increases the couples’ knowledge, makes them more tolerant of other people’s perspectives, helps to improve their attitude, and deepens their love for each other, thus, creating a unique human being. And if the couple has biological and/or adopted kids, they need to think about all the things they can pass unto them, which in the end enrich their lives.

Brian and Ebony in A Heart Not Easily Broken and Blake and Sloane in the Right Kind of Love, face some of the ordeals mentioned above. You, too, may have had the bitter taste of what it feels like to be one-half of a racially-mixed couple. Yet, just like M. J. and my fictional characters did, you can also overcome some, if not all, of these challenges with patience and perseverance.

 

Right Kind of Love

New Yorker Sloane Saunders has just about given up on love. She’s thirty-something and very single. A magazine article jolts her from her malaise and motivates her to do something she’s never tried before: online dating, and firstmeet.com is the website of choice.

Attending his brother’s bachelor party was the wake-up call Blake Morrison needed. Memories of a passionate relationship from his past drive him to return to claim his woman. Sloane. Despite the sizzling chemistry between them, it’s not as easy as he thought. With a family crisis and Sloane’s preconceived notions about love and relationships getting in the way, can Blake convince Sloane they have the right kind of love and that a love like theirs can last?

Amazon     Secret Cravings Publishing     ARe     Bookstrand

 

***Read the Excerpt then enter the contest listed below!***

Excerpt:

“Why am I doing this, again?”

Sloane stared at the matchmaking website. Firstmeet.com. It promised to make falling in love easy. Then why was her chest so tight? Why did she feel like Atlas, with the weight of the heavens on her shoulders? Were these signs that her foray into online dating could turn out to be one of the horror stories she’d heard on the news? With her luck she’d end up meeting a catfish who created a false identity and made a complete fool of her. Not in a million years would she have believed she would resort to this.

Do I really need to do this? Is it worth the risk? No. Maybe I shouldn’t bother. I should just be content living alone, and using my Hitachi Magic Wand when I feel the need for some adventure in the bedroom.

“You know what?” Sloane moved the cursor to the Log Out icon. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.” Just when she was about to click on the icon, Harper’s words came swimming up to the surface of her consciousness—Open yourself up to new possibilities, and maybe, just maybe, you might get your happily-ever-after.

Sloane lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. “Harper, you’re not even here, and you’re messing with my head.” She looked at the monitor and saw she had a million questions to answer before she completed her profile.

She inhaled a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.”

The questionnaire was exasperating. She couldn’t believe it went so far as to ask her to select what she’d do if she won the state lottery. How about all of the above? Sheesh. Sloane used the Eeny meeny miny moe rhyme to choose an answer, since all of the above wasn’t one of the options.

Twenty minutes later, Sloane completed the online form and paid the subscription fee. She took her shower and was just about to wrap the bath towel around her body, when she heard the doorbell. She wasn’t in the mood for visitors. Not when she needed to get ready to head out in a few minutes. The NHL games attracted large crowds, so everyone knew how important it was to arrive there early to get the coveted seats. Whoever was outside continued to press the doorbell, making Sloane more and more irritated by the second.

“Enough already, I’m coming,” Sloane muttered. She dried her skin briskly. Who could possibly be disturbing her peace this early on a Sunday morning? Don’t people understand the concept of weekends? It’s Sunday, for crying out loud. She rushed to her drawer and grabbed some clothing, along with her under-things. It didn’t seem as if Sloane could put her clothes on fast enough for her impatient, unwelcome guest.

By the time Sloane reached the hallway, the shrill sounds of the doorbell seemed to touch the most sensitive part of her nerves. She barely restrained herself from shoving her fist into her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. Sloane opened the door, not too gently. Belatedly, she thought how foolish it was to not check the peephole before opening the door. When she saw the man standing before her, her last-minute fear vanished.

The first thing that caught her attention was the width of his shoulders. It was one of the things about a man’s physique that got her going. Sloane believed only other full-figured women would understand the rare delight she felt in the moment, to be standing next to a man with such broad shoulders. Sloane was sure she would feel protected, and oh-so-delicate, if he wrapped his arms around her. It was a sensation she didn’t often enjoy with the opposite sex. It would feel so good to be an elf, a dainty little thing, needing protection, in his presence. Sloane mentally shook herself out of the fixation on the man’s shoulders, and allowed her eyes to track upwards.

“What the—” Her voice trailed off as she peered into cyan-blue eyes. She felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head, as she looked into the all-too-familiar crooked, dimpled smile of the man who’d haunted her naughtiest dreams for ages.

“Blake?”

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*****ENTER THE CONTEST for a chance to win a copy of The Right Kind of Love!****

It’s simple!

Leave a comment, along with your email address, below. 
Contest ends 1/10/2014 11:59 EST!!! The winner will be contacted via email, so don’t forget to leave your email address!!!! 

About the Author: 

Roxy Wilson is a self-professed junkie whose excessive consumption of traditional and electronic books is legendary.

As a graduate with a degree in Education, she writes blogs which help readers to think critically about and appreciate poetry. In July, 2012, however, she decided to delve into the world of writing romance stories.

When she is not reading or writing, she spends her time cooking, listening to music and visiting the various islands of the Caribbean.

Website     Facebook     FB Fan Page     Goodreads     Twitter

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter and follow this blog!

MJ

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#GuestPost! Madison Knight is back! Giveaway with @Carolyn_Arnold

Looking for a great murder mystery? Check out The Madison Knight Series!

****In celebration of the release of Found Innocent you can enter for your chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card. You can enter as many times as you like and various ways. The contest lasts until October 31st.****

Enter here >>> http://carolynarnold.net/FoundInnocent.html#FIExtras

MK-Web-Header-961-x-588

If you haven’t already, meet Madison Knight, the chocolate-loving detective, who is determined to solve murder and find justice for the victims—even if that means coming into contact with the sight of blood.

However, in Found Innocent, the latest release in the series (releasing October 16th!), she doesn’t have to face too messy of a crime scene, at least in one sense. What she does have to deal with is whether or not she’s willing to jeopardize departmental relationships and cross the wall of blue.

FIHere, this is what it’s about:

There’s one code when it comes to the wall of blue…and Madison Knight may have to cross it.

 Any good cop knows you never report a brother for mishandling a case or accuse him of misconduct, but in order to find justice, Madison may not have a choice.

Lacy Rose had one goal for her twentieth birthday—to be found innocent of past sins—but her life is cut short.

When Lacy’s remains are found in a garden and the investigation becomes connected to a closed case, Madison must face her past. The lead detective on that case was Madison’s ex-fiancé. At the risk of jeopardizing departmental relationships, and churning up the attention of an old flame at the same time, Madison must push hard before the guilty are found innocent.

 

Excerpt, Chapter 1:

 

“He didn’t do it!”

The hysterical shouting pulled Madison’s attention from her monitor to a woman rushing toward her.

The station was supposed to be quiet today. Sunday. She wasn’t required to be there, and that made it the perfect day to dig into her cold case.  She was so close to getting answers.

With one more longing look at her screen, Madison rose from her chair and held up her hands to stop the woman.

“Detective Knight.” She stated this as if they had met before.

Officer Ranson, the female officer who manned the front desk, came up behind them. “Come on—”

Another officer brushed past Ranson and slipped his hands under the woman’s arms. “Let’s go.”

He pulled on her, but she stayed still. Her eyes steadied on Madison.

“Please help me.” She attempted to shake loose from the officer’s grip.

Her frown lines were deep burrows, her eyes were sunken, and the flesh around them was puffy.  She appeared to be rough-edged, but there was something desperate about her, and she didn’t seem to be a threat to the lives of anyone here.

“I’ve got this,” Madison said.

“All right, your call.”  The male officer let go of the woman, and he and Ranson left.

“I saw your face in the paper.” The woman held up the Stiles Times. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Her lashes were caked with mascara, and she blinked slowly. Madison wondered if the cosmetic had sealed her eyes shut.

Madison passed a glance to the paper. It captured a moment she wished to forget. A day when she had been forced to speak in front of a crowd and to take pride in the job she had done. The thing was, though, a good cop couldn’t care less about the recognition.

The woman sobbed, yet her tears didn’t affect her makeup. “He wouldn’t do this…”

Madison summoned patience.  A list of envelope-printing companies—which could prove to be a vital link in the chain of evidence against the Russians—would be on her monitor, right now.

She took a deep breath, passed another glance to her computer, and turned back to the woman.  “Come with me.”

Madison kept the woman to the side of her. Her first impression was the woman didn’t pose a threat, but she still wasn’t willing to sacrifice her back by leading the way into the room.

Inside, Madison gestured to a chair.

The woman dropped her red bag heavily on the table. It was large enough to serve as a duffel bag. She pulled off her jean jacket, folded it over the back of the chair, and revealed a pink sweater that displayed more cleavage than Madison could ever hope to see on herself. The woman went rooting through the duffel bag and she stuffed a stick of gum in her mouth.  She worked at chopping it into a soft, pliable distraction. It snapped in her mouth.

“Let’s start with your name—”

“Vilma with an ‘i’. Vilma Thorne, well, it would have been. My God, Kev!” She raised her face upward as if calling out to a Greater Being. Her gum chewing paused only momentarily.

“Vilma—” Madison had to tune out the noise and the display of her open-mouth chewing.  “Let’s start at the beginning. Why are you here?”

Vilma stuck a finger through one of the large gold hoops dangling from her ears and leaned in.

Madison detected the blend of cheap perfume and cigarettes. Maybe—she inhaled deeper, trying not to appear obvious—it wasn’t perfume but whiskey. It was hard to discern. Her eyes appeared normal, except for the abuse of eye makeup. Besides the thick mascara, her lids were weighed with the color purple. Her pupils weren’t dilated or pinpricks.

Still, she didn’t respond to Madison’s question.

“Okay, Vilma, if you need my help, I need you to talk to me.”

Possibly this woman was on a new line of drug that disguised itself behind brilliant colors? Maybe this was a mistake and Madison should have let her get hauled away.

“My family is against what he did. But he didn’t do it!” Her voice rose, tears flowed. She stopped chewing and, sniffling, went rooting in the duffel bag again. She came out with a bunched up tissue and wiped her nose.

Madison’s tolerance level had almost reached its limit. “You keep saying he didn’t do it.  Do what?”

A tissue still pinched on the tip of her nose, Vilma said, “He didn’t kill himself…someone killed him.”

 

Interested in reading more?

Amazon US     Amazon UK     Barnes & Noble     Apple     Kobo

 

The Madison Knight Series is a clean, murder mystery series meaning mild graphic violence and language. Each book is self-contained so you can read any of the books, and out of order, if you wanted to.  Books in the series in released order: Ties that Bind, Justified, Sacrifice, Life Sentence (Prequel in which Madison has a cameo role), and Found Innocent.

 

Carolyn Author Photo 2013 Color SmallCarolyn Arnold started to take writing seriously six plus years ago when a co-worker said “tell me a story”. Since then she’s written nine novels and has plans to write many more. She has a love for the canine world and has two beagles that are affectionately named Max and Chelsea. Like her female protagonist Madison Knight, she loves her chocolate and has been known, on occasion, to speak her mind.

 

Website     Blog     Twitter     Facebook

 

 

 

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

About Me     Twitter     Facebook    Pinterest     Instagram  Google+      Goodreads     Linkedin     Email

 

#NewRelease- Exit Strategy- A Parody: The Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy by L.V. Lewis

Maybe you’ve heard of it….that novel that parodies 50 Shades of Gray, but is about a lot more than ‘the life’, 50 Shades of Jungle Fever? If not, you need to catch up!

I’m happy to share the second release of my good friend, L.V. Lewis’s second novel in The Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy, Exit Strategy! 

ExitStrategy_LVLEWIS_Ecover_final

 

Ex·it Strat·e·gy (noun) 1. A preplanned means of extricating oneself from a situation that is likely to become difficult or unpleasant. 2. The method by which a venture capitalist or business owner intends to get out of an investment that he or she has made in the past.

 

Will Keisha and Tristan exercise their elaborate EXIT STRATEGY and end their unorthodox arrangement?

Assailed by demons she thought she had conquered, Keisha Beale has uttered the words to end her tumultuous relationship with Tristan White. Separated, they grapple for a time with their personal demons. However, when their lives apart become unbearable, a credible threat brings them back together prematurely.

As they seek to discover who is responsible for the threats, several seemingly unrelated incidents throw them into a tailspin. Will Keisha’s youthful indiscretions or Tristan’s un-reconciled feelings for a former sub derail their tenuous arrangement?

In the meantime, trouble in Nathan and Jada’s paradise send dramatic ripples that hint of future difficulties in the idyllic pairing.

Nothing Ventured…

Tristan uses his vast wealth and connections to correct a gross miscarriage of justice, while Keisha makes herself utterly vulnerable to Tristan and fears he has chosen to exercise his own exit strategy.

…Nothing Gained!

Will this be the end of the indecent arrangement that became a fairy tale? Or will Keisha and Tristan reveal the trauma from their pasts so they may heal and completely embrace their relationship?

Sensual, suspenseful, and still infused with the riotous levity of Triple-G and Fairy Hoochie Mama, the Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy departs from full parody with a distinctive take on love, loyalty, sacrifice, redemption, and acceptance.

Amazon     Barnes & Nobel     iTunes     Smashwords     Kobo     Sony eBook Store

 

Excerpt: Chapter Seven

“Tell me again why you can’t stay?” Tristan says as we stand in front of the elevator.

“Because it’s just not a good idea. And I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Actually, you do,” he says. “Mrs. Naven found some things in the laundry after you left. Problem solved.” He takes both my hands and backs up into the sitting room.

“Tristan, we still have some things to sort out. Tonight was great, but I still don’t think I’m cut out to be your submissive.”

“Just my submissive, Keisha?”

I drop my head. “No. Anyone’s.”

“You’re afraid you’ll have panic attacks again, aren’t you?”

I feel like I’m about to be swallowed up by the sincere blue eyes tracking and pinning mine so effectively I can’t look away. “Yes. And I’m no use to you if I can’t endure the scenes, particularly the occasional disciplinary consequences.”

“What if there was a way you could?” His finger traces a gentle path down my cheek.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. If there was a way we could work around the panic attacks, would you come back? For good?”

“You mean until you perfect your exit strategy? That’s what you venture capitalists call it, don’t you?”

“Ah, someone’s been paying attention at our semiannual business meetings?”

“I have a rather exacting mentor who insists on being heard.”

“Asshole,” he says and pulls me close.

I place my hands on his chest in an effort to sustain some emotional equilibrium, but he doesn’t let me go. “I’m the one who’ll be ass-out when you lose confidence in your investment and decide it’s time to diversify your portfolio again.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.” He draws me closer, palming my hips, and I get his point. Pun intended. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

I slip out of his arms and put some space between us. “Chemistry has never been an issue for us, Tristan. I know your lifestyle is important to you, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up.”

The truth is, I’m hopelessly in love with a man who hasn’t given me any indication that he will ever want a real relationship. Nothing has changed on that front. He still just wants just a Dominant/submissive relationship, which might enjoy a longevity his other arrangements haven’t had, but it will eventually end.

Can I really do this? I certainly don’t think I’ll become any less in love with him over time. Reentering a sexual relationship with Tristan now would be exceedingly counterproductive to the reasons I left in the first place, but I am hard-pressed to make myself walk away again.

Tristan moves so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his skin, his breath wafting over my ear as he speaks. “We’ll take things slow—again.”

He runs a finger along my arm, and gooseflesh sprouts like ivy in its wake. I feel a pull toward him that can only be described as magnetic—my body eager to be reunited to his. Even though it could conceivably be more painful for me this time around, I’m not sure if leaving him again is within the realm of possibility. I can’t rationalize staying, but leaving becomes increasingly more difficult with each second I remain in his presence.

I turn to face him. “Slow isn’t necessarily going to keep the attacks at bay.” Or guard my heart if he decides he’s done with me.

“We’ll figure out a way to do that together.” He takes me into his arms again. “These three weeks have been  . . . just please stay.”

I look into his eyes, and all I want to do at that moment is kiss him senseless. He may not have given me a declaration of love, but somehow I know this is as close as I’m going to get with a man like Tristan White. For now.

As an answer, I stand on my tiptoes, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him with everything in me.

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Master w Whip (1)

L. V. Lewis doesn’t have the financial means of Tristan White, but she wouldn’t want readers to go away from this new release empty handed, so she’s giving all readers the chance to win some fabulous prizes.

This time there are too many to list, but you can read the list and “Like” or “Follow” the Authors participating in my Release Day to enter the attached rafflecopter giveaway!

The giveaway will run from now until November 28, so like and follow my friends, then tweet about the giveaway daily to increase your odds of winning!

The giveaway will run from October 29th – November 28th.

During the week of October 29th – November 5th, Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever will be on sale for $.99!

giveaway-time

 

 

DISCLAIMER:  If for some reason the book doesn’t load on all the platforms by the release date, this will be due to circumstances beyond my control. I apologize in advance for any snafus that might occur.

 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

L. V. Lewis has one foot in South Georgia and the other in North Florida. She’s been blessed with a husband who’s put up with her for a lot of years and has given birth to four children, two of whom she has raised to adulthood and one to near adulthood. She delights in her almost empty nest status so much that she writes the kinkiest novels she can conjure up.

L. V. Lewis’s Exhaustive List of Contact Info:

 Email: lv.lewis148@gmail.com

 GoodReadsTwitterFacebookThe Block, & Pinterest

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

About Me     Twitter     Facebook    Pinterest     Instagram  Google+      Goodreads     Linkedin     Email

 

 

A Fun Way to Learn How to Write From the Male and Female POV and Perspective- Part 2

Pad of Paper & PenDid you miss yesterday’s video share and breakdown on writing POV? If so, visit this link before you continue!

A Fun Way to Learn How to Write From the Male and Female POV and Perspective- Part 1

Now to pick up where we left of….

PERSPECTIVE: the state of one’s ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship

(Definitions via dictionary.com)

Now that you have determined what character’s POV is will be used and when, it’s time to determine how much information will be shared by that character and when.

As the definition above says, perspective is the story according to what a character sees, hears, feels, and experiences. Character A can have a totally different view of the same events than Character B, as seen in the Date Night video.

Let’s revisit Couple A:

THE BREAK DOWN:

HER POV: The Date SUCKED!

Woman A was looking forward to a romantic interlude. She did her hair and make-up, took the time to prepare a meal, and set the table. She expected her date to arrive looking nice, probably bearing a vase of flowers, and taking the time to appreciate her appearance and the meal. Next would have come some small talk, flirting, and no doubt, some personal fun time.

What did she get?

A quick hug, no compliments on her appearance or the meal. Instead he made a beeline for the food, woofed it down without any conversation besides grunts that seemed to ruin her appetite. And when it came to fun time…well, let’s just say Mr. Happy was there and back again in less than 3 seconds, or as she said, before she could unhook the back her dress. And to top it all off, he finds his way to her bed and passes out from what has to be over eating and rapid blood loss to the brain.

His POV: IT was AMAZING!

Man A wanted exactly what he got: A good looking woman who cooked for him (free food), had nothing to say, and stood there long enough for him to get his rocks off. Oh yeah, let’s not forget the comfy bed. In his eyes, major score!! And he got to leave with his needs satisfied in time to watch the big game at home without interruption.

THE BREAKDOWN

The characters depicted in this portion of the video didn’t have a back story as Man B did, so there is no way to know how their previous experiences affected them. But what you do get is the perspectives of a man and woman who experience the same events.  She thought everything sucked, while he had the time of his life. All of this from the same scene.

How can you incorporate this type of storytelling in a scene in your novel?

This was a challenge I faced when writing my first novel, A Heart Not Easily Broken. My stories are told using First Person POV voice and feature the viewpoint of both the male and female protagonist. Each chapter is told from whomever’s POV tells the most important points throughout the story. There are a few times when a third persons POV is shared in order to present an outsiders perspective and introduce the back story of the heroine in the next novel, Jaded. There comes a point in the story when each of the characters previous experiences intersect into one scene. And in this scene what happens next comes from each person’s view point based on the information they have received and how they see things happening around them.

I hope this gives you a useful outlook on how you can incorporate Point of View and Perspective in your work!

Chapter 37

(Yasmine’s POV)

“Mmm, that feels good, don’t stop.”

Javan’s large hand moved slowly, massaging my back. Even though we’d made love twice, the feel of his hands on my body ignited me like the first time. “So what do you think about June?”

His fingers froze. “For what?”

I rolled over on my back. He looked delicious. His thick dreads hung loose and masked his face. My eyes tracked to parted lips that waited for action, his deep penetrating gaze heavy with desire. I bit my lip as my thigh brushed over his arousal.

I glided my fingers over a handful of locks as he leaned down and kissed me deeply. I loved the way our lips locked together. They felt like heaven and sin as his kiss moved down and worked my chin, my throat, and my breasts.

“Oh, no,” I giggled. “You’re not avoiding this conversation. What do you think about a June wedding?”

Javan regarded me with eyes so filled with desire he looked confused at the topic at hand. His head ­ both of them ­ were focused on one thing.

His eyebrows creased. “Yasmine, that soon?”

“Javan, that’s nine months away. There’s so much to do. I’ve got to find a place for the wedding and reception. We’ve got to come up with a guest list. I’ve got to find a dress for the girls and for me. And we’ve got to find someplace to live. Both of us have roommates so moving in together is not an option. And, oh, God, we haven’t met each other’s parents yet.”

The expression on his face was comical. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, baby, it’s work to get married. But once we are, the benefits are…” I grinned wickedly. “Let me show you.” I pushed him on his back and straddled him.

“I like this part.” His voice went deep as he grabbed hold of my hips.

Our tongues were fighting their private war when heavy banging on the door startled us.

“Didn’t you put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?” His annoyance mirrored my own.

“Yes.” My employees knew not to disturb me unless it was an emergency. Such as the hotel being on fire. “This better not be about the computers,” I mumbled and climbed off Javan to grab the guest robe from the bathroom.

Javan lay in bed smiling. His thick biceps were pronounced as he shifted his arms behind his head.

The banging continued.

“Go get ‘em, baby.” He chuckled.

I reached the door, twisted the lock, and yanked it open. “What the hell do you…Brian?” He had a murderous expression on his face. “What’s wrong? Is Ebony okay?” I pulled the lapels of my robe tightly across my chest.

“No, she isn’t.” His lips were drawn tight, his brows dropped low. “Where is he?”

I was really confused. Brian should have been with Ebony, but she didn’t seem to be around.

“Why do you─”

“Move.”

I stood firm. “No, not until you─” Brian shoved past me and headed for the bed where Javan lay.

“Your ass is mine,” he growled.

*  *  *  *

(Ebony’s POV)

“Do you want me to call the cops?” Kaitlyn asked. She held her cell phone in one hand and gripped the door handle with the other.

I drove wildly, trying my best to catch Brian at the hotel before someone got hurt. I struggled to keep from running red lights.

“Come on, come on…” My palm ached from pounding the steering wheel.

“Never mind. The way you’re drivin’ the police will just follow us in.”

“Kaity, I don’t know what to do. This is all my fault. I should have said something as soon as it happened.”

“Why didn’t you?” I saw her turn to face me in my peripheral.

I glanced at her, then burned rubber the moment the light turned green.

“Honestly, I didn’t think she’d stay with him this long. You know how Yasmine is, always with a new guy every few months. Brian didn’t need the distraction while he was on the road. He would have dropped everything and come home; it would have ruined his career. Plus, I was scared he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s just plain stupid,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Another quick glance revealed hurt feelings on her face. “We’re friends, Ebony. I could have helped you. You shouldn’t have dealt with this by yourself.”

Another wave of guilt hit me. “Honestly, Kaity, I didn’t want you to keep it from Yasmine. It wouldn’t have been fair to you. I’m sorry.”

She reached over and gripped my hand. “And you were pregnant?”

I sighed. “I don’t know, I could have been. Before Brian left we had a moment…and well, both of us were willing to accept the consequences. The next night Javan raped me and didn’t use protection. It scared me. I thought about what would happen if I ended up pregnant and the baby was his instead of Brian’s. I couldn’t live with that, so I did what I had to do. And I hate myself for it.”

Her grip tightened. “God, Ebony, I am so sorry. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

“What I need is to stop Brian from doing something stupid and destroying his career. I’ve got to get to him. I need him.”

“I’m gonna call the police.” She placed the call with her free hand.

The lights of the hotel loomed in the distance. I released her hand to grip the wheel and pushed the pedal to the floor.

*  *  *  *

(Brian’s POV)

“What the fuck, man!” Javan scrambled naked from the bed and reached for his pants. He hopped around on one leg to get them on. Only the king-sized bed separated us.

My mind went all over the place taking everything in. The fact Yasmine gripped my arm and shouted at me was insignificant to the hum of anger that buzzed in my ear.

I took one look at the bed and felt sick to my stomach.

This was the same room where Ebony and I spent the weekend. The room she cried in the moment I opened the door.

And then it hit me, a full shot to the chest.

She’d made love to me after she was been raped.

How was that even possible? How could she want to be with me after that violent act? After having her will of what happened to her body stripped from her?

The hatred for the man I considered my friend for the past ten years blazed out of control. The logical part of my brain clicked off and went primal.

I scrambled across the bed, grabbed him, and threw him against the wall with force I prayed felt twenty times worse than what he’d done to Ebony. I held him in place and with my free arm, reached back as far as I could and pounded his face.

“Brian! Oh, my God! Stop, you’re hurting him!” Yasmine grabbed my fisted arm and put her full weight on it, slowing me down.

“You son of a bitch! How could you do that to her? Why?” I got a few more licks in and a kick to his groin before Yasmine managed to knock me off balance.

Javan slipped out of my grasp and slid down the wall, groaning and holding his sack. It wouldn’t be long before his jaw, eye, and lips were black and blue. The sight of blood pouring out of his nose and cut lip gave me a small amount of satisfaction, but it wasn’t even close to what I wanted to do.

“Oh, no, Javan, baby…” Yasmine pushed past me, ripping the sheet from the bed to blot the blood running down his face. “Brian, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Whatever she said, the bitch is lying,” he spat out along with blood.

“Call her bitch one more time and you’ll be picking teeth off the floor,” I growled while I paced the room. I wanted to push Yasmine out of the way and get to him again, but there was no way I’d put my hands on her.

“What the hell is going on?” she shouted.

“Brian’s woman is a liar.” Javan struggled to get up.

Yasmine looked at both of us in confusion. “Ebony? What are you talking about?” When Javan didn’t supply an answer, she turned to me.

“He raped her.”  Saying the words again shot a pain to my stomach and chest. Anger like I never felt before flared before my eyes. I wanted to do nothing more than grab Javan’s throat and keep him from breathing.

Yasmine’s eyes flashed in disbelief.

Javan moved to get up again.

“Sit your ass back down before I put it down for good,” I warned.

Yasmine turned to him, an expression of confusion on her face.

“Your girl is a ‘ho. She wanted me to─”

I stepped over to give him another helping of personal justice, but Yasmine beat me to it by giving him something akin to a bitch slap. His head spun around, dreads swinging through the air as his head hit the wall. I wanted to punch his teeth in, but her slap sufficed for now. “Don’t talk about her like that. Why would Brian burst in here and say that? Did you rape her?” she asked.

I could not see her face, but her voice sounded pained.

“Because the bitch─”

Yasmine’s hand shot out again, but this time he caught it and twisted her wrist. She yelled in pain.

“Don’t ever hit me again, bitch,” Javan growled.

I got in his face in two strides. “Let her go,” I said through gritted teeth.

My hands fisted in a handful of his dreads as I snatched him up off the ground, thankful for the excuse to exact my revenge. He released her, shoving her away; she stumbled to the floor. Javan swung at me, his fist connected with my face and doubled back for my gut. Adrenaline pumped through my veins; I didn’t feel a thing.

His next swing missed as I dodged, leaned down, and rammed my head into his chest. I wrapped my hands around his waist and slammed him back into the wall. He pounded my back while I retaliated, throwing punch after punch into his gut.

“Brian!”

In the midst of the yelling, grunting, and crashing of hotel furniture as we fought, Ebony’s voice rang crystal clear in the room. I managed to turn my head enough to see her standing horrified in the doorway with Kaitlyn on her heels.

####

Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

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5 Prince Publishing #NewRelease- Unforgiving Plains by Christine Steendam!

UnforgivingPlains1

Fiction/Contemporary Romance/Western

Rayna Fields is a successful realtor in Calgary, but when she receives a
visit from a lawyer, her whole life is turned upside down.

 She hasn’t seen or heard from her father in twenty years. Not since her

mother packed her and their belongings in a truck and drove off Fieldstone
Ranch. Now, she has to make her way to Foremost, Alberta, the “wild
west” of Canada and deal with the dilapidated ranch that was left to her
by her estranged father.

 Struggling with her feelings towards her father who has passed on, a

ranch in financial distress, and other problems that crop up along the way,
Rayna turns to the one person willing to help; Vince, the hired hand. But will
his past destroy everything she’s worked towards? And will she be able to
forgive, and find beauty in Alberta’s wild plains?

 Amazon      5 Prince Publishing 

Excerpt: 

Rayna reached for the radio dial and turned up the music as her car flew down Red Coat Trail at 110 km per hour. She had left the mountains far behind her, and the road spanning in front had the slow rise and fall of hills that spoke of their own special majesty. To anyone else driving through Alberta, they might have been struck by the beauty, but it was lost on
Rayna. Her mind was far away, preoccupied with thoughts that didn’t involve sight-seeing.

Slowing down just enough to make a turn, she directed her car onto a gravel road. Consulting the written directions on her passenger seat, Rayna saw that it was a straight shot to the ranch from here. Just a few more miles and her long journey would be over, It didn’t bring her any relief.

Driving down the gravel road brought with it no memories. Rayna didn’t really know what to expect, but she had thought there would be more than this nothingness, not even the slightest hint of sentiment or twinge of recognition. Nothing here looked familiar, and yet, this had been her home for the first five years of her life.

News of her father’s death, if he could really be called that, had come last week in the form of legal documents. Craig Fields
had died at the young age of 52 from a heart attack. “Worked himself to death most likely,” was what Carol, her mother, had said. Regardless, he had left everything to Rayna, his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in twenty years. It had been a shock for her. Carol had just nodded and encouraged her with a slight smile. He was trying to do right by her, her mother had offered. Great time to start, thought Rayna, bitterly, as she continued driving down the gravel road that seemed to stretch on forever.

Rayna never knew what had happened between her parents. There was no love lost between them; that was certain. Her mother hadn’t wasted a single tear upon hearing of her ex-husband’s death. And Rayna followed her example; having lived her life without a father, she felt no loss. It might as well have been a stranger that had died for all the emotion she felt.

Now she found herself driving unfamiliar gravel roads near Foremost Alberta. She cringed as gravel pinged off her car, likely peppering the paint with little chips. A cloud of dust followed her, wafting over the rolling hills. She had driven through farmland, but now, as she entered the plains, she was in ranching territory. Wild prairie grass swayed in the light breeze and the occasional antelope bounding across the coulees lent the area an exotic air that could not be ignored. She hadn’t seen
much of this in the province she had grown up in. She was more familiar with the busy city of Calgary and the untamed mountains of Banff and Canmore. She suspected the Alberta plains held their own form of wildness.

Twenty years ago she had left, her mother loading her and their belongings in the truck and driving away. They never once looked back. Her mother, Carol, had always said that the people that lived here were a special breed: hard working and secluded. It wasn’t unheard of to be snowed in or to have roads washed out and be stranded on a farm or ranch for weeks at a time. But they were happy, content with life. Watching the passing scenery Rayna wondered if it had been the land that her mother had run from in all its beauty and hidden trials.

Rayna slowed her car down at the sight of a weather beaten sign swaying on its arch. The words Fieldstone Ranch could barely be made out. “I hope that’s not an indication of the shape the rest of the place is in,” she mumbled under her breath.

Fenced in pasture bordered the driveway that had no visible end, but after cresting a couple coulees the house could be seen on the next ridge. Horses grazed at the bottom of a valley and a wide, lazy stream flowed through the middle.

Despite the gravel dust cloud that chased her, Rayna couldn’t help but feel awe over the beauty of her father’s property.

Pulling into the yard, it became apparent that the sign at the entrance to the ranch was an accurate warning to the shape of the rest of the property. The paint on the white clapboard house was peeling and she could see where the sunbaked shingles were peeling back. The barn wasn’t in any better shape; boards were loose and falling off and the door hung at an angle, attesting to the fact it wouldn’t close. Any beauty she had thought she had seen was gone. Now all she saw was a
rundown home that held very little worth. And to top it all off, it was now her problem.

Rayna parked the car and stepped out. The air was crisp and clean here despite the early summer heat, and the chirping birds made relaxing background music. The sound of her car door slamming announced her arrival, and a dog ran out from behind the barn, barking and jumping.

“Down!” shouted Rayna, moving away from the dirty animal’s bounding paws.

The dog seemed to comply and left her alone but followed close to her feet as if to supervise while she walked across the yard. Gravel crunched beneath her heels as she walked towards the house, and not for the first time, she wished she had worn more comfortable shoes, but she had come straight from work and hadn’t thought to change.

She hesitantly opened the door. It squealed loudly in protest on rusty hinges and made Rayna shiver despite the warm weather. Stepping in, she looked around. The house was in good repair inside, but it was messy. Dust could be seen floating in the sunbeams, layering the windowsills and every other unused surface. Dirty dishes filled the kitchen sink and mail lay strewn across the kitchen table. Rustic oak floors had muddy paw and boot prints and various food spills. It was a typical bachelor’s residence.

Rayna wandered around the small house, trailing her hand across surfaces, picking up dust on her fingertips. She tried to remember something about this place that had once been her home, anything, but she might have well been walking these floors for the first time.

Opening doors, she peered into two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. It would take a lot of repairs and a little seller’s flare. Something like, “a quaint country home with lots of character.” It sounded nice, but basically meant it was a dump.

Rayna walked back to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. She’d need to look around a bit more, get a feel for the place, but she needed a break first. Searching through the cupboards she managed to find a clean mug and some dusty tea bags with no label.

Mystery tea, lovely, she thought, a wry smile lighting her face in an attempt to stay positive. At least the sparse cupboards meant she wouldn’t have to pack up much.

The kettle whistled, sounding like a sick, dying bird.

Pouring the boiling water over her mystery tea bag, Rayna took her mug and sat at the kitchen table. Who was this man who had abandoned her? And why had he left all his earthly possessions to her? Perhaps it was out of guilt, or there really was no one else to give it to. She knew nothing of her father; he could have been a hermit for all she knew. A small part of her had thought that he might have re-married and had more kids which was why he had stayed out of her life, but all the evidence
said otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” boomed a voice from behind her.

Rayna jolted, rudely ripped from her thoughts, surprised that someone else was here. The sudden movement caused her to tip over her mug, spilling hot tea all over her lap. She jumped up, shrieking in surprise and pain, trying to brush the burning liquid off with no success.

As suddenly as the burning sensation had begun it was gone and replaced with the cold wet of water. Rayna stood still, in shock, water dripping from her shirt and skirt. She looked up at the man who seemed to have lost all anger and now wore a concerned look on his face.  An empty bowl hung uselessly from his hand. Recovering from her shock, Rayna glared at the man. “What is your problem?” she shouted. “Sneaking up on me and then throwing water all over me?”

The man grinned and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

“Who are you and what are you doing here? This is my property.”

“So you’re the daughter.” Understanding lit his eyes. Pulling off an old, weather beaten leather glove, he extended his hand. Rayna gingerly accepted it, feeling his firm grip and rough skin chafe against her own.

“The name is Vince. I’m the hired hand.”

“Rayna. I suppose I should thank you for sticking around and keeping things in order for me.”

Vince smiled and Rayna knew the bitterness in her voice had not gone unnoticed. “I’m not looking for any thanks, just doing my job. How about you get something dry on and I give you a tour of your new place? And I’d put on some more omfortable shoes if I were you.”

Rayna grimaced, she had come here to see the place, but she didn’t really want to go with this cowboy. “I left all my things at my hotel in town. I had no intention of staying here,” she said, looking for an excuse.

“Well then, perhaps we can rustle something up, if you’re interested in the tour, that is.”

He just wasn’t letting it go. Couldn’t he take a hint? “How about I come back tomorrow morning? I’m a bit tired from the drive up.”

“Fair enough.”

Rayna forced a smile, glad he had let it go, and walked past Vince and out the door. He turned to follow her, jogging past to open the car door. Great, a gentleman. Just what she needed.

Crouching in, she fastened her seat belt and looked up at the dirty man leaning on the door of her Audi.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Vince nodded and stood up. “Drive safe,” he said as he shut the door.

Rayna whipped her car around, eager to be gone from the ranch and all the questions that came with it. She’d be more than happy to sell the place and be done with it, forever erasing her father from her life.

Arriving back in the town of Foremost a half hour later, she parked her car outside the small motel and retreated to her room.

It was clean, that much could be said, but other than that it was a cheap motel room and nothing more. Rayna wasn’t exactly thrilled about staying here for the week or two it would take to set her father’s affairs in order, but in a small town like Foremost, there weren’t exactly a lot of options.

Changing out of her damp clothes, she jumped into the shower to wash off the layer of gravel dust that seemed to suck all the moisture from her skin.

It wasn’t late, but Rayna was exhausted. She had worked all morning and part of the afternoon before making the four hour drive out here. But, as much as she wanted to fall into bed, she needed to find something to eat. The hotel had a small bar attached and feeling inclined to stay close to home, Rayna decided it was a good enough option.

Slipping on some clean, dry clothes, she walked around the outside of the building to the front where she entered the dimly lit bar.

It was a lot fuller than she expected for seven or so in the evening, but there was likely no better place to go once the day’s work was done. Her short drive through town certainly hadn’t shown any evidence of anything better.

Finding a seat in a far booth in an attempt to avoid human contact, Rayna waited for a server to appear.

A bubbly blonde with a swaying ponytail came over. She handed Rayna a menu with a broad smile.

“Will anyone be joining you?” she asked.

Rayna shook her head. “It’s just me.”

“Well then, can I get you something to drink?”

Rayna perused the drink menu for a moment. “I’ll have a glass of the chardonnay and a chicken burger.”

“Sure thing. Fries or Caesar on the side?”

“Caesar.”

“I’ll be right out with that then.”

The waitress walked away, Rayna watching her as she stopped and greeted a table full of boys, likely friends of hers.

Rayna sighed and wished the waitress had offered her water to start. Anything to quench her dry throat. There was no moisture here. Everything felt dusty. Even her skin was starting to feel too small for her body, only adding to her feelings of discomfort, and she’d only been in the ass end of Alberta for a few hours.

It took a good ten minutes to get her wine and the waitress promised again that she’d be right out with her food. Rayna smiled and nodded, but didn’t put much faith in the waitress’ promise. In her experience bar food was never fast. By the time her burger came,

Rayna had finished her wine and just about used up her last drop of patience. She hated this little town more and more with every passing minute. Already it felt like she had been here two hours too long.

“Anything else I can get you?”

Rayna was tempted to get another glass of wine but the thought of delaying her acquaintance with the motel bed had her shaking her head. “No thanks.”

Finishing off her burger and grudgingly admitting to herself that it was actually quite good, she settled her bill and headed back to her room.

Rayna lay in bed, attempting to drift off to sleep, but despite her exhaustion, she was plagued with thoughts of her father’s ranch. How would she stage it? What could she ask for it? She had no real idea what ranches were worth or what the market was for them. And what would she do with the cattle? Did she sell them with the property? Horses? So many questions, some of which she hoped Vince could answer. But that was tomorrow, and tonight the only answer she needed was the one to her prayer for sleep.

####

christine1-New PicAbout the Author:

Christine has been writing stories since she could put pen to paper and form words. Now, fifteen years later, her debut novel is scheduled to be released and her second book is in the works.

Christine has spent the better half of her life owning and working with horses, and these four legged companions often find their way into her stories. After all, no work of women’s fiction would be complete without a horse or two. 😉

She currently makes her home in the center of the world—no, really. Look at an atlas.

Website     Facebook     Twitter     Email

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

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#FeatureFriday- Still the Best Woman for The Job (Book 1 of the Jenkins Family Series) by Sharon C. Cooper

stillthebestwoman - 200x300

Joint heir to the largest construction company in the state of Ohio, master plumber, Toni (TJ) Jenkins has been groomed to behave in a way that is befitting of the respected Jenkins’ family name. But after she breaks up with the only man she’s ever loved, to protect a secret she holds close to her heart, poor decisions lead her down a path of destruction that risks ruining the reputation of the company her family has worked hard to build.

 Cincinnati police officer, Craig Logan, knows Toni is the woman for him. They’ve been apart for months, but when they run into each other at a party, the passion between them sizzles stronger than ever. She says she can’t handle dating a cop, but he senses that something else keeps her from rushing back into his arms. Craig wants her to be his wife, and he’ll do whatever it takes to prove no matter what she’s hiding, she’s still the best woman for the job.

 Amazon

Excerpt:

Toni leaned back and narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“You heard me.” Craig readjusted Ronald against the wall, ignoring her date’s mumbling. “If you want me to help you get this bum home – to his house,” he emphasized, “then you have to agree to have dinner with me Friday night.”

Toni hesitated. Intense hazel eyes sprinkled with specks of green and laced with a light brown stared at her, awaiting her response. She would love to have dinner with him, heck, she’d love to spend the rest of her life with him, but there lay the problem. Craig already had the big house and the white picket fence, but he wanted the wife and the three-point-five kids to complete the fairytale. The problem in a nutshell was that he wanted her to be a part of that dream, and she couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“I can’t believe you.” She glanced back at the bathroom door and then closed it. Returning her attention to Craig she said, “After all we’ve been through, has it really come to this? You’re going to blackmail me into having dinner with you?”

“Hey, if it means spending time with you, I’m not ashamed to do whatever I have to do. Besides, I don’t see it as blackmail. I see my request as being nothing more than a man, who is still in love with you, asking you out to dinner.” He shrugged. “But you can call it whatever you want. I do know one thing though. If you don’t make up your mind in the next five seconds, your drunk boyfriend here is going to find his ass back on the cold marble tile. So what’s it going to be, Sweetheart?”

Toni scrunched up her face and twisted her lips into a frown. Could she have dinner with Craig and then just walk away? Walk away from the only man she’s ever loved? Walk away from a man who had the ability to make her heart rate triple and her body sizzle with just a look. Heck, occupying the same space with him now, his hot sexy body only inches from her and his unfaltering gaze appearing to look right through her was almost more than she could handle. How in the world would she be able to break bread with him and not want to jump his bones?

She glanced at Ronald. She knew Craig well enough to know that if she said no, Ronald would hit the floor quicker than a hooker’s panties and Toni would be right back where she started. She wouldn’t be able to hide out in the bathroom for much longer, and the last thing she wanted was for her grandfather to get a hold of Ronald, or her for that matter. God! Why me?

            She finally threw up her hands. “Oh, all right. I’ll go out to dinner with you Friday, but I’m not going to enjoy myself!” 

####

About the Author: 

Bestselling author, Sharon C. Cooper, lives in Atlanta with her husband and enjoys reading, writing, and rainy days. She writes sweet and contemporary romance, as well as romantic suspense. Sharon is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), board member and member of Georgia Romance Writers (GRW), and a member of the Page a Day Writers Group. To read more about Sharon and her novels, visit www.sharoncooper.net.

Website     Facebook     Twitter     Subscribe to her blog     Goodreads 

 

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog! 

MJ

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Wanna get your chat on???

No Sample Sunday today, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have something for you!

Tomorrow is the last day to enter the contest to win an eBook copy of Lonely Heart (Book 3 of The Butterfly Memoirs) on the day it releases! That date will be announced on Tuesday, October 1st,  along with the winner! Good luck!

Contest and interview with Brian and Ebony of A Heart Not Easily Broken! 

This evening I will be participating in a phone chat with the Real Readers Real Words Facebook group! This should be a lot of fun! If your not a member of the 3RW, no worries! You can still participate! Call and listen in! If you have questions you’ve been dying to ask, post them to my Facebook Author Page and I’ll try my best to answer them on the air!

7:30 PM EST!!! 605-475-4000 code 126643#

Hope to ‘see’ you there!

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

About Me     Twitter     Facebook    Pinterest     Instagram  Google+      Goodreads     Linkedin     Email

 

Getting to Know Your Community: Studio Steffanie, Wealth and Wellness Coach

It is good to know the people in your community. Recently, I had the chance to meet wealth and wellness coach, Steffanie Haggins, aka StudioSteffanie at the Author’s Workshop held by The Virtuous Women. Listening to her personal experiences and and why she wrote her book, Image is Everything: What Does Your Image Say About You? was an eye opening experience.

Studio StephanieGet to know Stephanie in her words: 

“Life coaching is a very powerful tool that helps many people achieve their fitness, personal and professional goals. Listening to my clients’ needs, understanding their anxieties, and communicating effectively are paramount to helping clients change behaviors of any kind.

I guide my clients and show them that they have the power to overcome their own obstacles and uncover roadblocks that are hindering their progress.

I discover their unique needs and provide accountability for things that no one else usually cares about, which is why it’s so easy to let those habits slip. Coaching has made a tremendous difference in clarifying their goals, needs, and values in helping these clients recreate the life they want from the foundation up. They are no longer aimlessly wandering around unsure of where to go from where they are now. They have uncovered what matters most to them and have a clear strategy for getting there.

Clients tell me every day that it makes a huge difference to know that I am there to walk along with them. It’s extremely rewarding.  I’m honored to be sponsored by DeKalb County Public Library to offer free workshops every month. ”

Next Classes to be held:

10/17/13- Senior Fitness & Flexibility

10/19/2013- An Introduction to Yoga and Meditation

For more information, call 678-330-8139. 

41kaI8N7RQL._SX258_PJlook-inside-v2,TopRight,1,0_SH20_BO1,204,203,200_

This is a cool & effective self-help workbook for developing the Diva within you * Maximize your opportunities with a higher self-esteem * Embrace your femininity * Discover your talents * Learn to forgive yourself and others * Stress-reduction tips * Take control of your emotions * Overcome your fears * Capitalize your finances * Live a healthy lifestyle * Recognize how to handle bullies and haters * You are truly unique!

Amazon

About Steffanie Haggins:

Steffanie Haggins, also known as StudioSteffanie, certified master trainer, certified yoga and meditation trainer, certified life coach, published author, and executive speaker has long held a passion for wanting to see people in their best image, which ultimately starts with a high self-esteem and living a balanced life.  It started while she was being raised in Chicago by her father, who knew nothing about how to groom and care for a young lady.  He knew he wanted the best outcome for her future.  Therefore, he enrolled her in private schools and into various charm schools and modeling schools; any and every organization that could assist her in becoming a beautiful young lady, internally as well as externally.

Throughout the years StudioSteffanie has witnessed and experienced the extraordinary benefits of being introduced to the rules of proper etiquette, speaking, and walking confidently and taking care of oneself to the best of their ability mentally, physically, and spiritually.  She is a wealth & wellness coach that practices balancing lives by reducing stress and assisting them with their journey in life.

StudioSteffanie further cultivated her passion for inspiring others and motivating them to be the best they can be while she was searching for her true passion in life, (a true entrepreneur) which is helping others help themselves become the best they can be.  Of course, this sounds cliché; however, it’s very sincere.  This has been observed over the years while StudioSteffanie has assisted models, actors, and independent artists. “I consult with them to discover their true talent and begin to assist in branding their image to prepare them for a global economy.”  –StudioSteffanie.com

She works with everyone from celebrities to politicians to the general public at large. “There are no boundaries for true inspiration and motivation. Unfortunately, there are people everywhere you turn that are truly unhappy with themselves.  They can have all the money and other materialistic items needed to make a person smile; however, they can’t truly smile until self-esteem is prevalent.  And until they truly realize the importance of a healthy lifestyle, proper nutrition, healthy relationships, and proper relaxation techniques, they will continue to be where they are.”

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MJ

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Looking for the Hottest IR Reads? Look No Further!

Romance Novels in Color

Interracial Romance is a genre that is still gaining recognition.  Readers often have a hard time finding a good book, and for IR authors, it’s just as difficult searching out readers and letting them know we’re here!

In steps Romance Novels in Color!

For Readers:

Why waste time searching through page upon page of books on Amazon or Barnes & Noble’s sites? The way the platforms are set up, you may miss a well-reviewed novel that has been buried beneath the latest new releases. And besides, who has time to sift through hundreds of reviews?

On the Romance Novels in Color site, you can instantly view the Top Rated IR Romance Novels, watch book trailers, find author giveaways, and read the latest reviews from readers!

For Authors:

We are always looking for a new place to share our work with lovers of the IR genre. Here, you have several advertising options. And let’s face it, who doesn’t want their novel to be featured or reviewed on a site like this?

Whether you’re a Reader or an Author, stop by and check it out! Sign up for the Reader and Author newsletters to stay in the loop. Don’t forget to follow the social networking links! They’re everywhere!

I’m happy to say both of my novels have been reviewed and featured on this site, and I’m happy to have earned these badges. Check out what readers have had to say!

top-rated-by-rnic

Review for A Heart Not Easily Broken (Book 1 of The Butterfly Memoirs)
Contemporary Romance, Interracial Romance, Women’s Fiction

 

 

reviewed-by-rnic

5- Star Review for Jaded (Book 2 of The Butterfly Memoirs)
Contemporary Romance, Interracial Romance, Women’s Fiction

And as always, Happy Reading!

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

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#GuestPost- A Closer Look at Miss Perfect by Nicole Dunlap

Missperfect

African American, Mystery, drama, suspense, romance.

Their desire for perfection will be shattered

Charlene Shaw embodies perfection as a highly-acclaimed actress. Within her gilded walls of beauty, she is scrambling to save her daughter, Raven, from sins she can’t even fathom. This is her self-imposed curse for abandoning Raven as a child.

 Raven Shaw is captivatingly gorgeous but burdened by a closet of skeletons. After a rough childhood, she is finally living life. Jon, her best friend and the only man she’s ever loved, has returned to her. A stalker looms just outside of reach, blackmailing her for Jon’s fortune. She’d do anything to keep this man–even if it means turning to another… Mysterious, handsome Tyriq may have the key to erase her deepest, darkest secrets forever. Yet, this savior might threaten her mind’s rationale of “happily ever after” with Jon.

 

 Excerpt:

Muscles warm, lungs hallow, Raven felt light as a feather, stepping onto the stairs at the shallow end. Slowly her lids dimmed, eyes narrowed. A pique in senses alerted her to the sound of a camera flash. She turned to the glass chairs in the back corner next to the submerged pool bar.

With his suit jacket draped over the chair next to him, Jon sat comfy-like, leaning back. He’d undone the top button of his vest, tie a shrew, peering through her camera.

At the snap of a photo, Raven’s lips bunched together. “Stop taking my picture!”

He clicked another one.

“Where have you been; to a club?” Heated, she reached over and tried to grab it.

“Uh-uh, Re-Re,” he said and she got a faint scent of alcohol from his breath.

She leaned back, looking at him through a different light. “Are you drunk?”

“Sexy,” he said, peering through the lens and took another shot.

“Shut up! You went off to work at the beginning of the week. Came back and left again. Then you had the nerve to leave a sappy message about coming home tonight. Then called to say you wouldn’t. Now you’re here! That’s bull.” Hands balled into fists, she itched to claw the half smile off his face. “Uh-huh, you had plans to come home then some slut called, and you decided to stay out. What happened, your little slut had to cancel? Your hoe couldn’t make up her mind!”

He chuckled, and she reached over to slap him. It stung her hand, but he didn’t flinch.

Jon took another picture. “Give me more ‘hood girl,’ I like that.”

“You bastard!” She tried to pummel his face. This time he grabbed her wrists and pulled her in his lap, tucking her hands behind her back. Jon dominated her with hard kisses, making her delirious. Rage momentarily forgotten.

“C’mon, Re-Re, no hitting, not just yet.” He leaned his head over, away from her untamed hand. Dominating her once more, he said, “Whoa, I haven’t had this much action since your ice skating. If I knew you’d be so stingy, I would’ve had you then and there–”

“Cheating bastard!” I’m working things out for us! Trying to make sure your image stays clean and you… Biting his shoulder, she contemplated her pending self-sacrifice.

“Do you honestly think I’ve been cheating on you?” Gone was the grin. “Look me in the eyes and tell me if you actually believe I was out with another woman?”

“No,” she whispered. I want to believe the best in you.

Hand to her chin, Jon pressed it back toward him until they were less than an inch away, and she clawed her fingers into his biceps still in limbo between adoration and anger.

“As I said, it’s been a while,” he said softly, licking his lips. “Months. I thought pregnancy was supposed to–”

So what? I’m still mad.” She let her fingernails deepen. Part of her was concerned, but most of her didn’t care–she just wanted to hurt him the way she hurt while he was away. “I cooked lamb. I waited for you.”

“Is there any way you’d ever forgive me?”

She hated the drunk Jon. So cocky. Slowly, he pulled her closer, kissing her feverously as he pulled at the strings of the bikini behind her neck. She dragged his bottom lip through her teeth again and let her legs wrap around him in the chair. She wished her thighs were stronger, wanted to hold him siege. Planting kisses on the side of his mouth and down his chin, she bit him as her hands dug into the back of his neck. The bastard, versed in six different languages, whispered Italian notes that made her blood boil. The way he grabbed her behind, wanting and needing every last inch, said he was angry too.

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IMG_9924About the Author:

Nicole Dunlap holds a Bachelors Degree in Psychology and Child Development, and a Masters Degree in Counseling from Azusa Pacific University. She works for social services. She has been self dubbed the “gumbo genre” novelist, because books shouldn’t be lightly seasoned… Her stories revolve around family and relationships, women’s issues, drizzled with drama, peppered with suspense, and finished off with aromatic notes of romance. The Shaw Family Saga pays homage to dysfunctional mother-daughter relationships, with well developed characters that readers can root for; love them, hate them, cry for, and most of all, yearn to flip through the pages to the end of that character’s journey.

If this teaser excerpt enticed you to read more about the suspense of the Shaw Fmaily Saga, please check out NicoleDunlap.com Feel free to email me at nicole@nicoledunlap.com, Tweet me, message me on Facebook, and friend me on Goodreads.

 

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Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, sign up for the monthly newsletter by following this blog!

MJ

About Me     Twitter     Facebook    Pinterest     Instagram  Google+      Goodreads     Linkedin     Email