Tuesday, 31 July 2012

Cleve's Story

Picture: RomanceNovelCenter.com©

Cleve Hammond is a man with a secret.  A past betrayal has made him cynical and wary of all women.  But a sensual encounter on a cruise ship is about to shake him to the core.

His new position as Managing Director of a company becomes complex when the holiday 'fling' turns out to be an employee.

The fact that the woman fled the ship only adds to the rampant emotions stirring within him.

He can't become involved but it seems he can't keep his mind off her as the memories of their tryst seep into every waking moment.

Will he conquer his feelings?  Or will he give in to his burning desires?


 CANDY'S MAN:   Amazon    Smashwords    B&N    Diesel           Ebook Eros    iTunes    Kobo

 Paperback:  Amazon  and  Createspace




Sunday, 29 July 2012

Candy's Man - Exclusive Excerpts


   Picture:FreeDigitalPhotos.net




Rubbing a hand across his forehead, he tried to forget the way Candy’s tight black skirt and white blouse accentuated her petite, shapely body.  Her hair had been put up in one of those large butterfly clips and he’d wanted to take it down and run his fingers through it.  When he’d put his hand over hers and felt the warmth of her skin, it had taken all of his strength not to pull her into his arms.  The scent of her had invaded his senses and he’d almost lost it.  He had let his anger override his desire so he wouldn’t disgrace himself. 
Cleve closed his eyes, but the image of Candy standing before him wearing nothing but those sexy red shoes careered into his mind and he quickly opened them.
Damn.  Damn.  Damn.

***


She was panting.  He made her feel things she had not felt...ever.  His eyes bore into hers and she became confused.  His eyes had changed colour from brown to blue.  Was she going crazy?  “Your eyes...” she began and then heard the door open behind her.
“What the hell’s going on in here!” bellowed the voice, a familiar voice.
Candy’s head jerked back and she saw Cleve standing there with his hands on his hips.  She turned abruptly to face the man in front of her and felt every cell in her body turn to mud.  What the hell was going on?  She pulled away from the embrace.  “What...?”  She put a hand to her mouth, looking from one to the other.  There were two of them.
   
***

He sat behind his desk, papers in hand, with a glum look on his face.  She could almost envision a dark cloud hanging over his head.
 “Sit down,” he told her, and she did as slowly as she possibly could.  She crossed her legs, glad she had worn sheer, black, silk stockings.  His eyes moved back to her face.  Bingo!  “Miss Walker.”  He cleared his throat.  “I’m assuming you have a good reason for missing the meeting.”
Silence.
Why did he think she was going to make this easy for him?  He glowered at her.  She primped her hair.
“Damn it!” he said, his voice deep and forceful.
She splayed her fingers before her.  Maybe she should get a manicure, they seemed all the rage. 
He stood then, all six-foot-six of astounding masculinity, and her heart slammed against her chest.  “What do you think you’re playing at?” he yelled, and she clasped her shaking hands together, creasing the papers she held.
“I’m not the one playing games,” she said softly, thankful her voice didn’t shake.
     His eyes turned black and a vein in his neck began to pulsate.  As he moved from behind the desk and stood in front of her, her eyes widened.

***

She picked up her phone from the bedside table and looked at the screen.  She didn’t recognise the number.  “Hello,” she croaked.
Silence.
“Hello,” she repeated.
“It’s Cleve,” the deep, accented voice said and she almost dropped the phone.
Silence again.
“Candy?”
The way he said her name made her tremble.  “Yes?” she answered.
“I’m at the front door.  Come and let me in.”
What?!
What the hell was he doing here?  “What do you want?” she asked and her heart pounded in her chest.
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“About what?”  She sat up.  She couldn’t see him like this.  She was barely awake.
“Do I have to talk to you from out here,” he said.  “Your neighbours can hear me.”
Damn.
Damn that man to hell!

***

He pulled her brutally into his arms and brought his mouth down hard over hers taking her breath, taking her last shred of doubt... 
She responded to his probing tongue.  He formed a fist in her hair and held her roughly against him.  She winced and let out a small cry.
“So, it’s me you want?” he asked again, panting.  He sounded desperate.
“Yes,” she rasped, clinging to him.  God help her but she did.
He closed his eyes, chest heaving. 
Something wasn’t right.  Searching his face, she watched him open his eyes and saw the torment in them.
“Then...” he took a breath, “...leave my damn brother alone!”  And he pushed her away from him.
She stumbled and fell to the bed.  She’d never seen such anguish on his face before.  Her heart was beating so hard it seemed to tear through her chest.  “Cleve...I don’t understand,” she cried, but the room was empty.  

***

 CANDY'S MAN:   Amazon    Smashwords    B&N    Diesel    Ebook Eros    iTunes    Kobo


Friday, 27 July 2012

Welcome Author B.C Brown



Genre: Paranormal Mystery

Warning: Strong Language



Book Blurb

Abigail St. Michael, a former cop, has joined the recently growing ranks of metaphysicals, individuals with abilities outside that of normal human nature. When a murderer stalks her town killing children, Abbey uses her ability of touch clairvoyance to hunt him down. Her only roadblock is that her murderer seems to have his own unique talent, the ability to 'wipe' his victims and their surroundings of any metaphysical energy. With little physical evidence and no supernatural evidence, Abbey is forced to rely on instinct and luck to solve the case. However both Abbey's luck and instinct seem to have taken a permanent vacation as the victims keep piling up with the killer's escalating blood lust.

 Unique Excerpt
      
      Davis fished a small notebook out of the pocket of his tweed jacket-
      Ugh, were those really elbow patches?
-and began flipping through the little pages as I beamed up at him, my teeth stark white in my dark face. I batted my long black lashes at him in my attempt at feminine demure.
       “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Boss.”
       I stuffed the last chunk of the flaky pastry into my mouth and took a swig of my bottled water with attitude.
       “It’s two-thirty in the morning, Abbey; nobody respectable eats at two-thirty and calls it breakfast,” he reminded me.
       I smiled at him wider. “Since I just got out of bed, after only an hour of sleep might I add, and am probably up for the rest of the damn day, then it is my breakfast. So I don’t give a fuck what time it is.”
       Davis shook his head and a limp piece of thinning hair flopped down over his forehead. “Why can’t you just go back to sleep like a normal cop?” he scoffed before he stopped dead.
       An uncomfortable silence stretched between us, the air taut, creating a vacuum akin to that of space. The smile had left my face, and all the bravado I’d staged leading up to this moment to cover the absolute dread I felt whenever Davis called me out to a crime scene was for shit.
       When I spoke next it wasn’t more than a whisper, but I knew Davis heard it.  “Because I wasn’t allowed to just be a normal cop.”
       My old friend had enough grace to look repentant. His first reaction was to reach out to comfort me physically, but I watched the realization of his actions dawn in his eyes and he thought better of it.
       I don’t always pick up visions through cloth, but it’s not foolproof either. Some imprints still seep through my carefully layered wardrobe, so most people don’t risk it. I liked it better that way, too.
       Bullshit.          
       “I’m sorry, Abbey; I didn’t..."
       “Drop it, Davis.” My voice was still hard, but I’d managed to say it with a smile.
       Cookie for me!
       Davis didn’t respond, so I went for humor to ease the tension.
       “Hey, being the department’s pet freak-for-hire did win me a fabulous two-year, all-expenses-paid vacation to Cabo San Lucas. Damn, the early retirement package was sweet, too. What other flatfoot can say that the force footed an entire two years in the vacation get-away of the world?”
       He offered a reluctant smile and I took what I could get. I propped my hands on my hips, after slipping my glove out of my pocket and back over my bare skin, and cocked my head to one side.
       “So, whatcha got for lil’ ol’ me?” I quipped, trying to regain some level of bravado before I was forced to explore my own personal hell once more.
       The awkwardness left Davis’ lanky frame. The man became a hundred and ten percent professional in the space of a breath.
       “Jenny Arnette, age eight, found with her throat slashed. C.O.D. – exsanguination. A group of teenagers loitering around the park found her in the bushes by the basketball courts.” He made a small gesture to the blacktop courts less than twenty feet away. “She was found on her stomach, but one of the boys rolled her over, thinking he could do CPR.” He snorted. “I’m not sure what he was thinking; the girl was found in a five foot puddle of blood.”
       My croissant turned to lead in my stomach.


Author

            B.C. Brown was born with six fingers on each hand endowing her with super powers, thus enabling her to fight crime.  When a freak Cuisinart accident severed the additional digits and her powers, B.C. was forced to fall back on her secondary talent -writing. Now she lives between the pages of a book - whether she has written it or not.  Since she has not found the surgeon to restore her fingers and powers, she has published three novels to date and contributed to one anthology. She enjoys writing mystery, paranormal romance, science fiction and fantasy but is always in the mood for a challenge to branch out.  You can follow her crime fighting or writing at her blog, Twitter, Facebook, or Goodreads.

Twitter: www.twitter.com/bcbrownbooks or @BCBrownBooks



Tuesday, 24 July 2012

A Tuesday Poem


love is thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail

it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive

it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky

e.e. cummings




Pictures:FreeDigitalPhotos.net






Monday, 23 July 2012

Weather it rains or not


Picture:FreeDigitalPhotos.net


The weather here was like this today.  Rain, some glorious sunshine - I almost had the washing dry - and more rain.

Seeing as it's supposed to be winter here, it's a bit of a worry that it hasn't rained more often.  I don't mind the rain.  It's the cold I hate. And it's certainly been that.

My favourite of the seasons is Spring.  My Azaleas are beginning to bloom and also one of my Camellias.  

I love the colours of a spring garden, but a little more rain wouldn't hurt.


 

Pictures:photobucket





Sunday, 22 July 2012

Copyrite Scare

After reading about a blogger being sued for using certain photos on her blog, I will be deleting most of my pics on this blog.  I've already done so on Facebook and will get to Pinterest in the coming days.  Everyone should read Roni Loren's story.

 http://www.roniloren.com/blog/2012/7/20/bloggers-beware-you-can-get-sued-for-using-pics-on-your-blog.html

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Fifty Shades Trilogy




I've read so many bad reviews of the 'Fifty Shades' trilogy but I think the author must have done something right considering the books are a sell-out.  I haven't read the books myself but they are definitely on my To-Be-Read list.  More out of curiosity than anything.  


There has been a lot of criticism concerning its 'fan-fiction' origins and the bad writing.  Some have labelled it 'porn'. Well, it has obviously stirred the literary world.  


And I think the bad reviews have only added to the mystery surrounding these books.  When you boil it down, it's the sales that matter in the end.  Especially for the author.


I thought this was a fair review so I am sharing it.  Thank you to Karen A Wyle.


Karen A Wyle's Review - Fifty Shades Trilogy





Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Chapter One

Candy stretched, yawned, and snuggled back into a ball. A faint humming filled the cabin, and she heard water running.

“Damn!” The masculine voice was loud and clear, and her eyes snapped open. 

Oh, my God!

She searched the room and her gaze rested on clothes neatly folded over a chair. 

Men’s clothes. 

Under the chair, a pair of shoes sat in an orderly fashion.

A neat freak. 

She soon discovered that was the least of her problems. She lifted the bed covers. Just as she thought. She was naked in a strange man’s bed. Her stomach clenched.

I slept with a stranger!

With the sobriety she lacked the evening before, she shook her head in disbelief. She had never been so reckless in her entire twenty-nine years.

The bathroom door flew open and a man stood before her in all his natural majesty. Candy flushed and pulled the covers over her head. His deep laugh resonated throughout the room.

“You’re not shy?” he asked, the amusement evident in his husky American voice.

Shy? Shameless was a more appropriate word.

“Come on,” he said playfully, and Candy heard him move closer to the bed. The bed shifted as he sat near her. “You’ve nothing to feel embarrassed about.”

Embarrassed? Try mortified!

With forceful hands he grabbed the covers and tried to pull them from her. She refused to give up without a fight. 

“I won’t bite. Well, only if you don’t want me to,” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t even know your name,” she croaked.


Read More:  http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/303675-candy-s-man?chapter=0

Monday, 9 July 2012

Days Of Our Youth


Pictures:photobucket


This picture had me thinking back to my youth and the great times we had.

We often plodded through the week but when Friday night hit, it was the weekend!  Time for the gang to get together and party, party, party. 

I have so many wonderful memories of nightclubs, dancing, pub nights, excursions to the beach, bog-lapping around the city, and so many more.  Monday always came around much too quickly and then it was back to work, feeling a little like the picture above.

But, as is the way of youth, we were quick to recover and would be planning for the next weekend.  Ah, those were the days.

Friday, 6 July 2012

It's The Weekend



Some weeks seem to last forever!  Glad that one is over.  I'm going to do some reading this weekend and catch up on some missed sleep.  What have you got planned?


Whether it is relaxing or playing, enjoy!

Pictures:FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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