Archive for March, 2017
Perhaps another teeny obsession. I have about three of them. And then I made one up with the help of a wonderful friend. I’m still trying to figure out what exactly I want in a calendar and what I need.
So, do you have suggestions of yearly calendars with extra space in them for other things? Let me know.
I am of war and have no home that I call my own. Destruction was my closest bedfellow until I was given to a goddess to pay my penance. Now set free I am adrift with my nomadic ways. Home for me is just a place to rest until I move on to another. I know I do not deserve a place or anyone to call mine. Yet I cannot resist her.
Candace Jermaine is everything I long for but cannot dare to expect for my own. She is a woman whose heart is so big that it shines from her with a sultry innocence that I find intoxicating. A scientist who is so dedicated to her work that she shuts all else out. Including me. I question if this is but another test. Another form of penance for all the destructiveness I wrought… but I have found I do not care. She is in my blood. Candace is the other half of my soul. Something I never expected to find. Yet I wonder can I, a god who is newly free of the bonds of my past, find a future with a woman who shakes me to my very core. I need Candace more than I ever expected that I would. My need for her goes outside the bounds of her humanity. I want her to join me in forever and beyond.
Candace looked back and her eyes widened.
The man rose from the lake like some mythical god. Water cascaded from his naked, sculptured body. He raised a strong-looking hand and ran blunt fingers through his shoulder-length, black hair. With confidence, he came out of the water. When he reached the shore, he didn’t break stride coming to her. A sudden feeling of being hunted came over her and she backed up, hitting a tree.
He stopped a little distance away from her. At five foot eleven, she didn’t usually feel short, but next to him she did. He was very tall—he had at least eight inches over her.
She studied him. His curly black hair framed an onyx-coloured face that was all planes and angles—broad forehead, high cheeks, full nose, firm chin and full lips. He was extremely handsome…but it was his presence that captivated her. There was a sense of strength yet gentleness about him.
She lowered her gaze. A golden chain hung at his neck, with an oblong pendant covered in symbols. Candace licked her lips at the sight of his broad chest and shoulders. The man made a slight rumbling sound. It snapped her out of her daze.
“Oh, sorry.” Candace turned around.
“It’s okay. You can look now.” His voice was husky and deep.
She faced him. She noted he now had a towel around his waist. Coal-black eyes assessed her. His scrutiny made her shift.
“Sorry, I’m trespassing. I’ll go.”
“That’s okay. Stay. Have some iced tea.” He gestured to a table on the other side of the tree that she hadn’t noticed before.
Candace took a step back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ve been coming by this place for a while. When I saw the house was fixed up I couldn’t resist coming to look,” she finished in a rush.
Way to go, Candace—making yourself sound nosy.
“You’re not interrupting. Sit and have some tea.” The gentleness in his voice stilled her steps.
He took her hand and led her to the table. The tabletop was made of various stone pieces, creating a mosaic. He seated her and poured some tea for them both, then sat next to her. He raised his glass and took a drink of the tea. Candace watched his throat move. He lowered the glass to the table, then ran a finger down its side. She shivered, imagining how it would feel against her body. Taking a breath, Candace tried to control her uncharacteristic reaction.
If money was no object, where would you like to live in the world?
Back to romance this week. Marliss Melton is a favorite author of mine, so been excited to have time to read this novella, Code of Silence.
Ophelia Price is keeping big secrets from her Navy SEAL husband. If Vinny knew she was pregnant, he might hinder her efforts to expose the corrupt lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania, a man intent on keeping his criminal actions hidden and buried in the past. Sniffing out corruption is what Ophelia does best. Becoming a mother?—That’s a job she feels unfit to fill. But when her target catches wind of her intent and Ophelia becomes his prey, she realizes too late what she values most.
It’s not until his wife goes missing that Vinny discovers she’s kept him intentionally in the dark. He never would have imagined she’d betray his trust so deeply, jeopardizing everything he holds dear. Can he forgive her, or will Ophelia pay the ultimate price for deceiving her soul mate?
Oh yeah, I’m totally in for this ride.
Another obsession I have. Can’t lie. I love the different smells. Right now in my office I have eucalyputs mint, smoked vanilla, juiperberry & pine, and iced vanilla woods to fit all my moods.
Do you have a favorite scented candle? #luvcandles
Major Erich Stark swore under his breath as a woman shot out from the back of Atlantis and damn near ran over him. As it was, she hit him dead on and he grabbed her arm to not only steady her but also keep her from falling to the ground.
“Easy there,” he drawled.
Her head jerked up and he found himself gazing into a pair of dark brown eyes framed by thick black lashes. Smooth mocha skin covered her lithe body. A heart shaped face with a flatter, cute button nose. Full, tempting lips were parted in shock and surprise.
“Con permiso,” she mumbled in a raspy alto voice and stepped out of his hold.
Erich’s gaze skimmed her and he couldn’t stop the flare of desire. She wore a pair of white cotton pants, which sat low on her hips and a gold cutoff shirt that exposed flat, defined abdominals and the shapely tuck of her waist. Damn! She’s in awesome shape. Still, none of it took away from her femininity. “No problem,” he said, not minding at all how she felt in his arms. “You new here? I don’t ever remember seeing you dance here before.”
Her arched brows snapped together and her chin lifted in haughty arrogance. “Excuse me?” she barked in English.
He pointed to the building she’d just vacated. “The Atlantis. You just came from the back, like employees do. So I’ll ask again, are you new here?”
Erich fought the urge to shuffle his feet as her gaze seared him. No woman since his mother had ever wielded the power to make him squirm. Until now. She raked her gaze from the top of his head down to his boots and back up again.
“And I suppose you know all of the ladies that work there, don’t you?” she asked in a sharp tone.
Her condescension raised his hackles. “You have a problem with men going to these places and yet you’re coming out of one? How else do you earn money if you don’t have patrons?”
“I’m surprised you would recognize my face at all. I’m sure that’s not what you’re used to paying attention to.”
She’s mighty snippy. Not that it mattered to Erich. He liked his women with fire. The desire to needle her a bit more roared over him with the force of a gale . Dropping his gaze he stared at her open toed sandals and smiled at the metallic green polish on her toes. A gold chain with small bells circled her left ankle. And around her right one was a tattoo he longed to get a closer look at.
“Tonight your first night?” he queried. I’m coming back to see you dance, whoever you are.
“You know, not everyone who leaves an establishment like this…a gentleman’s club…works in one. Some women are capable of and actually enjoy making a living without gyrating around a pole, and having men leer at them.”
She pushed by him and Erich turned and watched her walk to a waiting convertible and jump in over the door. A low growl left him when he saw the handsome younger man at the wheel kiss her cheek then drive them both away.
“Hey Erich,” the sound of a voice pulled his head back around. It belonged to Donovan “Livewire” Leegen, friend and pilot.
“Donovan, what’s up?” he asked his friend.
“You know Bliss?” his friend questioned, peering past him in the direction the car had left.
“Bliss?” Erich’s body hardened as the vixen’s image popped back into his mind. Bliss. That is a damn good name for her. What’s Donovan doing here?
“Yes, Bliss. The dancer.” Donovan frowned at him. “Dude, you were just talking to her. Hot as all get-out. A body made for—”
Narrowing his eyes at his friend, Erich ground out in a tone laced with death, “If you value your life, Captain Leegen, you’ll refrain from completing that sentence.”
His fists were clenched at his sides and he longed to smash one into Donovan’s face. Hell, why not both? It didn’t make sense, but he wanted nothing more than to stop the phrase coming from the other man’s mouth. Preferably with a violent manner. Bliss, if that was her name, was his.
Donovan arched a blond brow at him and crossed his arms. “What does it matter to you what I say about her?”
“She. Is. Mine.”
The second she walked into my arms. Setting his jaw, Erich lifted a brow of his own and stared at Donovan. He wasn’t backing down from this. Granted he hadn’t known her for a longer than about two minutes, and that hadn’t even included a formal introduction. But it didn’t matter.
“Don’t fuck with me on this, Leegen,” he bit off.
Green eyes narrowed. “Jesus, Daredevil, you’re serious.”
“Deadly.” Erich didn’t even flinch at the use of his call name.