Sunday, July 23, 2017

WeWriWa: Mixed Emotions


No one likes going for a rebound (unless they're playing basketball). It's that uncertain, awkward stage between heartbreak and desperate loneliness that leads to some pretty bad decisions, the kind that fuel the opening scenes of PRINCE OF FOOLS. He's lost the woman he loves to his brother, she's there to pick up the pieces, telling herself that she's okay with being second string, second choice. Riiiiiight. Like that's going to end well. While I'm finishing my first read through and moving on to that second pass to revise, here's a glimpse of my characters stumbling through the motions . . . starting with that morning-after moment of regret.


A picture on an unfamiliar nightstand, the girl he recognized, but not the room, not the bed where covers tangled about his naked form.

Oh, holy hell, he’d gotten drunk and pity-f-ed by Amber James!

Covering his face with his hands, he repressed a groan of horror then peeked between his fingers, spotting his clothes on the foot of the bed, cleaned and neatly folded, and hoped maybe he was wrong, that she’d simply let him crash and sleep off his misery . . . until he inhaled. No mistaking the rich aroma of well-enjoyed sex lingering on every inch of him.

What had he done? He screwed someone’s mom! 

Amber . . . she’d hate him, or worse, expect something from him that he couldn’t give. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted, the last thing she deserved after all she’d done for him and his family.

What the hell was wrong with him that he had to go out of his way to so effortlessly mess everything up?

The Prince of Fools.


While I'm visiting your sites (I apologize for not showing up last Sunday - houseful of company followed by busy first full week back at work, but THANK YOU for your awesome comments!), enjoy another, less painful take on dealing with heartache. Rico and Amber should have taken this advice as their friendship tumbles toward relationship.


Happy Writing, All!!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

WeWriWa: Draft One . . . and Done!


Ahhhhhhhhh! That feeling when you write that last sentence, sit back and go “Damn, that’s good!” The euphoria lasts about as long as it takes to realize you’ve got edits and the trimming of 10K words ahead of you. But for the moment, it’s pure heaven.

As I’m sharing this clip from one of the final chapters of PRINCE OF FOOLS, the third book in my “House of Terriot” shapeshifter foursome, I’ve already started my first complete read through and . . . so far, so good. I think I’ve cut about 20 words! A long way to go . . . but the journey is the best part of reaching the destination.

“What’s wrong?” 

Rico kissed her to postpone his answer, pouring all the emotion dammed up in his chest into the tender union of lips and tongues and breaths. Perfect. She was perfect, fitting him, completing him in every possible way, fulfilling every dream and desire he’d ever imagined, bringing out in him every strong, brave and noble instinct that had been percolating since the first time he’d seen mother and child together and recognized the family he’d longed for all his life. This moment was flawless, the one he’d hold fiercely to sustain him in the days and nights to come. 

They cuddled on the cold, celestially drenched patio, stars in their eyes as the strange new entwining of their souls relaxed and released them. Rico nudged into Amber’s palm as she stroked his cheek, turning his face from the dark sky toward his own personal heaven. The intensity of her gaze allowed for no escaping her demand. 

“Rico, talk to me.” 

“My brothers and I are going back to New Orleans tonight . . . alone.”


I’ve got critique group company all weekend, but I’ll sneak away to visit everyone’s snippets before heading back to the work office tomorrow after three looooong weekends and a partial vacay (working in the home office, of course!). Looking forward to some good reads! Then it’s knuckle down to plan promos and set a release date time.

Happy writing!!

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

WeWriWa: Proud to be a Grrrrl!


I spent the long holiday weekend enjoying two highly entertaining and vastly different movies with the same message: It ain’t easy being a girl so you might as well come out swinging. On the surface, Wonder Woman and Hidden Figures don’t seem to have much in common, a comic book Amazon and a trio of real life women in the ‘60s, but both celebrate strength when faced with overwhelming odds – a strength of body, of mind, of will and character (and bladder!) that had audiences cheering “You go, girl!”


It’s no secret that I love a strong heroine in my books. At first glance, Amber James, single mom, working as a bartender for shapeshifters (there’s that grrrrrr factor!) to make ends meet seems quietly determined to stay under the radar and simply survive. But when her greatest fear rears up from the past to threaten daughter and her love, she shows that superhero moxie in today's excerpt.


Rico was . . . gone, most likely dead if they could be believed, and no one else would notice her absence, not in time to save them. Amber forced down the flood of anxious, weepy emotions, refusing to let them weaken her, just as she’d defied her fear of Brady in his office, by focusing on Evie. 

They were safe for the moment, a moment she hoped would be long enough to provide a way out, because Brady, like her father, would be looking for an opportunity to crush her, his placating lies buying him time to formulate a suitable and probably long dreamed of revenge for emasculating him all those years ago. A man didn’t get over that kind of personal insult, his hatred of her equal or greater than her terror at being helpless within his grip again, but she still held the upper hand, if she could hang onto her nerve long enough to play it. 

She didn’t have to wait long. 

The door burst open, startling her into a defense pose as an enraged Brady shoved his man aside to close himself in the room with her, a room suddenly a hundred times smaller and less cozy. Though fright leapt in her chest, Amber forced her posture to relax as she regarded him coolly, smile remote and taunting. 

“You think this is a game,” he raged, holding himself in place with difficulty, big, brutal hands working at his sides as if eager to feel her neck between them, "that you can trick me with information that's coded.” 

“And without that code, useless to you. You’ll get the code when my family is out of your reach.”


I'm finishing the last few scenes of PRINCE OF FOOLS, (had that finale epiphany while doing my eye makeup on Friday morning before work and wished I had a super power to stop time so I could get it all written down right then!) and once they're done, it's editing time. I'm so looking forward to this first page to last read through. Glad I offered to only work two half days this week while my attorneys are out of the office. My super power is creating time when there is none. Shazzam! Now, to use it wisely . . .

And if you haven't, see those movies!!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

IWSG: Know Your Tribe!


July’s Insecure Writers’ Support Group topic has to do with “What is the one valuable lesson you’ve learned since you started writing?” The total tonnage of what I’ve learned in my 30-year career is somewhat staggering (and not all of it is still relevant), but there’s no quibbling over this one. Know your tribe. Your peeps. Whose got your back. Where like minds collect and spark. Where seldom is heard a disingenuous word.

Your tribe. Who are they? Writers. True. All we wordsmiths have basics of creativity and discipline in common, but that’s a dang big group to relate to on a daily basis. So, narrow it down. Fiction writers>romance writers>paranormal authors. Where do I find them? Nationally: RWA, Ninc, etc. Locally: Mid-Michigan RWA and more recently Capital City Writers. Personally . . . now this is where things get focused. I belong to a fabulous local chapter of writers who are active, supportive, enthusiastic, and fun to hang out with. Our meetings, and better yet, our write-ins and Retreat, are dynamic places to meet and mingle with like hearts and minds. But my personal tribe takes it down another notch: to those I commune with, sharing the good, bad and ugly, first just as critique partners, and now, more like sisters . . . for over 20 years!! The stuff we’ve gone through! Rejections (both professional and personal), successes (again, both professional and personal), through sickness and in health, through the highs and lows and sometimes endless plateaus. We’ve got each other’s backs and best interests! We don’t all write or create the same way, on the same level, in the same genre, but we share with the same respect and trust. I am blessed by my tribe.



Find your tribe, and let them support you with knowledge, with encouragement, with enthusiasm that can lift you from the lowest ruts. Give as well as receive. That’s the true benefit. Have more than one tribe. I have a fantastic cheering section in my Weekend Writing Warriors online group that forces me to produce . . . something, every week, that I connect with even though I’ll probably never meet all of them face to face. And what about our wonderful IWSG? It’s that CONNECTION that matters, that keeps you from getting lost in the sometimes disheartening and lonely job that we do.

Find your tribe and find your strength.

Happy July! Happy Writing!



Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer - aim for a dozen new people each time.


The awesome co-hosts for the July 5th posting of the IWSG will be Tamara Narayan, Pat Hatt, Patricia Lynne, Juneta Key, and Doreen McGettigan!

Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!


Twitter hashtag is #IWSG

Sunday, July 2, 2017

WeWriWa: It's All In the Cards . . .


Last week, I had the phenomenal opportunity to be a guest on Arwen Lynch's "Tarot By Arwen" You Tube site. I'm such a groupie of hers! To launch her new book on using the Tarot to aid in developing plot and characters, she's doing author video readings to answer those questions in regards to their WIPs. Cool, right! As a Tarot dabbler, I jumped at the chance, and had her do a background check reading on Ophelia Brady, Kip Terriot's love interest in PRINCE OF DREAMS, Book 4 in my "House of Terriot" series, which is still very much on the drawing board. WOW! Did the reading ever fill in the blanks and give me a positive direction! So for today's 8-10 lines, I'm giving you a glimpse of Ophelia and Kip's first meeting in UNLEASHED BY SHADOWS. FYI, Kip is the youngest of the Terriot princes who is more at home on the computer keyboard than in the boots on the ground conflict his family is drawn into in New Orleans.

Kip trotted down to the Square where shops were closed and the street vendors still packing up had nothing to share, making him almost ready to give up when he approached a girl in Bohemian garb standing on an overturned crate taking down some nice sketches from the fence around the inner park. When he called out to her, she yelled back over her shoulder, “Sorry, closed for the night, but your face and your fortune can be first in line tomorrow.”

That’s when he noticed a card table draped with sparkly scarves holding various crystals, now cold candles, a large deck of strange cards, a battered cash box and a sign in the same bold pen and ink style as her portraits proclaiming “Mademoiselle Ophelia Sees All.” He hoped so.

She stepped down off the crate, turned, looking up, way up, and smiled with a flirtatious, “But for yours, I’ll make an exception.”

Kip grinned because she was damned cute with her heart-shaped face, upturned nose, sassy red lips, and curvy figure all wrapped up in bangles and colorful flowing fabrics - definitely more pixie than voodoo queen.

“I was wondering if I might ask you some questions, ma’am, if you have the time.”

“Ma’am?” she challenged, making him blush. “I can’t be more than a minute older than you. Let me see your hand.”

You can check out my character card reading with its Q&A on writing, on YouTube (and remember, I am by NO means a video star wannabe!) 


I've got a loooong weekend continuing into Monday and Tuesday, and am using it to finish the first draft of PRINCE OF FOOLS, and to introduce our new 7-week old kitten Keanu to his surroundings and feline roommates. (Maybe Ed's blogging partner can give me some insights from the furry side). Here's his adorable face. C'mon, a collective Awwww!



Happy Just-starting-to-heat-up Summer! And a safe and glorious 4th of July!!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

WeWriWa: The Love that Launched a Dozen Books - On Sale!


When it's good, it's very, very good. When it's bad, it's heartbreaking. That's when you know you've fallen for a fictional couple. When Max and Cee Cee appeared on my computer page almost ten years ago, I knew I was in for four books to tell their story, starting with MASKED BY MOONLIGHT. Fans were rabid for more but my publisher wanted to branch out with secondary characters from the "By Moonlight" world with the "Shadows" books. It wasn't until I decided to self-publish that I returned to my first fiction love, that between my shapeshifter bad boy and his NOPD detective in REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT. But it had been a looong time since they'd shared main pages and new readers didn't know them very well so, in keeping with where the plot had taken them, I brought my fav couple back . . . to fall in love all over again when she rescues him from the hands of their enemies only to find out they'd stolen his memories. Here's a sneak peek . . . (for the rest of the scene, skip over to Paranormal Romantics where I'm also posting today.)


The soft mist upon her face woke Cee Cee from uneasy dreams, dreams of faceless Chosen minions pursuing her through a labyrinth of hospital corridors as she pushed a gurney that held Max Savoie beneath the drape of a sheet. Just as she managed to angle them inside the safety of an elevator and close the doors upon their enemies, she pulled the sheet back to reveal, not her lover, but a mannequin with features molded to look like his.

She sat up with a gasp to glance about, heart still pounding. His scent quieted her fears, that unmistakable fragrance of masculine heat and bonding pheromones, as unique as any fingerprint.

Turning toward the open doors that let in the refreshing weather along with the cool wash of rain, she could just make out the silhouette of a figure at the porch rail. Pulse stumbling then kicking up a notch as she detailed his long lines and lonely pose, Cee Cee slipped out of bed, wearing just an oversized Saints T-shirt, and crossed the moisture-peppered floor to stand in the doorway, letting herself fill up with the sight of him. His white shirt, damp and nearly transparent, molded to the muscles beneath it. Black hair plastered to his head, as sleek as the sheets on their bed. He didn’t move but she knew he was aware of her because he now breathed through parted lips.

Nor did he attempt to evade her when her right hand covered his where it rested on the railing, fingers slowly spreading, inviting hers between them.


Now for the good part! REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT is only $1.99 through June 30 as part of my "From Midnight to Moonlight" price slashing tour! What a great way to jump into a great series (or two)! And . . . BONUS . . . I'm giving away a $10 Amazon gift card for some lucky tour goer. Follow this LINK to find out more. 


And if the excerpt wasn't enough to convince you, enjoy this sexy visual of REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT.



Happy Beginning of Summer and Happy Reading! Now, to see what my WeWriWa pals have been working on . . .


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

WeWriWa: Sink Your Teeth Into Great Reads and a Gift Card Giveaway!!


  


She walks in beauty . . . That describes the heroines from both books in my “Prices Slashed” book tour. Rae Bordon (MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE, “Touched by Midnight” vampire series- $.99!) and Charlotte Caissie (REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT, “By Moonlight” shapeshifter series-$1.99!) are both fiercely dedicated detectives forced to step outside the boundaries of the job to protect those they love in a world beyond anything they ever imagined. Vampires, shapeshifters . . . what’s a girl to do but hang onto her cool and wade right in like a boss.

Meet Rae Bordon in today’s excerpt. She’s undercover at a high-class D.C. nightclub offering ala carte (and other worldly) surprises to their wealthy clientele when in-over-his-head newly hired Louisiana attorney Nick Flynn recognizes her from the tragic scene of last week’s snippet’s shocking events. She’s not what he expected . . .


The surprise stopped him dead in his tracks. 

The woman from the Grovers’s house. How could he mistake those incredible green eyes? 

He hadn’t thought her particularly glamorous that first meeting where she’d looked like a long night on the Red-Eye, but here, under the muted pseudo-candle glow of the Noir, she sparkled, a jewel reflecting flame. 

He hadn’t remembered her as being particularly tall. Perhaps it was the dress, a sheath of liquid bronze cut to the navel and slit up to the hip bone, in combination with stiletto heels. The unashamedly broad shoulders bared and equal to carrying any burden, or the blazing glory of her hair, teased up to the envy of any country singer and highlighted with a dusting of winking glitter. But despite a statuesque build, the eye-popping display of bosom, legs that went on longer than most new television series and the glam clothes, there was a hint of vulnerability in the pale shade she’d chosen to shape the line of her lips, a fragility to the porcelain fairness of her skin even as it soothed over nicely defined muscle. And there was a glint of the dangerous in those constantly moving emerald eyes. 

Here was a woman he wanted to know. 

Not only in over his head, but soon to be sucked into (snort!) things way above his pay grade, things like blackmail and betrayal on a seductively dangerous preternatural level that he’s bound to in blood.

Follow along with the Tour, take advantage of the fiendishly low-priced introductions to two dark, deadly and addictive series, and enter for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card! I’ll see my WeWriWa pals next week with an intro to CeeCee from the “By Moonlight” series.



Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

WeWriWa: Crisis of Conscience

I'm taking a break from PRINCE OF FOOLS excerpts as I enter my last 100 pages of the first draft, so I'm turning to a different kind of break - a break at the checkout. BelleBooks has listed a price break to $0.99 on my vampire romance MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE so I decided to double the discount with a price slash to $1.99 on REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT, the book that brings the Terriot clan down off their mountain to tangle in New Orleans, leading into my current "House of Terriot" series. The price drop runs from June 16-30, so I'll be using the rest of June's weekends to bring back fond memories of those two titles. Here are the deets:


There are still openings in the tour!


MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE comes toward the end of my "Touched by Midnight" series but it's a particular favorite because its hero, Nick Flynn is an attorney (as these folks still pay my weekly salary, yeah for attorneys!!) Only as Nick is invited to join a new exclusive D.C. firm, he starts having doubts about their integrity in this revealing snippet:

“Just a moment,” Grover interrupted, his voice filled with a renewed tensile strength, “I need my glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer, but instead of a 20/40 prescription, came up with a snub-nosed .38. 

Nick froze while beside him, Kaz looked momentarily startled from his smugness . . . just before Grover pulled the trigger. 

“No!” Nick cried, surging up from his chair, lunging across the desk to halt the concluding action, the report of the pistol echoed through his head even as he reared back from the dampness splattering his face. 

“Sonofabitch,” Zanlos growled, jerking the papers away before they could be contaminated by Grover’s defiant response. 

Nick collapsed into his seat, staring at the ruin of the man before him, and as he sat, dazed and disbelieving, he watched Kaz stuff a pen into the limp fingers to scrawl out an obviously practiced signature on the final page before he returned the contract to Nick’s briefcase and looked to him impatiently. 

“Let’s go. We got what we came for.” 

Nick had gotten much more than he’d bargained for. 

What kind of firm was he working for?

Okaaaay, I'm sure I wouldn't want to be notarizing that contract! Poor Nick! His heart's desire and now he's got a crisis of conscience - and he didn't even know he had one! Just wait until my heroine starts twisting those troubles tighter. Here's a look at MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE.


This time, he could lose his soul . . .

An invitation to join an exclusive D.C. law firm seems like a chance for Nick Flynn to leave his mistakes behind. But it's his shadowy past and unrealized inheritance that attracted his mysterious employers. Once embroiled in their dark schemes, his struggle for success becomes a battle for his immortal soul.

And she could lose her life . . .

Loner detective Rae Borden goes undercover as a call girl to discover the truth about her best friend's death. Her carefully laid plan of revenge and personal redemption becomes a crusade against an unbelievable evil . . . with Nick Flynn in the middle.

"Nancy Gideon is one of the best supernatural writers on the market today!"— Midwest Book Review/BookWire

Hope you all are busy writing. I know it's nose to the grindstone for me. Last 100, here I come!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

IWSG: There's No Quitting in Writing!


The Insecure Writers' Support Group question for the month of June is: Did you ever say "I quit?" If so, what happened to make you come back to writing?

My nearly 70-book career started back in the '80s, so I've been through just about every up and down in the Romance genre from the first bodice being torn to fifty shades of awful writing. You'd think my skin would be thick enough to upholster a city bus seat after all this time, but time and numbers isn't always a magic bullet to ward off discouragement.

For my first ten years, I'd written 33 novels without a break in multi-book contracts from three major New York publishers. Then, at the end of the '90s, publishing was hit with a decimating midlist crisis. Only seasoned bestsellers and newcomers who'd work for next to nothing could get a contract as lines folded and wholesalers disappeared. And long-producing authors like myself got the "CALL" . . . not the good kind. My agent delivered the news that my publisher wasn't offering a new contract, and, along with THAT news, she suggested we part company and wished me luck. For months, I didn't tell anyone, not even my super supportive critique group, too embarrassed, too stunned, too ashamed that I'd failed as a writer. Better to just slink away. A non-earner for the first time since my children were born, I applied for a 9-to-5 and was hired the next day. I went out to buy proper work clothes, figuring that was that. I'd given my dream a shot, had a good trajectory, but ultimately, missed the mark.

Those who know me, can probably hear me saying, "Waah, waah, waah! Get over it and get on with it!" which is exactly what my critique group said. Not that I wanted to hear it, but they finally got me to listen to my own advice. I started back with cautious baby steps with a small paranormal press and was soon selling again to one of my old New York houses. Then contracting again with a former editor's assistant who'd landed a new job with another publisher.

When self-publishing cut the legs out from under New York, and midlist took another tumble, it was hard, frustrating, and yes, tear-inducing to move forward, but my friends and readers helped my creative ego rally. I mean I was already working full-time so, why not? Why not take a chance on those dreams that continue to define me, even though no longer financially support me? What else could coax me to get up at 4:30 every morning? Only something I love.

So, on a parting note (snort!), here's my take on disappointment, if I could disco-skate . . .



Happy writing. Reach for those dreams. And while you're at it, visit my fellow IWSG pals listed below to see how they bounced back from writing a final The End.

And as a parting gift on the Wild Side, I'll be posting Thursday, June 8th as part of a week-long Facebook Event, as one of the Romance Writers Gone Wild for fun, books galore and some awesome giveaways!



Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer - aim for a dozen new people each time.


The awesome co-hosts for the June 7th posting of the IWSG will be JH Moncrieff, Madeline Mora-Summonte, Jen Chandler, Megan Morgan, and Heather Gardner!
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!

Twitter hashtag is #IWSG

Sunday, June 4, 2017

WeWriWa: Nothing But a Gold Digger


Nothing like meeting his family and knowing you fall far, far short of their expectations. He’s a prince of a guy from a distant clan of obnoxious wealth that pridefully excludes outsiders. She has nothing to offer except a mysterious past and another man’s child. Just another of the many obstacles to a happily-ever-after our heroine in PRINCE OF FOOLS reflects upon in today's 8-10 line excerpt:


The startled look in Cale's eyes when he considered the two of them together taunted her. What made her so different than his brother's usual choice of female, the fact that she worked for a living, that she wasn't of their clan, their status, their circle? That she wore bargain clothes and colored her own hair, couldn't afford a car or a dishwasher, that she had a child and secret she wouldn't share? Or that she wasn't in any way, shape or form worthy of him?

The Terriot king was wondering if she was a gold digger out for his family's money, and she couldn't blame him. Terriot money wasn't the attraction. It was the sultry smile she received when they got to the bike and Rico fit his helmet on her head, and the way he pulled her arms tightly about his body before they left the lot. No amount of prestige or cash could compare to what she held onto.

Her every fantasy in the flesh.

Tonight, he was hers, trapped between the squeeze of her thighs as the bike's vibration buzzed through her system to jump start what was waiting . . . just the two of them, finally alone. 

Doesn't sound like they're going to let the opinion of others get in their way . . . at least, not yet.

The second the term gold digger surfaced in my text, I couldn't keep this song from playing in my head. I'm no Kanye fan but Jamie Foxx wails one heck of catchy refrain. May it get your head nodding this Sunday morning.


Having passed the 300 page mark, I'll be enjoying my Chapter 20, right after I visit your snippets.

Happy Writing and Happy Sneaking into Summer!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.