#SampleSunday- A Heart Not Easily Broken- Chapter Two…The Story Continues from Another Point of View

Although I shared this extended sample of A Heart Not Easily Broken earlier this week, some of you may have missed it. If you haven’t read the first novel in The Butterfly Memoirs series, but you’ve read the first chapter you’re probably wondering if Ebony decided to take Brian up on his offer to meet him in the VIP section of the club. I can guarantee what happens next is a surprise for not only Brian, but for Ebony as well.

Check out the next chapter told from Brian’s Point of View….

Chapter 2

I loved to work, but after spending the weekend playing late night gigs with my band, sleeping in on Monday would have been my preference, except my bills made it impossible.

Besides, laziness of any kind was not in my nature.

My cousin, Dylan, waved for my attention. “Hey, Brian, we’re done over here. Is there anything else?”

I cut off the weed whacker to appraise Dylan and Peter’s work, inhaling the smell of freshly cut grass. They did a good job clearing the yard of all the clippings. The decision to hire my young cousins for the summer paid off. Letting them handle the grunt work left me to handle the finer details, like trimming the edges of my clients’ professionally landscaped flowerbeds.

Sweat dripped from my brow, stinging my eyes. “No, we’re done. Take the bags to the curb.”

Dylan nodded before passing the message to his brother.

I removed the weed whacker’s carrying strap from around my neck, placed it in the bed of the truck, and then reached into the semi-melted ice in the cooler to retrieve a bottle of Gatorade. The liquid saturated my parched mouth. The bottle was empty in seconds.

“Heads up.” I tossed them both a bottle.

They murmured their thanks before leaning against the tailgate.

“Man, it’s hot,” Peter said. “How many yards have we done today?”

Dylan laughed. “This is the fifth one, bro.”

Peter turned to me for confirmation. I nodded and threw my empty bottle into the truck bed, adding to last week’s collection of bottles to be recycled.

“Man, how did I forget that?” Peter mumbled.

“Because your mind is still stuck three jobs ago,” Dylan replied.

Peter continued to have a look of awe on his face. I chuckled. If he got this flustered at the sight of three grown women lounging topless poolside, he was going to be dumbstruck when attending his first frat party in college.

I remembered my time spent in college. Somehow, I managed to discover my independence without screwing up too much along the way. Hot women always found their way into my dorm room once they learned I was in a band. A year after joining Diverse Nation, I got over the hype and focused on my craft instead. Being a member taught me discipline and kept me grounded with my eyes on the prize when it came to my career.

Music was my life. Cutting grass made it possible to pay the bills until my career took off.

I walked the yard one last time surveying our work. The hedges trimmed, grass cut evenly, and clippings set curbside. Mrs. Dillard would be pleased.

“Finish loading up,” I instructed, while walking up the long stone path that lead to a partially covered overhang, and rang the doorbell. The narrow strip of shade didn’t do much to ward off the sun’s oppressive heat. My attention went to the flowerbed kept near the front door. There were a few weeds growing among her flowers.

I smiled down at the older woman as the door opened. She was in her late sixties and believed in looking her best at all times. Mrs. Dillard lived next door to my parents. She’d been my first paying customer. She’d advertised my services at the monthly homeowner’s association meetings until nearly every neighbor became my customer. As a thank you, I offered her a lifetime of free yard maintenance. She refused, insisting she pay a discounted rate instead.

“Mrs. Dillard, you look young as ever.” I flashed the smile that used to earn me milk and cookies.

She laughed. “Brian, you are such a flirt. If I were thirty years younger…”

I shook my head. “Yeah, but then Mr. Dillard wouldn’t want me to come back around.”

“True, oh, well.” She stepped out onto her porch to survey the yard. “A great job as always, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Unable to resist, I asked, “When are you going to let me weed your garden? It would be free of charge.”

“Never. I love to have my hands in the dirt. You handle the rest of the yard. I’ll handle my weeds.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I accepted the check. “Thank you. We’ll see you in two weeks.”

Sweaty bare feet hanging out the passenger side window greeted me when I reached the truck.

“Peter, I am not going to be held responsible by Aunt Gina if your foot gets cut by road debris.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, sliding his feet back inside. “It’s hot as h-e-double-hockey sticks out here. My feet were on fire in those boots.”

Now that his feet were inside, it made sense he’d hung them outside. Telling him to climb into the bed of my truck didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Aunt Gina’s not around. You can drop your choirboy act, and say ‘hell’. It’ll be our secret.”

“Yeah, right. My mom probably has my boots bugged. She’d come home and slap me upside the head after listening to the recording.”

I cracked up. “Do you plan to let loose when you move into your dorm?” I concentrated on backing out of the driveway.

“Hell, yeah.”

Dylan and I both chuckled. My attention turned to my parents’ house next door. The yard would not need maintenance for another week. Unfortunately, my mother wasn’t home. What I wouldn’t give to snag a piece of homemade apple pie kept in the fridge for my dad.

From time to time, I missed home and my four obnoxious sisters. There were plenty of good times shared in my childhood home:birthdays, holidays, and just flat out fun. My father made sure that as the only boy in a household full of women, we spent a lot of time together. My mom and sisters taught me how to treat a woman while my dad taught me how to be a man. Work hard, and never, ever take no for an answer. Words I lived by on a daily basis.

We’d reached the front of the subdivision when my cell phone rang. I jotted down notes before snapping the phone shut. “It looks like we’ve got one more job.”

Groans erupted from my passengers.

“Hey, you want to get paid, right?” I glanced over my shoulder while punching the address into my GPS. “This is how it’s done. You guys want money for dates; I need money for my girl, too.”

“What girl?” Peter blurted.

Dylan cackled from the back seat.

“I have a girl. Unlike you guys, my girl isn’t high maintenance. She loves it when I hold her, and it doesn’t take much for me to make her sing.” I grinned so hard my face felt like it would split in two.

Dylan pretended to puke.

“Dude, you seriously need to find a girlfriend. I can’t stand listening to you talk about your guitar like it’s a real woman,” Peter said.

“Yeah, man, you need help,” Dylan chimed in.

“No, what I need is a new guitar. That will take my playing to a whole new level.”

Peter snickered. “Maybe, but your love life is gonna suck.”

I smirked, ignoring the ribbing. These young guys just didn’t understand. There was more to life than chasing after women.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the new customer’s address. There were no cars in the driveway. According to the woman who called, her roommate was on her way and would be responsible for payment. The guys waited in the truck while I surveyed the property, walking the length of the lawn, tossing small rocks to the yard’s edge. The last thing I needed was to pay for a customer’s broken windshield caused by a rock thrown by the lawnmower.

The two-story house had a decent sized yard. There were a few large shade trees in the front. A quick assessment showed the roots shouldn’t get in the way of the lawnmower blades. My height allowed me to peer over the high, wooden gate of the backyard. It was less than half the size of the front. We’d be able to knock it out in no time.

Peter and Dylan were out of the truck when I returned, so we went over the game plan. We’d just wrapped up when a car pulled into the driveway. I exhaled deeply before turning back to fill the weed whacker with gasoline. Our drive would not be a waste of time.

I heard the slam of a car door, followed by the opening of another. Light footsteps crunched on loose gravel in the driveway as my customer approached. I turned to introduce myself in full customer-service mode.

I paused; thankful my customer’s attention focused elsewhere, and quickly shut my mouth. It was Ebony, the woman from the club.

Her attention appeared to be on something in her purse as she walked my way, so she hadn’t seen me yet.

She was not dressed as she was Saturday night. Her hair wasn’t flowing over her shoulders, tempting my fingers to get lost in its waves. Her legs were not bare, nor did she wear a skin tight, short dress, showing off shapely calf muscles, as she had the other evening. Instead, she wore a baggy shirt over pants with some kind of printed design, something like standard medical wear. She wore her hair in a ponytail, and her feet were in tennis shoes. She struggled to balance an armful of books of various sizes and a book bag over her shoulder.

Ebony was still sexy as hell.

“I’m glad you haven’t got started yet. My roommate called me at the last minute and told me you were coming. I don’t have any cash on me. Do you take checks or−?” Her voice faltered when she saw me. “Brian? What are you doing here?”

I caught a hint of fire in her eyes and something else. Maybe guilt for not meeting me in VIP?

“I’m here to cut your grass.” I screwed the top back on the gas can, fighting the urge to laugh at the irony of the situation.

Play it cool. I was not about to let her know how disappointed I’d been sitting alone. What happened a few nights ago had nothing to do with the money she was about to put in my pocket.

“I thought you were a musician.”

I pulled goggles and gloves out of the driver’s side door pocket. “I am, but it doesn’t pay the bills just yet. This is my day job.”

Ebony’s eyes traveled to the truck and my cousins before settling back on me.

“This is my business,” I added, watching her thin eyebrows arch.

Since I hadn’t questioned her about the VIP incident, she seemed to relax. The sound of a lawnmower cranking up broke the awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way.” She backed away from the truck and headed for her house.

It dawned on me I did not answer her question regarding the form of payment. At least it would give me something to talk about when we were done.

Saturday night, Ebony disappeared like Cinderella, without leaving a hint of a glass slipper. Now, barely two days later, I found where she lived. What were the chances? This was fate.

I took the opportunity to appreciate every inch of her hidden under baggy clothes. The image of her in the black form-fitting dress revealing every curvy inch of her body had haunted my dreams.

Outside the club, in natural light, Ebony did not disappoint. Her almond shaped eyes were a rich shade of brown, dark and mysterious. She wore no makeup on her caramel skin, and her lips were naked, with no hint of gloss.

I chuckled when she finally got her front door unlocked. It appeared she’d run into some trouble with her key. Flustered perhaps?

I hoped so. With a little luck, I just might have a chance to get her to talk to me about more than grass.


If you haven’t read the Amazon Bestseller, A Heart Not Easily Broken, buy your copy today! It’s $3.99 and available for Kindle, Nook, iTunes, and on Smashwords. If Paperback is what you prefer, find it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble! 


Ebony is a smart, sexy, career-oriented black woman who wants nothing more than a summer fling with a man who challenges her mind and body. What she doesn’t expect is a blond-haired, blue-eyed bass player—who won’t take “no” for an answer—to accept the challenge.

When Ebony’s attempt at a brief fling turns into more, despite negative reactions from friends and family, she finds juggling love, family, and career are nothing compared to the ultimate betrayal she endures. Now her dreams spiral into lies and secrets that threaten her future and her best friend’s trust.


For more information on The Butterfly Memoirs Series and a sample of the next book, Jadedvisit this link! 


Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!


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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!


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




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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Time is Running Out! Don’t Miss Your Chance!

Yep, time is running out! A Heart Not Easily Broken will not be on sale after July 31st, so grab your copy today! Don’t forget to tell a friend, too!


If you haven’t read the Amazon Bestseller, A Heart Not Easily Broken, buy your copy today! It’s .99 cents and available for Kindle, Nook, iTunes, and on Smashwords. If Paperback is what you prefer, find it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble! 

AHNEB Sale with seal pic 450

Ebony is a smart, sexy, career-oriented black woman who wants nothing more than a summer fling with a man who challenges her mind and body. What she doesn’t expect is a blond-haired, blue-eyed bass player—who won’t take “no” for an answer—to accept the challenge.

When Ebony’s attempt at a brief fling turns into more, despite negative reactions from friends and family, she finds juggling love, family, and career are nothing compared to the ultimate betrayal she endures. Now her dreams spiral into lies and secrets that threaten her future and her best friend’s trust.


For more information on The Butterfly Memoirs Series and a sample of the next book, Jadedvisit this link! 


Thank you for stopping by! I love to make new friends. Got questions or comments? Leave a comment, or connect with me online!

About Me     Twitter     Facebook    Pinterest     Google+      Goodreads     Linkedin     Email

Jaded – Book Two of The Butterfly Memoirs Blog Tour!

Welcome to the Jaded Blog Tour!!!

I don’t know who’s more excited…me, readers, or the characters!

Today marks the release of the second novel in The Butterfly Memoirs Series….YAY!!!! For those of you who have followed me for the past year, and have read A Heart Not Easily Broken, you have met Yasmine Phillips. Throughout the novel, she came across to many as confident, a bit loose, and stuck on herself. By the end of the novel, she was a devastated woman left to pick up the pieces from a relationship she thought was real. A lot of readers thought her reaction to learning about Ebony and Javan would be different based on the way she’s depicted.

But as they say, never judge a book by its cover.

And now it’s time to pull back the cover of Jaded

Autumn landscape

A devastating breakup leaves Yasmine Phillips in shambles. Unable to trust another man with her heart, she focuses on the one thing she can control—starting her own business.

When her computer crashes, taking months of hard work with it, she must rely on computer genius Zachariah Givens to save her. A complete opposite of men from her past, she doesn’t expect the passion that ensues. But just as she finds happiness, she learns the truth about the other women in Zachariah’s life.

 And of course with the new book comes a CONTEST!!!!

Follow this link to the Jaded Blog Tour Schedule and Contest Information! 

Good luck and thanks for your support!!!


Interview with Raine Delight!

Today I welcome  author Raine Delight. I’ve had the opportunity to talk to her via Facebook and the fact that she writes for two different types of Romance  is very interesting!  Grab that cup of coffee and take a moment to meet her!

Red Hot Magic Cover

Welcome, Raine!

What inspired you to write?

Actually it was reading one too many books that had too stupid to live heroines and heroes who made me want to scream. An author friend dared me to write something better and after a few tries I got my first book, Sticky Magic, as well as my first series set up.

What genre do you write? Did you choose it, or did it choose you?

I write Paranormal Contemporary, either M/F or M/M, depending on the how my characters want to go. I love paranormal, contemporary stories and felt right at home with them.

What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

I work from home so I have a bit of a flexible schedule. I normally write during the day when kids are at school and sometimes after they are in bed depending on if the story really gets its grip in me.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I like having green tea and skittles nearby if I need a break and I need music for background noise. Sometimes the music even makes it into the story. J

Are you a pantser or plotter?

I am a pantser all the way. I tried an outline once…my muse laughed his fool head off and proceeded to take the story in a completely other direction. Let’s just say outlines and myself are not good bedfellows. J

Are your stories based on experiences based on someone you know, or are events in your own life reflected in the characters/stories you write? Can you share and example?

It all depends…sometimes I draw from experiences in a bakery I used to work at like I did in my latest story, Moonlight Masquerade found in the On Valentine’s Day Anthology or other jobs but otherwise it is all make believe.

Do you have any suggestions to help new authors become a better writer? If so, what are they?

Write every day or whenever you can. Read whatever genre you want to read. Talk to other authors, let yourself learn as you write your books and eventually things do stick in your head when you write. J

Are you self-pubbed, indie pubbed, or traditionally pubbed?

RD: I am published through Secret Cravings. I have six books there right now and plan to send in three more to them this year and I also am involved in two anthologies a bunch of us got together and self-published. Both anthologies I am in, Hot Summer Fun & On Valentine’s Day were both best sellers at All Romance Ebookstore and on Amazon Kindle. I also have another story I am getting ready to self-publish called Second Chance at Love on my own.

What are your current projects?

I am promoting my story Moonlight Masquerade, now out in the On Valentine’s Day Anthology then I am getting into my next Devon Falls story, Mistletoe & Magic (Paranormal M/M) and I am eager to get to my space pirates finished and sent out for submission.

Author/Reader Loop    Email     Secret Cravings Publishing    Haunting Magic book Trailer

Red Hot Magic Book Trailer    A Summer Night Fling Book Trailer    Sticky Magic book trailer

Facebook      Website     Raine’s Blog

Valentine Anthology Cover

Mysterious roses keep popping up on Skylar Everclear’s doorstep. No idea what is going, a little disturbed by this secret admirer, he tries to forget it all since he just got rid of the latest line of loser boyfriends and just wants to do his job at the local bakery. But when he meets his new neighbor, Marc Douglas, he finds himself drawn to the quiet young man even as he tries to not let his libido take over. But on Valentine’s Day, a mysterious rose again pops up with a note to meet his admirer that night. Will Skylar take a chance that this time, love is right there waiting for him?


Skylar opened his door and groaned. Another damn rose was lying on his doormat. It ticked him off that he had no idea who was doing this but every freaking night this week he either came home to a rose on his porch or opened the door to it. It was enough to feel creeped out now. He looked around, seeing no one, shut the door with a soft click and leaned against the door in despair. It has been three months since he threw out his lover, Saul, after catching him fucking some other guy after one of the numerous block parties the neighborhood held in the summer and autumn months and frankly he didn’t know what to do anymore. All he did was work, sleep and work some more. He always seemed to pick those guys who are bound to break his heart.

“I must have ‘Loser’ tattooed on my forehead the last few years.” Skylar muttered to himself.  “Why can’t I find a nice guy for once? One who won’t lie, cheat or steal and break my heart by telling me I wasn’t good enough for them.” Sighing, Skylar grabbed his backpack, keys and cell phone as he hurried to get ready for work. As a baker in the local bakery, his day started earlier than many others. With Valentine’s around the corner, he was working longer than normal hours. He was in the bakery at 4 am and not coming home till almost five at night. It made for long hellish days but he enjoyed what he did. Plus he enjoyed seeing the people enjoy his desserts and hey, the paycheck after days like this made a nice chunk of change in his bank account. His mind on what items he needed to get done for the next few days, he opened then shut his door, locked it and made sure to pick up the rose before he stepped all over it, crushing the fragile blooms. As he turned and walked to his car, he wondered who his mysterious admirer was.

Skylar’s day got off to a good start at work as he hummed a long with a local radio station playing 80’s rock bands while he rolled out dough for cookies, breads and made delicate fruit pastries. He was finally able to take a quick break around noon when the front sales person, Marlene, poked her head in the doorway saying they needed more pastry hearts. Seemed everyone was buying those desserts for their significant other, or ordering the smaller ones for class or office parties. He sighed as the fleeting dream of getting off his feet for ten minutes went on by as he got to work making more goodies. By the time five o’clock hit, Skylar was exhausted but pleased. They sold out of many of the Valentine themed items and the specialty breads were also almost gone. He made a note on the dry-erase board what needed to be replaced tomorrow and clocked out, waving to the front sales people as he went through the door to the parking lot.

Shivering as he hurried to his car, Skylar fumbled with his keys before unlocking the door and sliding into the seat. Turning the heat up on high, he waited a bit before putting his car in drive to go home. All he wanted to do was grab a shower, order a pizza and veg in front of the television. He was so exhausted it wasn’t funny. Watching couples come into the bakery or men buying items for their partners/girlfriends was a downer to be sure. He never liked Valentine’s Day to begin with. He felt it was a holiday that Hallmark cards liked so they could guilt people into buying cheesy cards and florist could raise the prices of roses so high it was mind boggling. He never had a nice Valentine’s Day where a lover surprised him with dinner or gave him something romantic or funny or sweet. He was always alone on Valentine’s day and he tried to make sure he didn’t have to deal with people who were so sugary sweet they made his teeth ache. Finally feeling the car heat up, he drove off determined to not think of hearts, flowers and all the things associated to Valentine’s Day. It was for couples, people in love and not for him.




My Straight Jacket is Purple…How About Yours?

***This blog was originally published  12/2011, and was my most read blog on my old blog site. I decide to dust it of, refresh it a bit and share again. After all, I’m sure all authors can relate! :)***
I know, it’s a crazy statement, but as an author we all have an element of crazy in us somewhere. How can we not? We have to balance our lives, family, and day to day responsibilities with the art of storytelling. We create lives, personalities, likes and dislikes. It’s like giving birth without the added weight gain and late night bottle feedings.
Or is it?
If they all came like this, I’d want one!
If we don’t watch it, we drink coffee, eat snacks, and are glued to our computer screens for hours on end. Thus the weight gain. Late night bottle feedings come in the form of waking up in the wee hours of the night, turning on the bedside light or computer to jot down notes or write a scene that’s been plaguing us all day.
How do we stay sane? Where do these fictional people come from? Why are we not wearing straight jackets?????
My best guess is because we’ve learned to blend in with the rest of society. Thankfully people are intrigued by our stories and want to be entertained. Thus the reason why the straight jackets stay tucked in the corner and the psychiatrist keeps the crazy pills at bay.
But, all jokes aside, it is my opinion that writing is the truest form of self-expression, of healing, and finding a way to cope with whatever ails you. Whether you write in a diary, a memoir, take the experiences of your life, or pull from those around you. No matter what avenue you decide to take, writing can help you make it through.
How well you write is another story.
I love to create the characters in my stories. As an only child I spent a lot of time playing with my baby dolls, stuffed animals, and Barbies’. Each had a name and a voice of its own. I spent hour after hour making up stories and creating adventures to entertain myself. Each story had a Happily Ever After. From time to time I would get the tape recorder (remember that ancient form of electronics?) and make cassette tapes of these little adventures to share with my parents. They of course thought they were funny. Little did I know that form of storytelling would eventually lead to me putting stories down on paper.
I still use a recorder – digital that is – and the stories are the ones from my books. No dolls allowed; I leave that to my daughter. Now the stories are not about princess riding horses and marrying the prince. Now it’s stories dealing with real life experiences. Not all are my own, but they are real, they do happen, and there is heartbreak and pain. But through it all there is happiness and love.
As I create the heroines in my stories, I’ve come to realize something. In each character – as different as they are – there is an element of me. The woman I once was, the woman I am, the woman I secretly wish I could be, and the woman I aspire to become. Multiple Personality Disorder at its best. By telling these women’s stories I’ve found a way to work through the pain in my past and find happiness in my family and the ones I hold dear.
Along the way I’ve made friends I never would have known, and gained knowledge I never would have attained. In short, I’ve not only learned how to become a better writer, I’ve learned more about me. Writing has allowed me to make a mark of my own outside of being a wife and a mother. After thirty-eight years I have finally discovered something I love, something I’m good at, and something that unless I actually lose my mind, no one can ever take away from me.
There’s not a morning I don’t get up with an idea in my head and am anxious to get down on paper. Seeing my first story, A Heart Not Easily Broken, become a published Bestselling novel on Amazon has been a mind  blowing experience. There are days when I pull up  Amazon and look at my name and cover on the screen and go, ‘Wow, did I really write that?” What’s even more mind blowing is knowing that I am on the eve of the publication of my second novel…
If someone  told me three years ago that this would happen, I’d probably laugh and say, ‘yeah, right.’ But it just goes to show that following your dreams and not being afraid to wear that straight jacket can pay off……
As long as you write a book good enough for the ‘doctors’ to read. What can they do if they’re distracted? 🙂
Can’t believe I found purple shoes to match! LOL!
To all of you who are on various stages of your writing path, I wish you the best journey. Write your heart, write what you feel, let those characters out and onto paper. Just do me a favor, watch your back. If you don’t tell the story right, the men with those special white coats just might change their mind and take you for a ride!
By the way, my straight jacket also has butterflies!
Until Next Time, Write On!