What would make a normally peaceful man lose his cool? Someone disrespecting the woman he loves, even if he didn’t realize he loves her until this happens. It's another 20 Days of Love, and Chicki Brown's A Song For You is heating up the pages...

I grabbed Breelyn’s hand and pulled her back into the mass of bodies moving to the music for two more songs before I put my arm around her waist and walked her back to our table. The club had gotten crowded, and someone else had taken our seats even though we’d left our glasses there.

“Excuse me, man,” I said to the greasy-looking dude wearing a loud Hawaiian print beach hat who was reclining with his legs splayed out in front of him in the seat I’d vacated. “This table was occupied.”

He picked up his drink and took his time draining the glass. “It wasn’t when I got here.” His words
slurred slightly,

“Come on, man. You knew someone was sitting here, or the glasses would’ve been cleared away.”I tried to reason with him.

“Go to hell!” He returned to his slouched position with his meaty arms folded as though he owned the place.

Breelyn’s body tensed against my side. I squeezed her waist before I released her and took a step toward the visibly tipsy guy. If the place hadn’t been so crowded, I might have found another place to sit, but this was a matter of principle. The stupid shit-eating grin he sent me pissed me off.

“I’m going to say this one more time,” I said, standing over him. “The lady and I were sitting here. Find yourself another spot.”

“Take that yellow ho somewhere else. I ain’t moving.”

By now we had drawn the attention of people around us. If he’d merely disrespected me, I could’ve let it slide, but he’d insulted Breelyn in the vilest way. My face was burning. I grabbed the front of his sweaty t-shirt and slammed him back in his seat. His head hit the wall with a loud thump. Breelyn gasped and jumped back when the chair came out from under him and jostled the table. Our glasses went flying and crashed to the floor in a hail of ice cubes.

He was big, but he was fat not fit. He lifted his considerable bulk, swung at me and clipped my jaw. Automatically, I hit him with a sharp right cross to his left cheekbone. A string of curses shot out of his mouth. He came for me with a fury. I widened my stance, dropped into a crouch and swiped his leg. The kick took him off his feet and sent him crashing into the tables behind him.

Before he could struggle up from the floor and retaliate, club security had pushed through the crowd.

“What the hell is going on here?” one of them asked.

Spectators sitting near all jumped to answer his question squarely laying the blame on big boy. Two security men picked him up and dragged him to the exit. I turned around and found Breelyn looking stunned and breathing hard. Her eyes stretched wide and one hand covered her mouth. The other was twisting a strand of her hair around her index finger.

My immediate response was to wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t mean for this to happen on our first date. Maybe we should leave.”

“We can go back to my apartment,” she said softly and licked her bottom lip.

I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a sparkle in her eyes. She took hold of my arm, and we started towards the exit. On the way, a brother approached me and introduced himself as the club manager. Are you and the lady all right? My security men just told me what happened. I want to apologize on behalf of Jazzy Bones.”

“We’re fine. Appreciate the apology, though.”

“We’ve had trouble with that clown before. From now on he’s banned from the club. You don’t have to leave. Stay and have another drink or dinner on us.”

Breelyn shook her head.

“Thanks, but I’m going to get her back home.”

“No problem. One of the guys will follow you outside and make sure he didn’t come back. If you’re ever looking for a job, our security staff could use somebody with your skills.”

I laughed at the thought. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.” We worked our way through the crowd and outside to the parking lot. The security man waited until I got Breelyn into the car and pulled off before he went back inside.

After a few moments of silence, she said, “What you did in there was unbelievable.” Her voice held a hint of wonder. “You didn’t even break a sweat.”

“One of the benefits of MMA, my regular workout. This is the first time I’ve ever had to use it outside of the gym. I’m sorry he disrespected you.”

“I’ve been called worst.” She rested a hand on my knee, leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

One of the hardest parts of interacting with women was learning to read their signals. If you misread an action, it could ruin not only an evening but the possibility of a relationship. I had the feeling Breelyn wanted to get closer, but I had to play this carefully. The kiss could’ve merely been a thank you for my chivalry, but I needed to know for sure, so I hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face to mine. My lips brushed hers. Nothing deep or frenzied, just a light gentle touch. “It’s not even eleven yet, is there somewhere we can go for coffee?”

“I have coffee at home. Tangie bought a Keurig for her store, and it convinced me to get one for my kitchen. If you really want coffee, you can have some there.” Her voice took on a low, sexy tone.

No, I hadn’t read her wrong. 

Contemporary women’s fiction/romance author Chicki Brown has been featured in USAToday. She was the 2014 B.R.A.B. (Building Relationships Around Books) Inspirational Fiction Author and also the 2011 SORMAG (Shades of Romance Magazine) Author of the Year. Her novel, Don't Stop Till You Get Enough, was chosen as a USAToday 2016 HEA Must-Read Romance.

Nia Forrester, Beverly Jenkins, Lisa Kleypas, J.R. Ward are among her favorite authors.

A transplanted New Jersey native who lives in Atlanta, Georgia.

Blog - http://sisterscribbler.blogspot.com
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/chicki.brown
Twitter - https://twitter.com/Chicki663
Google+ - http://plus.google.com/u/0/+ChickiBrown/

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Welcome back to 20 Days of Love, where featured author, Té  Russ is sharing her novel, Runaway Love. She never fails to entertain us with her feisty heroines and smooth heroes, and today's excerpt is no exception...

"Anyway, I'm more interested in the way talking about him has you all flustered."

"I am not flustered," Michelle argued.

"You were literally just stumbling over your words a few minutes ago," Laurel pointed out. "What's the deal between the two of you?"

"There's no deal...Like I said I've run into him a few times."

"And what was your conversation about today that's got you so riled up."

"He bought me shoes."

"That bastard," Laurel gasped, feigning shock. "Why would he do such a thing?"

Michelle went on to explain to Laurel their run-in at the park. 

"So, wait," Laurel said. "You mean to tell me, that he bought you some sensible shoes after you nearly broke your ankle? Oh yeah, he's a terrible, terrible man, Michelle."

"Whatever, Lo," Michelle said, as she looked down at the shoes. 

"I wonder if the actual issue is it that you like him, and it's freaking you out?"

"I do not like him."

"You've never been a good liar, sweetie."

"I can't like him, I don't even know him to like him.”

"Well...change that. You're there. He's there. Get to know him. You're obviously attracted to him. Why not find out if the feeling is mutual?”

~~~~~



"The big dipper actually isn't a constellation, it's an asterism...a pattern or group of stars. It's part of the Ursa Major, also known as the celestial Great Bear. There are many different mythos on the constellation and..."

Michelle looked up at the sky and squinted as the guide continued on. She decided at the last minute to come out on the stargazing hike she'd read about online.

She sighed, looked down at the pamphlet they'd given her when she'd first arrived and then looked back up.

"Having trouble?"

At the sound of Luke's voice, Michelle whirled around and found him staring at her.

"Hi," Luke said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Hello, Luke," Michelle said, as she began to walk again.

"I gotta admit," Luke said, walking in stride alongside Michelle. "I wouldn't have imagined you to be into astronomy."

"You shouldn't make assumptions about people you don't know, Mr. LeRoux," Michelle said. It didn't matter to her that his assumption was dead on, she was still annoyed by it. "And you're slowing us down, we're missing the guide's storytelling."

"I can tell you stories about the stars," Luke said with a grin.

When Michelle didn't respond, he continued on, pointing up at the sky. "That constellation there is called Andromeda."

Michelle stopped again and looked up to where he was pointing.

"It's said that her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, boasted that she was more beautiful than the Nereids, sea nymphs. Well that shit pissed off the Nereids, and they went to Poseidon, who decided to send a sea monster to destroy their land. The king went to an oracle to find out how they could save their land and was told that they'd have to sacrifice Andromeda. His punk ass went along with it and they tied her to a sea cliff to await her death."

Michelle glanced over at Luke and found him staring at her again.

"So...that's how she died?" she found herself asking.

Luke's lip quirked up and he shook his head. "Nah, as she was out there waiting to die, Perseus rolled up on her. He'd recently completed a life-threatening mission, killing Medusa. You've heard of her, right?"

"The one who turns people to stone," Michelle said.

Luke nodded, "I bet with that glare of yours–"

"Finish the damn story."

"Anyway," Luke continued. "Perseus saw Andromeda, heard her screaming for her life and went to rescue her. He pulled out Medusa's severed head and held it up to the sea monster, turning it to stone. Perseus freed Andromeda and they instantly fell in love and got married."

"No such thing."

"Pardon?"

"Instantly falling in love," Michelle grumbled. "There's no such thing."

"That's another debate for another time," Luke chuckled. He looked up to the sky again. "After Andromeda's death, Athena placed Andromeda's image in the sky, between Perseus and Cassiopeia."
Michelle let out a scoff. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere near that bitch, in life or the afterlife. Leaving me to die?"

Luke threw his head back and laughed.

"You are something else, Nubia."

She remembered him saying that to her at the park.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she asked as they started walking again.

"You've never heard of Nubia?" Luke asked. "From the comic books...black Wonder Woman?"

"Comic books?" Michelle repeated. "Figures you'd be into that kinda thing."

"Figures...what is that supposed to mean?" Luke asked. He stopped and turned to face her. "Ooooh, you finally looked me up, didn't you?"

"No," Michelle huffed.

"You're a terrible liar, Michelle," Luke taunted. "You did your little Google search and figured that it must automatically mean that I'm into all things nerd, like comic books, right?"

"That's not–"

"Didn't you just say a few minutes ago that you shouldn't make assumptions about people you don't know?"

As Michelle opened her mouth to say...she wasn't quite sure what she was going to say, the guide spoke up.

"That concludes the end of our tour. You're free to stay out and stargaze a while longer, or you can head back to the lodge. We have a few refreshments and hot cocoa."

She wanted to be annoyed with Luke for making her miss the last portion of the tour, but she honestly wasn't. Although she was annoyed by the way he'd managed to get her flustered...again.

"You have an...interesting way of storytelling," she said.

"And you have an interesting way of deflecting."

They stood staring at each other for several long, heated seconds.

Luke was the first one to break their eye contact. Michelle watched as he looked down and smiled.

"Nice shoes," he said.

"Oh...yeah...well, I figured they wouldn't be completely useless out here."

"You have a funny way of saying thank you."

"Thank you, Lucas, for the shoes. They're quite comfortable. And..."

"And...what, Michelle?"

"I apologize for the way I reacted over them the other day."

"Apology accepted. On one condition."

"What condition?" Michelle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Have dinner with me. Tonight."

Download Runaway Love: Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079T2T121/

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Welcome to a brand new week, a week of empowered living, Almighty God's amazing grace, and extended mercies. Today's Motivational Monday Moment comes from author, Sheena Binkley. Read on...

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Today's 20 Days of Love demonstrates a love between best friends and the frustration that sets up when one of the actors is pledged to someone else. Read Eartha Watts-Hicks, Love Changes...

Mia Love is struggling with a newborn baby, a live-in commitment-phobe, and a handsome, flirtatious best friend, trying to ease his way in. Torn between the father of her baby and her male bestie....LOVE CHANGES.

At the curb, I threw my arm up to hail a taxi, wondering if I had enough for the fare. Reaching into my purse for my wallet, I noticed I didn’t feel my keys. I ran my hand across the bottom. Nothing. I realized where they were. Taking a deep breath, I looked to my left. Less than half a block away a peanut vendor was roasting nuts from the cart, releasing a honey-sweet aroma, but the thought of eating the peanuts was not as appealing as the thought of hurling them at Romell and sending his ass into anaphylactic shock.I looked back at the doorway of Pookie’s just as Romell came stepping out, hands in the pockets of his black slacks, two plastic bags hanging at his left. Because he works out a lot, his posture’s erect but his swagger seemed looser than ever. Still, I saw tension in his face. No dimples now, he had lockjaw. He looked at me, cockeyed. “No cab? Or did you just realize you left your keys?”

I didn’t answer that, and I didn’t say a word to him in the cab; I tossed my head, flinging my hair back over my shoulder, twisted my body away from him, and crossed my legs. Romell tried to get my attention by whistling Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You.” When that didn’t work, he started pelting my feet with pellets of used chewing gum wrapped in foil, seven pieces in about ten minutes. I figured he was chewing all that gum and spitting it out just to annoy me, but I kept my back to him the entire ride and walked ahead of him into the building. We rode up to the thirty-seventh floor in separate elevators. As soon as he unlocked his door, I bolted into the living room. Even in my slim skirt and croc pumps, I was Flo Jo. My leg banged into his marble cocktail table, sending it spinning around on its axis until the halves formed a circle. I dented my shin, but I wasn’t rubbing my boo-boo. I jumped right on his Slinky sofa, leaned over it, reaching until I snatched my keys up off the rug. Then I made a beeline for the door, hoping I could run right out, but he blocked my exit. When I stepped to the left, he stepped to that side. When I tried to veer to the right, he kept right in front of me. I knew then he would not let me past; I had no choice but to get in his face, “What?”

“You don’t wanna be with me?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t wanna be with me?”

“No, I do not!”

“You show up in stilettos and a little skirt, and you expect me to believe you don’t want me?”

“I did this for Spider.”

“Well, Spider isn’t here now. Is he? And, what about your poem?”

“What about it? I wanted you to know how I feel.”

“Oh, so you admit you have feelings for me?”

“Pah–leese, Romell! That poem is about your situation.”

“My situation, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s the perfect solution.”

“If you think you and I hookin’ up would be the perfect solution, why don’t you just say you want me?”

“Are you mental?”

“How long have you wanted me, Mia? How long?”

“Now, I know you’ve lost it. What makes you think I want you?”

“Your poem! I’ve got it right here.” He patted himself down, pulled a page out of his back pocket and unfolded it in front of me. “There! You say all through this how you’re gonna melt my fears away and how you’re gonna make me feel.”

I looked, reading aloud halfheartedly, “Chocolate Love every day can melt your fears away and have you feeling new. That’s what Chocolate can do.” Then, I shook my head. “And?”

He smacked his baldhead, paced and then, banged the back of it into the wall. “Chocolate, your last name is Love!”

“So? I wrote this to motivate you to embrace black love.”

“Stop it. The only black Love you want me to embrace is you.”

Now, I read the whole thing through. I could see how he could make that assumption. The words
 “Chocolate” and “Love” were both capitalized all the way through the poem, but I didn’t do that intentionally. That connection didn’t even occur to me when I jotted the lines down; my mind was in a totally different place. I laughed, but he didn’t see humor in this, at all. His face was as stiff as steel.
I tried to explain. “I know how this looks, Romell, but that wasn’t the meaning behind this. I meant chocolate as opposed to vanilla or any other flavor. Chocolate is a metaphor for black, and Love is just love, the emotion. Not my last name. That’s just a coincidence.”

“This ain’t no coinki-dink! I told you once before. You won’t be happy until I’m with a woman who’s your height, your weight, and your complexion. What I should have said is you won’t be happy, until I’m with you. Why won’t you just admit it?”

“Hello! I am in a relationship with Spider. Remember him? Real tall, kinda goofy, I love him. Seriously, I was not coming on to you.”

He stood, huffing and puffing for a moment, then looked at me hard. “Did you eat any peanuts?”

“No! What the hell kind of question is—”

I didn’t finish my sentence. The next thing I knew, I felt his warm tongue, stroking mine and tickling the roof of my mouth....


(To see where this scene leads, please purchase the Complete Revised Edition of LOVE CHANGES).

CLICK HERE to PURCHASE
www.tinyurl.com/LoveChangesNovel

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It's another 20 Days of Love, and today Nia Forrester is dropping in to tease our imaginations with a tempting, sensual love. The kind of love that tickles our senses and causes us to keep turning the pages for more. A love between best friends. Read on...

Samantha has been best friends with Colton since they were toddlers. His NBA career has never impressed her, nor would he want it to. Their friendship is based on two things: a long, shared history, and Sam's tendency to keep things real with him, even if the rest of the world doesn't.
 
They’ve got the ‘friends’ part down pat. But after one reckless night, they have to learn how to be lovers. For him, it means they go on as before, except now … there’s sex. But for her, it means they need a total relationship makeover.

“Is this a habit with y’all?”

Sam looked up at Aidan. “Is what a habit? And who’s ‘y’all’?”

Inclining his head toward the other end of their table, he indicated Colt and Janelle, apparently deep in conversation.

“You, and your boy. Hooking up with folks and making a group date out of it.”

“Oh, are we on a date?” Sam asked. “I thought we were all just hanging out.”

Aidan shrugged. “I guess I just wish we were someplace quieter. So you and me could get to know each other better.”

They had all left Bar One and met up again at the tapas restaurant in Metro Center. It was larger, and noisier than the bar, and they had ordered a feast—ten small plates—with two pitchers of sangria, and a bottle of white wine for the table.

“We can do that some other time,” Sam suggested.

At that, Aidan grinned. He had been brazenly monopolizing her since they were seated, staking out his claim to the chair next to hers. His cousin, Rich and Rich’s fiancée had Janelle’s friend occupied; and Colt and Janelle were talking with heads close together at the other end of their table. Janelle’s hand had been resting on Colt’s arm, not moving for what had to be the past half hour. But who was counting?

“Lemme see your phone,” Aidan said holding out a hand.

Sam reached down and fished into her purse, pulling it out, and unlocking it. Aidan took it from between her fingers and entered his information before handing it back.

“Because I have a feeling you’re going to disappear like Cinderella at midnight.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because your boy down there? He’s not really into ol’ girl.”

Sam glanced in Colt and Janelle’s direction. To her, it looked like very much the opposite. The way they were leaning in like that, the whole thing. It was all very … cozy. She reached for her wine and took a long sip.

“What makes you say that?” she asked when she put it down.

“He’s looking down here. Out of the corner of his eyes. Been doing it since we got here. He’s not really paying attention to her.”

Sam looked again. And this time, she paid attention, seeing past the obvious and focusing on the details. Colt was leaning in to Janelle, sure. But his face was angled away from her. He wasn’t making eye contact.

And Janelle’s hand, though it rested on his forearm, now looked less than intimate. Now, it looked grasping, and almost desperate, like she was struggling to hold Colt’s attention, and knew that she wasn’t succeeding.

Sam almost smiled.

“See?” Aidan said.

Sam nodded wordlessly, then looked at her “date” again. “Interesting,” was all she could muster without sounding too pleased.

Aidan shrugged again. “I’m a dude. And I know how dudes act when we’re into someone. He’s not into her. The person he’s into, is down here.”

Sam pulled back. “Down where?”

“Here.”

“What makes you think …?” She shook her head, picking up her wine again, horrified by how much delight Aidan’s observation caused her. “Colt and I have been friends since we were kids. He’s just overprotective, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Aidan sounded unconvinced. “How about we make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?”

“If he makes it till …” Aidan looked at his watch. “If he makes it till midnight without telling you it’s time to leave, then we go on a real date. Just the two of us. If he asks you to leave before midnight, then we go on two dates.”

Sam laughed. “Wait. What? I don’t get how you lose with either option.”

“If he asks you to leave before midnight and you do it, then that tells me I’m going to need at least two dates with me to get him out of your system.”

“He’s not in my system,” Sam said. “He’s like a brother.”

“Cool. So then scratch the bet, and just agree to go out with me.”

Sam laughed again. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“Nah. Just determined.”

“We don’t need the bet,” Sam said. “I’d love to go out with you.” 
 
**********
 
Eleven fifty-three p.m.

That was a respectable time to head home on a Friday night. In just a minute, Colt planned to put the kibosh on this whole night. After fixing her latrine, he should have just posted up at Sam’s and watched ‘Homeland’ or something. Watching shows like that with her was as exasperating as it was amusing. She always lost the narrative thread and asked questions that she should have known the answer to if she’d been even half-assed paying attention.

‘Wait, who’s Nasir now? Is it that guy who just got blown up, or the curly-haired kid?’

What made it cute was that she always asked at a volume just below a stage-whisper, like they were in a movie-theater, instead of alone in her living room. And when something exciting looked like it was about to happen, that was always when she had to leave the room.

‘Pause it, pause it! I have to refill my glass. You want something?’

And then there would be an awkward freeze-frame on her television—a partly-exploded car, the main character’s face stuck in a farcical grimace, while Colt rolled his eyes. Then she’d return, settle on the sofa next to him and rest her feet in his lap, and asking, ‘Where were we?’ before un-pausing the show. Of course, by then, the dramatic effect was lost, and Colt would have to rewind a few minutes’ worth just to get in the spirit once again.

Colt reached for his glass of water and took a long sip. He had laid off the alcohol more than an hour ago, and now was just hoping to piss it all out, so he could be straight for his workout the next morning. Next to him, Janelle was still chattering up a storm. And he was dutifully nodding and responding when it seemed like a response was called for.

It was funny how he’d never known this about her—that she liked to listen to herself talk. But, why would he have known that? They met in the gym, where conversation was, by necessity, kept to a minimum. And maybe the talking wouldn’t have bothered him as much if the restaurant wasn’t already so doggone loud, and if he wasn’t preoccupied with Sam and her summer-suit-wearing Casanova down there.

Sam didn’t know men. She didn’t know game. But Colt did.

Dude was not the settling-down kind. You could tell by that suit, and his watch. The suit made him look like he was harmless, and that was probably by design. But the watch gave him away—it was showy and expensive, and, Colt believed, probably betrayed his true nature. All sizzle, no steak.

Colt wore a very sensible 88 Rue Du Rhone himself. Moderately expensive, but only expensive because it was high-quality. Not expensive because it was flashy.

He couldn’t believe Sam was falling for dude’s bullshit. And he knew she was falling for it because she was down there at the other end of the table, kiki’ing it up with him, in between guzzling that monster-glass of wine in front of her. By Colt’s count it had been refilled three times. Roughly eighteen ounces of wine. And that wasn’t counting whatever she had to drink at Bar One.

Yeah, it was definitely time to go. He turned to look directly at Janelle for the first time in maybe a half-hour.

“Excuse me,” he said before pushing back from his seat.
 
 
**********

Nia Forrester lives and writes in Philadelphia, PA where, by day, she is an attorney working on public policy and by night, she crafts woman-centered fiction that examines the complexities of life, love and the human condition.
 
If you reach her at authorniaforrester@gmail.com, she will respond.



Visit with the Author at: www.niaforrester.com
Twitter: @NiaForrester
Facebook: www.facebook.com/nia.forrester.1
And check out her books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2EGAXPD

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On today's 20 Days of Love, Mary Finley is sharing a novel about a special love, All Right At The Same Time. That between a mother and a daughter. These relationships can be beautiful, or volatile filled with hurt and pain. Reaching beyond the scars to the true heart can oftentimes be difficult, but worthwhile in the eyes of a daughter.

I read this novel a while ago, and I loved it. It moved my heart to compassion and many scenes filled my eyes to tears. Read on...

Mary A. Finley is owner and CEO of MayRann Speaks Productions LLC and publisher for McCurtain Press. She’s author of the Thicker Than Blood novel series, and publisher/editor of The Jars of Clay Chronicles autobiographical series.

Contact Mary Finley: mayrannspeaksllc@gmail.com

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To join this blog simply click "Follow This Blog," "Subscribe," or "Email" links in the upper right corner.

That thought did a quick fade when I reentered the lobby to see our party had increased with Ronnie and this manly mountain of luscious chocolate that made me want M&M’s, something, to melt in my mouth and my hands.

“I thought you fell in,” LaVelle complained.

“Hey, Cuz.” Ronnie gave me his long, lanky embrace. “Come meet my frat brother, Que.”

I would if I could. The moment that man turned those candy bar-colored eyes on me, I was stuck on stupid.

Unfolding his fine self from that pleather lobby seat, he was casually dressed and looking like something from a calendar of Black Kings. “I’m Que.” He had a rich, velvety baritone that reached down deep, massaging me. “And you are?”

A woman with an egg in her ovary waiting on you.

“I’m Joy.” Accepting the hand he extended, I felt that zip-zap like when we were kids and intentionally rubbed our feet on the carpet then touched each other, hollering, “Zing!” Yeah, that. Static electricity. Wasn’t nothing static about it. That warmth seized my hand and was busy creeping. “I’m LaVelle’s cousin.”

“Beauty runs in the family.”

“So does diabetes, but I don’t want any.” Velle enjoyed her own foolery.

Que merely smiled, exposing a single dimple deep in his left cheek.

I wanted to lick it. Bet it tasted like Ghiradelli chocolate.

Thankfully, that little buzzer thing restaurants hand out decided to vibrate and kept me from jumping ridiculous.

“Table’s ready,” Yazmeen announced, like couldn’t nobody but her hear or see the buzzer flashing atop her lap. Hopping up, she chimed, “Joy…you coming?”

I wanted to punch Yaz in her throat for calling attention to the fact that I was right where I was moments ago, holding the manly mountain’s hand. I released a grip that wasn’t too eager to release me.

Ignoring Yazmeen’s grinning with all thirty-two teeth, I popped Candace on the arm. “Girl, wake up.”

The nut actually snorted. “I’m resting my eyes. I’m not sleep.”

“Tell that to the drool dripping down your lip.” I was shocked by the instant warmth washing down my spine when Chocolate Mountain laughed. I pulled Candace to her feet, needing something, anything to distract me. I was too old to feel flutters like a sweet sixteen.
 
As life would have it, I wound up across from Ronnie’s frat brother, which was worse than if we’d sat side-by-side. Now, he was in my line of vision, overloading it with his gorgeousness.

Woowee, somebody! That brother was everything. Not pretty-boy fine, but a bone-deep, manly-man kind of beautiful that made my uterus dip. Hair was low and lined. A neatly trimmed goatee and moustache caressed that chocolate skin. With high cheekbones, he was tall and built like he actually worked out, instead of letting his gym fees pay the light bill (like mine). When he excused himself to the restroom, I copped a good look at a muscled back and strong thighs I wouldn’t mind wrapping with mine. The jeans weren’t tight, but oh so right, handling that luscious behind. And that walk. Honey Bunny was slightly bowlegged, y’all! Downright swagalicious, he looked delicious and nutritious.

Suzette D. Harrison, a native Californian and the middle of three daughters, grew up in a home where reading was required, not requested. Her literary “career” began in junior high school with the publishing of her poetry. While Mrs. Harrison pays homage to Alex Haley, Gloria Naylor, Alice Walker, Langston Hughes, and Toni Morrison as legends who inspired her creativity, it was Dr. Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings that unleashed her writing. The award-winning author of Taffy is a wife and mother who holds a culinary degree in Pastry & Baking. Mrs. Harrison is currently cooking up her next novel…in between batches of cupcakes.
 
 
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Suzette Riddick is warming up those cold, winter nights with her newest novel, Caliente Nights. When an accident between two unsuspecting people turn into something more than either of them bargained for, the ice around their hearts will melt, and they're both in for more than they can imagine. Check out Suzette's 20 Days of Love post and leave a comment for a chance to be entered into her giveaway for a copy of her book, Baby Love...

Nursery school teacher Jeanette Adams is struggling to keep her family owned business afloat. Working days at the school and nights as a department store clerk is taking its toll physically on Jeanette. When things couldn’t get any worse, she finds herself in a situation that will further burden her financially after she crashes into a luxury vehicle. Romance is the last thing on her mind; that is until she comes face to face with the owner, undeniably sexy, Alonzo Castro.

Professional athlete Alonzo Castro has had it with gold-digging women. All he wants is to meet a woman who isn’t interested in his status or bank account. Beautiful, car-wrecking, Jeanette Adams is the breath of fresh air he’s been craving. Determined to make Jeanette his, Alonzo pursues the sassy teacher despite his parent’s desire for him to marry within their nationality.

As the couple’s relationship is thriving their love is tested when Alonzo doesn’t come clean about his past. When his secret is outed by a trusted friend will Jeanette be able to forgive him?

Alonzo’s foul mood evaporated the moment his eyes locked with Jeanette’s. Beautiful was the first word that came rushing to his brain. She wasn’t the statuesque, leggy type he preferred to compliment his six-four height. Her petite stature, caramel complexion, hazel eyes, and full, kissable lips were magnetizing. He wanted to reach out and rub the shoulder-length two-strand twists between his fingers to see if they were as soft as they looked.

His gaze continued to roam as he took in her small breasts outlined in a teal long-sleeve tee shirt, her tiny waist, and snug-fitting jeans showcasing curvy hips. Childbearing hips. He tossed that crazy thought out of his head. His mother’s nagging earlier this morning to settle down with a nice Cuban girl and start a family was messing with him.

Alonzo suppressed the urge to lick his lips. Over sensitized by women throwing themselves at him, it had been forever since he desired a woman on sight. They all looked the same. Cosmetically enhanced breasts, fake eyelashes, caked on makeup, silicon-injected lips, and butts. This Jeanette Adams was on the other end of the spectrum. Her natural beauty was captivating.
 
Oh…my… God… Breathe…Jeanette… Breathe… Who in the world is this Laz Alonso clone? Jeanette wondered. She’d seen just about every movie or television show the sexy, Afro-Latino played in.
Jeanette was nervous as she approached the stranger who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Gloria said he looked unhappy. Did something happen in such a short span of time? She had braced herself to deal with a grizzly bear of a man. Instead, his eyes were slowly taking her in as if he was interested in what he saw. Jeanette quickly shook off that foolishness. This man was here to squeeze money out of her that she didn’t have.

“Hi, my aunt said you were here to see me?’

“Jeanette Adams?”

Surely this angel couldn’t be responsible for the minor dent and scratches on his vehicle.

“Yes,” Jeanette answered, trying to control the shaking in her voice. His penetrating gaze was setting off flutters in her belly.

Alonzo reached into an inner pocket of the black, leather jacket he wore. Jeanette’s face flushed when he pulled out a recognizable piece of paper.

“You left this note on my car?”

“I’m … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit your car. It’s just that I was so tired after working my second job and I put the car in reverse instead of drive and—”

As Jeanette floundered in a feeble attempt to explain her unintentional carelessness, three-year-old Mya entered the room whimpering. On impulse Jeanette went to the child thankful for the interruption. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to take those sexy, dark eyes staring her down.

“Another bad dream, sweetie?” Jeanette softly asked Mya as she stooped down to lift the child’s tiny body into her arms.

Mya snuggled close, tucking her head in Jeanette’s bosom.

Yes,” the child whimpered wiping at moist eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re safe with me,” she whispered, reassuring the child as she made her way back to Alonzo.

Alonzo’s heart melted as Jeanette approached him with the child on her left hip. His mother’s words came rushing back at the uncomfortable pulling in the center of his chest. He came there prepared to lash out at Jeanette for being so careless. After her honest confession and witnessing her tender interaction with the child, there was no way he could go through with being outright mean. And there was no way this woman had purposely staged an accident to wiggle her way into his bed. Truthfully, with her incredibly sexy, petite body he wished that had been her intent. He would have been more than ready to indulge her.

“I’m sorry for the interruption.” Jeanette apologized as she continued to cradle Mya.

“It’s fine. Is she alright?” Alonzo queried with concern, nodding in Mya’s direction.

Jeanette tightened her hold on the tiny body. If she hadn’t, she might have dropped the child. The man’s voice was sexy and deep with a hint of Latin flavor causing her knees to slightly buckle.

“She’ll be fine in a few minutes. As I was saying, I’m sorry about hitting your car. I know what I did was stupid.”

Jeanette’s face turned a tinge of pink. She couldn’t believe she called herself stupid in front of the sexiest man alive. What she was about to say next sent her into a panic thinking about the money she didn’t have for an increase in her premium rate.

“I do have insurance. If you wait a minute I can go get my wallet and give you my information.”

Jeannette didn’t wait for a response as she rushed out of the room through another doorway.

Alonzo’s phone rang. Glancing at the name on the display he answered. “Hey, Julio. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Checking to see what time you’ll be by the restaurant. I have some numbers I want to run by you.”

“I’m in the middle of something. When I’m done here, I’ll swing through.”

“You caught up with the chick who hit your ride?”

“Young lady,” Alonzo corrected.

Julio chuckled. “That’s not what you were calling her last night.”

Alonzo cringed. He had thought the worst of Jeanette before meeting her a few minutes ago, and his colorful name calling hadn’t been too gentlemanly.

“Let’s just say she’s not what I expected her to be.”

“Is she ugly?” his younger brother teased.

This time Alonzo chuckled. “Far from it. Have everything ready for me when I get there.”
“Alright bro. See you later.”

“Later.”

As Alonzo was sliding his phone inside his pocket, Jeanette returned to the room with Mya now on her right hip. She handed him a slip of paper.

“I jotted down my information. I called my insurance company this morning to inform them I had an accident, so they’ll be expecting your call.”

While she was speaking another toddler, this time a little boy, wandered into the room leaning against Jeanette’s left leg. He stared at Alonzo with wide curious eyes.

An emptiness he couldn’t explain settled over him as he watched the children clinging to Jeanette for comfort.

“I can see you’re busy. Why don’t I come back after you close this evening so we can talk?”

What did they have to talk about? Everything he needed was on the paper she’d given him. Was he going to demand she pay out of pocket instead of going through the insurance company? She hoped not! She was dreading the five-hundred-dollar deductible she had to pay that was going to wipe her entire savings out.  Reluctantly, she agreed with a nod.

“Come back at seven.”

When he smiled showing a straight row of white teeth, her knees did that buckling thing again. 

“Seven it is,” Alonzo said as he turned and headed toward the door.

As he reached for the doorknob Jeanette called out, “Hey, what’s your name?”

With his back to her an amused grin curved his lips. She doesn’t know who I am. This could be interesting.

“Alonzo Castro.”

Suzette Riddick is a wife, mother and nurse practitioner who enjoys writing romance novels with real life situations readers can relate to. Suzette is an Amazon bestselling author of African American Romance and was a featured author in USA Today ~ Happy Ever After. She is a native of Philadelphia, PA and enjoys spending time with her family and friends. To learn more about Suzette, her books, and to follow her on social media, visit her website at www.suzetteriddick.com.

CONTACT SUZETTE & DOWNLOAD YOUR COPY OF CALIENTE NIGHTS:

author@suzetteriddick.com and http://bit.ly/CalienteNights & http://bit.ly/suzettebooks

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Welcome back to Motivational Monday Moments. This week our featured writer is Kortni Renea and she's sharing some powerful insight into the vanity that we as women often hold. When I say she wraps it up in a nutshell...it would do us all well to learn this lesson she shares at a young age. So much heartache could be spared. Read on...

Hello everyone! I hope you are all having a great day, I’d first like to start by thanking, Chelle Ramsey for including me in her Monday Motivational Movement post! When it comes to scriptures and books of The Bible, it can be very hard to choose a favorite selection. However, I do have a favorite scripture! My all-time favorite scripture is, “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised” (Proverbs 31:30 KJV).

For me personally, this is not only, a POWERUL scripture, but a very special one as well. When I was twenty-nine, my mother passed away. A month and a half later, I turned the big 3-0! I love watching my younger female friends turn thirty. It’s so fun to witness the transformation that comes with turning thirty, especially once you hit that thirty and a half marker. Once you arrive at that marker, it’s like life is finally starting to make sense! And what you realize, is that when it comes down to life, everything you’ve stressed about and thought was so important in the past, really means nothing. That’s right, in the grand scheme of life, those worries mean absolutely nothing!

What an ex says about you doesn’t matter, because you know who you are and you don’t have time to entertain someone who plays no lead role in your life. Acquaintances who have said things about you behind your back, oh well, it doesn’t matter what so and so thinks. All that matters is what I think! And so on and so forth. Trust, I could go on all day…but I won’t. For myself, I think with my mother getting diagnosed with cancer and passing away six months later at the young age of fifty-nine, I hit that marker earlier than the norm. If I’m judging my lifespan based off of my mothers, at that point, I’d already lived half of my life.

Wow! Talk about eye opener. So the little ish in life, became minute! Microscopic. I couldn’t see it, nor could I hear it. During this time, I started getting back into church and attended services regularly. One Sunday, I can’t remember what the sermon was on, but my Pastor read Proverbs 31:30 KJV. I can’t really put into words what I felt in that moment, but it was like I’d been stuck in the dark for months and suddenly someone flipped on their high-beam headlights.

This scripture not only, put into words everything I’d been feeling, but it also gave my feelings validation. It answered questions, I didn’t even realized I’d been asking myself. Proverbs 31:30, told me I was right in not caring what others thought of me - Favour is deceitful. If you’re seeking validation from others, you will one day find that most of those who smile in your face are actually praying for your demise. It was okay to leave the house without being dressed to the nines, hair on point, face on fleek and heels on deck! What?! Why? How can this be so?

Because beauty is vain. But hold on, how do I expect for a man to find me (I am of the mindset that he who findeth a good thing) and marry me? I don’t want to walk through life alone… If I don’t care what people think of me or pour umpteen hours into primping and pampering myself, how in the world do I expect to be blessed with my husband? Because He said, but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.

With Proverbs 31:30, being such a powerful and moving scripture, I can’t begin to think of how many different meanings and interpretations everyone has for it. Above is only a smidgeon of how this particular scripture speaks to me. It was there for me during a very rough and trying time. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised, became my personal mantra for the remainder of 2011 and through 2012.

Kortni ReneaYou can find my latest release @
http://books2read.com/ATL

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Welcome back friends to another 20 Days of Love. Unoma Nwankwor os sharing a delightful story with is roday. Don't miss it...

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It's another 20 Days of Love and romance is in the air for Dana Mitchell and Fletcher Morrison. Today, 20 Days of Love is serving up a heaping dish full of sweet romance, W Parks Brigham/Texas style. Come on in and read a little...

Dana pulled into the hotel for valet parking and was ready to make the best of the evening.  Like she’d said, after tonight it would be all over. 
 
Wow, thought Fletcher as he watched her enter the lobby.  She was absolutely stunning with her long, flowing hair hanging past her shoulders down her back.  Her dark-streaked, auburn hair color stood out against her dark, honey-colored complexion and her jeweled, black bolero sweater.  He loved the sway of her hips in the deep vibrant red dress which flowed seductively around her ample curves.  Pretty-shaped calves and thick ankles were visible in multi-strapped heels.  He should have been ashamed of himself, wishing the wind to blow so he could see more, but it didn’t.
           
            Dang, thought Dana, he was waiting for her just like he said as she stepped inside. He met her with his dazzling smile, sporting two adorable dimples. That was something she never noticed before. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his tall, lean body.  And he did look good in his black slacks, which had to be tailor-made, which fit his bowed legs perfectly, along with the red, collarless sweater that hugged his tone muscles.
           
            “Hi Dana, you made it.  You look pretty, as always,” he stated, taking her hand in his.
           
            “Thank you, Fletcher, and you also look nice,” she replied, staring up into his smiling face.  Dark molasses, Gramps’s favorite syrup, was what his skin color reminded her of.  His hair was neatly trimmed, including the light fuzz circling his mouth and chin.  He gave her a bigger smile with his thanks…
           
            For once Dana was not sure of herself and didn’t trust how she was feeling at the moment.  His closeness and male scent was overwhelming in a pleasing kind of way.  His smooth, savvy voice was absorbing on the phone, and now it was more spellbinding with a face to add to it.  Every nerve in her body was longing with desire and she was becoming too comfortable and relaxed.  Is this what it means to be in a vulnerable state? She wondered…    
 
            He leaned down and pulled up a medium-sized gold gift bag with red hearts. “This is for you.” 
           
            Caught completely by surprise, she said, “Thank you, Fletcher, but I wasn’t expecting anything, especially with this being so last minute.  I didn’t get you anything.”
           
            “You didn’t have to. You being my date is a gift within itself; besides, Valentine’s Day is for the ladies.  And a man gets a kick out of seeing his lady happy, right fellows?” 
 
The men agreed as she processed his last remark, seeing his lady happy.  Did he think because she accepted the committee’s decision and he’d bought her some inexpensive trinket that she was his lady? Really, I don’t think so.  She began to remove the tissue paper to see what he’d actually bought. The expression on her face and the perfect O shape her dark red lips formed, said she was caught by a sudden surprise, again.
           
            Gazing into his dreamy, dark eyes which held her gaze, she said, “Fletcher, I don’t know what to say, this is so unexpected.”  She leaned over and kissed his lips, leaving her ruby red lipstick behind.  Reaching up to wipe it off, he caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. Tingling sparks traveled all the way down her spine to her candy dish, which caused her to cross her legs as if everyone knew the impact his kiss had.
 
“Dana, he truly wanted you to have a nice Valentine’s Day.”  She silently agreed as her eyes followed his lean physique in the line.  Not only was he cute, he smelled and looked good in his clothes; he was thoughtful and considerate.  He actually took time to read her profile to learn what she liked and she was sure he paid attention to her dislikes, as well.  What was she going to do about Fletcher Morrison? He was not the one!
 
            “Dana, would you like to dance?” They were playing good stepping music.
           
            “Sure, let’s see what cha got, Bro. Fletcher.”
           
            “Is that a challenge, Sis. Dana?” 
 
She smiled and dropped her little red purse in her gift bag. Fletcher took her hand and they stepped in perfect harmony, matching each other’s steps onto the dance floor.  He threw in a little cha-cha-cha with her keeping up with his every move.  “Very good, Sis. Dana.” 
           
            “Thank you, Bro. Fletcher.” She rewarded him with her refreshing smile, and they got in step with the group. After the second line dance, the pace was picked up with an upbeat song that had the dancers shedding sweaters, jackets, and heels. She was glad she chose the right shoes for dancing.
 
            Fletcher was still holding Dana’s hand as they waited in the lobby with some of the other couples who had valet service. Everyone was talking about the wonderful time they’d had agreeing that the committee needed to be commended for their excellent planning.  He didn’t know about the others, but he hated that the evening had come to an end and secretly prayed this wouldn’t be the first and final date for them.  She was truly amazing and a joy to be with.  Not one time did she show that shallow side she’d been accused of possessing.  Now he needed to man up and ask her out to dinner or a movie for tomorrow night. Then, too, maybe he should keep it at a slow pace and just wait for them to be together again at the Sunday social.  Sadly, he saw the attendant pull her car up.
           
            “My car is here,” announced Dana as she glanced up at him.  She didn’t want to say so, but she was not ready to leave him.  Needless to say, she was raised as a prim and proper lady, and that was not the behavior she was to exhibit.  But she did remember what her two advisors had said.  So she did the next best thing, “Fletcher, I had a wonderful time tonight, and thank you, again, for my lovely gifts.  That was so sweet of you.  Maybe we can do this again sometime, you have my number.”
           
            He wanted to catch his flip-flopping heart before it jumped right out of his body.  She’d given him the okay to ask her out.  “Dana, it was my pleasure, and I’m happy you like your gifts.  I also had a fabulous time tonight and if you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, maybe we can have dinner and take in a movie.”  He held his breath, awaiting her answer.
           
            “That sounds nice, Fletcher. I do have a few routine things to take care of, so after six will be good for me.”
 
Grinning like he’d just won the lottery, he told her after six would be great, but that he’d still give her a call. They embraced and exchanged kisses on the cheek.  He paid the attendant with a little something extra and opened her door. They said good night with him wishing for a real good night kiss from her, mentally promising himself it would happen the next time…
           
            Fletcher picked up his cell three times to call Dana. If nothing else, he could use the excuse that he was just making sure she arrived home safely. Then he thought that sounded dumb in Allanville, Texas.  He then thought of a better idea which would be best due to the time. He could send a text, instead. 
Just as Dana was about to put her cell away after ordering a special gift for him, she received a text. A smile surfaced as she read it: Makin sure u arriv saf / fletch… Good, she was on his mind as well, she thought.
 
She replied: safely in bed, thanks for being so thoughtful and sweet, again / good night. 
 
Fluffing their pillows, they both drifted off to sleep thinking of each other and their first and next date, which would truly be a surprise for him. ♥

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Sarita
NOVEMBER 19, 1988
 
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” I say from behind the wheel of my Sunbird as I make the sign of the cross.

It’s seven in the morning. I’m sitting in my car outside Ray’s mom’s house, a well-kept, red-brick fourplex on the corner of Santa Clara and Stoepel. Down from Tradewinds, the liquor store where Ray said his mom buys her alcohol and cigarettes. Ray loves that I don’t drink or smoke the way Miss King does. Ray loves me. And he’s everything to me. I hope nothing’s happened to him. Please, don’t let him have been carjacked. Then, it’ll be my fault because he didn’t even ask for that car. His Renault Alliance was old and always in the shop, and I wanted him to have something reliable. Because I love him and I can afford the car note.

I work at GM. So.
I have an MBA. Doesn’t matter.
I’m a CPA. Irrelevant.
I’m a wife. Ray Saint’s wife. And he’s missing.
My husband is missing on our first wedding anniversary.

“Lord, please lead me to him.” I wipe my tears away, and I take a few deep breaths. I thought about going to the morgue, but I can’t lose faith that Ray is still alive. So, instead, I came to Miss King’s house. The only relative of Ray’s that I know. I knew Paw Paw, Ray’s grandfather, but he passed away in August, and Ray changed not long after. He got real distant toward me. Death will do that sometimes. Wedge a gap so wide that those on the other side have no choice but to fall through. I refuse to. I hope Ray didn’t hurt himself. I keep thinking about what Graham said about mental illness being hereditary. I’m not sure if Ray is mentally ill, but I do know he gets depressed from time to time. I shake the thought from my mind as quickly as it enters. Ray’s fine. He’ll be home soon.

I take a deep breath and stare at the stop sign up ahead. Maybe I should stop. Don’t get out of my car. Don’t go up to that woman’s house. Leave, because something is going on with her, but I haven’t figured out what yet. The only thing Ray told me was that he doesn’t want us associating with her, but he didn’t say why. The one time I met her, shortly after Ray and I got engaged, she was very dry toward me. I also find it odd that Ray has to call her Miss King instead of Mom. Still, I have to let her know that Ray’s missing because she’s his mother, so I attempt to open my car door, but the strong winds blow it shut. I try again, and the same thing happens. I’m pretty sure it’s a sign. I look toward the multifamily home. There’s a wall unit sticking out of the second-floor window. Ray’s mom lives on the first floor, on the Santa Clara side that I’m parked on. On the Stoepel side, there’s a handicap ramp that leads up to another door with two more doorbells. This is where my husband was raised. There isn’t a wall unit on the first floor. Is that why Ray keeps our apartment so cold, even in the winter? Is he trying to make up for those years without air conditioning? I scoot across to the passenger seat and get out, and this time the wind doesn’t interfere. As I trudge against the gusts up to Miss King’s front door, I’m praying for a peaceful interaction with her. My armpits are sticky, even though the temperature is in the low thirties.

There are two doorbells, and I’m not sure which to ring. Logically, the one on top should be for the upper, so I ring the bottom one, and then I wait. She’s probably asleep, but this is important, so I ring the doorbell two more times, and not long after hear a woman shout, “If you not from Publishing Clearing House, don’t be ringin’ my damn doorbell this early.”

Miss King yanks the door open. She’s wearing a sheer, floral nightgown with a plunging neckline that exposes her large breasts. Her waist is small, and her hips are in proportion. I’m sure bodies like hers served as inspiration for the Commodores’ “Brick House.”

“Miss King, I’m so sorry to bother you—”

“And who are you?”

“Sarita Saint, your son’s wife,” I say matter-of-factly.

Miss King rests the side of her arm against the door, crosses her bare feet, and wiggles her toes, which are sparkling with pink glitter. She gives me the once-over, and then says, “You don’t look like her. Even though I only saw the thing once.” She puts her cigarette to her mouth, takes a long drag, and blows the smoke off to the side, into the hallway. “Did you put on some weight? ’Bout two pounds? And lettin’ your hair grow out?” She shakes her head and chuckles. “None of that’s gonna keep my son because he just like his daddy. They eyes roam so much I’m surprised they not crossed. What’s so important that you gotta be ringin’ my bell at seven in the damn mornin’? And where is Ray? Because if he told you he was over here, he a damn lie.”

“He’s missing, Miss King.” My voice is trembling from cold, fear of what may have happened to him, and my anger at being called a “thing” by my mother-in-law. “Have you seen or heard from him?”

Her expression is empty. She shakes her head and then grins and takes another long drag of her cigarette. “He done left your ass, girl. That’s all it is. If that boy ain’t just like his daddy, I swear.” She bursts out in laughter.

I shake my head. “No, he didn’t leave me. Something’s happened…

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Today's 20 Days of Love showcases the stirrings of a love so sweet because it has its foundations in Christ. It's the beginning of a relationship that holds out promise. LaToya Martin shares her novel, Pain's Purpose. Read on...

With life growing inside of her, Talia Williams finally understood that love could no longer hold her abusive marriage together. To prevent losing another baby, she seeks refuge with her parents, but with Khalil hot on her trail, she is forced to move in with her sorority sister, Alanna Davis. Living under one roof gives the women an opportunity to reconcile past differences and together deal with love, pain, and life’s transitions. 

Realizing that the search for his wife is in vain, Khalil retreats. He comes to accept the consequences of his actions and attempts to reconstruct his life, but an unexpected visitor from his past may destroy all that he has worked to rebuild. 

Eventually, futile efforts to handle life on her own push Talia into the arms of Christ and give her the hope that she needs to believe that her marriage can be healed. Just when all seems well, she is blindsided by tragedy, causing her faith and relationships to be stretched to the limit.
Pain’s Purpose is the first in a series that tells the story of reconciliation, forgiveness, and discovery of unconditional love.

As they strolled the beach for a while, enjoying each other’s company and the sunset’s array of colors painting the sky, he tenderly brushed his fingers against hers, bidding her to take his hand. Fear
gripped her momentarily, causing her to halt what seemed so natural.

But God immediately brought a scripture to her remembrance: There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear. And though she wasn’t in love with him yet, she knew she could easily discern her relenting heart, finally allowing the walls she had built up over time to come crashing down. She was already smitten by his every move and the smoothness of his baritone voice. From their phone conversations, she could easily see that he was a man after God’s own heart, attracting her all the more.

Bryan sensed her hesitation but was glad she let go of her inhibitions when he felt the softness of her hand, accepting his invitation. Alanna swore he could hear the cadence of her heart pounding by the waggish grin he gave when their hands intertwined, but she no longer cared. If there was any possibility of a relationship, transparency had to be the driving force.

Walking along the beach’s shore proved to be better than Alanna expected. It didn’t matter that her stilettos now hung from her manicured fingers instead of cradling her feet. Or that her hair, now
slightly tousled, had become subject to the breeze flowing off the ocean’s cool waters. All that mattered was the inward warmth she felt radiating over her entire body as their hands remained locked. Every time he smiled at her sent chills down her spine. And she concluded that chivalry was far from dead when Bryan, seeing the goose bumps surfacing down her bare arms from the slight chill in the air, eagerly slipped out of his sports coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, providing her with the heat she needed. His gentlemanly gesture only caused more goose bumps to emerge, and she wished it was his arms wrapped around her instead of his coat. Seriously, this is too good to be true.

The first-time novelist LaToya C. Martin has loved writing since childhood. LaToya hails from San Antonio but has resided in the Houston for almost a decade, where she raises a precocious daughter and teaches students with hearing loss, all the while remaining an active member of her church and community.

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/LaToya-Martin-Author-1926289957599566/ 
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16542019.Latoya_C_Martin

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Happy Valentine's Day and don't we have a treat in store for you! Paulette is bringing a challenge to 20 Days of Love. When a man loves a woman, he can be all the way in. When a man loves a woman, he won't accept her excuses or play her games. When a man loves a woman, he's willing to do what it takes to make her his own. Paulette is sharing Tame Breeze and she's doing a giveaway to some lucky reader today as a Valentine's treat. Simply leave her a comment below and you might be the lucky winner. Read on...

“So, you want to explain why you're dipping out on me yet again like you got a man or something. Or is there something you want to tell me.” Q picked up and took a quick glance at his phone clearly looking at what time it was and how long they’d been together.

“You seriously have to stop saying stuff like that to me.”

“Am I not speaking truth to you? You are jumping back into those tight ass jeans of yours as we speak in attempts to make your exit am I wrong.” Of, course his comment made Bre stop her actual jumping process of squeezing into her jeans. He had a way of knowing exactly what to say to make her stop in her tracks.

“I have an entire business to run I don’t have time for any of those types of games.”

“That’s your favorite phrase it seems...those types of games like you’re trying to say that’s something happening without actually saying the words.” Normally at this point in the conversation, Quincey would be out of bed himself with at least his boxers and jeans on but today he stayed put half shielded by his navy duvet that went along with the silver and white accents of his room and leaning back against his headboard. He had something more in mind for this conversation than just letting Bree off the hook with a few cute remarks.

“Seriously Q what is up with you? Every time I come over here lately we end up on this very same page.”

“Do we now?”

“Ugh…. like I said I have to go remember source of income waiting for me to open its doors so I guess we will talk another time.”

“Right and that will be when exactly?” Intrigue into Bree’s discomfort of the topic must have kicked in because he sat forward on the bed.

“Quincey seriously what is it if you have something to say then say it we are not kids, so.”

Sure, he was right Bree never let anyone get close especially men no matter how much time they’d spent together. The current game with Quincey had been going on for nine months now and it was clear he had reached the point of wanting more than just the random meetups at his or her place they’d fallen into. Outside of the physical which was beyond what either of them expected each time nothing else progressed between them. Even though they’d known of each other well over five years they hadn’t approached one another in a romantic way until about a year ago when Bree found herself on another one of her self-doubt kicks in the middle of central park.

Running into Q was pure accident she’d gone down to get a pretzel and enjoy the day since that was one of the things she and Angel always did during the summer, but her best friend was on the other side of the country and now happily married which was still bothering her on a level she hadn’t fully tapped into. She was seeking out her favorite lunch when Q bumped into her on his way to a pickup game. If life wasn’t full of any and every form of crap designed to make it as hard as possible Bree more than likely would have been happy to have that kind of attention. Quincey the six foot three physically fit, dark caramel adolescent psychiatrist with his full beard and unruly spiky afro was the exact man every woman dreamed of. Educated full of promise and not sitting back looking for life to hand him anything just his confidence in himself attracted her like lightning bugs on a late summer afternoon. But at the current moment, he was looking more and more pissed and not able to contain it.

“I just have a lot on my plate Q I thought you understood that you have just as much going on with trying to get the center back up and running.” Since no matter how much pulling and tugging she did would change the fact that she couldn’t get the jeans any higher she gave up and sat on the edge of the bed near him. He’s a good man Bree. Reminding herself of that was a consistent process.

“I completely understand; however, I also am not a fan of these roll around for a few hours sharing body fluids then act as if we don’t know each of till one of us is horny again.”
“So are you say….” Q put his finger to her lips before she could finish because it was clear Bree was about to hit panic mode and back out completely.

“I’m saying let’s see a movie…. have a drink…. shit if all that is too much take a walk with me in the park but let’s stop the teenage shit.”

“Teenagers roll around sharing body fluids for hours?” The smirk on her face couldn’t be helped and at least she got him to smile his million-megawatt smile at her.

“Woman stop picking the little shit and just let me show you better.” Q moved the finger from her lips and slid it under her chin lifting her lips to his. “Just think about it ok. I’m not going to hold you up I know how important your work is to you. But think about it, Bree. Deal?”

The ability to just agree and let things happen wasn’t one that Bree possessed, people were great at letting you down once they knew they had you in their corner that was the lesson life had already branded on her. But Q hadn’t done that he was patient and somehow found a large amount of understanding to keep them going. The man knew exactly how to handle every single part of her being and then flip it over and do even more. So, Q deserved the chance. Baby steps Bree you can do baby steps.

“Deal.” She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips and jumped from the bed.

“Bree don’t play games if we doing this we are both all in completely.”

“I agreed Q, I don’t go back on my word so don’t hound me.”

“So, we having dinner tonight then?” The cute as hell boyish grin on his face was just enough to make her insides tighten.

“I will not be out of the shop till late so you have to bring it to me. I prefer samosa and tamarind sauce with jasmine rice.”

“Is this some language you have decided to pick on me with?”

“If I wanted to pick on you…. main aapako sabhee ko pareshaan kar doonga aur aapako bina kisee die bina chhod dega. -I would get you all bothered and leave you here without giving you any. -”

“WHAT?!?!”

“Samosa and tamarind sauce with jasmine rice, and maybe some tandoori chicken, place on 7th next to the store has the best….be at the shop by like eight I have some boxes you can help me with.” Because she had slid over and had her hands headed up the covers toward his semi-erect manhood she quickly pulled them away and grabbed her shirt and jacket then headed for the door.

“So, I’ve gone from servicing you to manual labor now.”

“Hey, I believe I just provided plenty service sir and I will be there the entire time.”

“Yea yea…. I hope not in those tight as jeans you can’t even get into.”

“They are not that tight Q.”

  “Bullshit squat.” Of course, that was not an option bending over was out of the question for the most part so an actual squat was not happening. It made Bree roll her eyes. He knows I can't-do a damn squat.

“Stop worrying about my jeans and get dressed don’t you have work to do?”

Thanks for joining us for another 20 Days of Love! Please leave a comment below for your chance to win in the giveaway. I would love to hear from you!
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Today's 20 days of love takes a deep look at what love is and isn't from a male's perspective. He gets to the heart of the matter in Victoria Kennedy's, Sometimes Love! Check it out...

“I don’t want you to pull me back into your illusion of love and as soon as it starts looking a little different from your imagination, you walk away. The reality is that sometimes love will make you cry, it will make you feel ten feet tall, invincible even. It will make you wonder if you ever really knew it at all. Most of the time, love will make you crazy. Anyone in his right mind would never choose love. It chooses us.”

     My king had abdicated his throne for a soapbox and I became frustrated while listening to, what I realized were, words of fear. He was afraid to take another chance and I didn’t like to see him fear anything. But I was not going to be the fall guy. He’d been complicit in a fishing expedition that delivered me right into his hands.

     “In the beginning,” I said. “We were both learning our way and you have to admit it all started with a big lie …and a strong physical attraction. You went looking for the person who hurt Madonna and you found me. And I needed to be found. We didn’t have a manual to tell us what to do. Somewhere along the way, we fell out of infatuation and into love…out of make-believe and into reality. It helped us grow, Humphrey. This is real.”

Victoria Kennedy is the author of the collection, Where Loves Goes, which includes the short story, The Uninvited Guest, adapted into an eponymous stage production. She is also a contributing author in The Dating Game anthology. Victoria holds an MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts and resides in Baltimore, Maryland. She is currently working on her second novel.

You can connect with Victoria @ victoriaadamskennedy.com.

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It's another Motivational Monday Moment and author Nia Forrester is joining us to share her favorite Scripture. She encourages us with Ruth 1:16-17 to love others unconditionally. You don't want to miss this, it will bless your soul...

Ruth 1:16-17 New King James Version (NKJV)
 
16 But Ruth said:
 
“Entreat me not to leave you,
Or to turn back from following after you;
For wherever you go, I will go;
And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;
Your people shall be my people,
And your God, my God.
 
17
Where you die, I will die,
And there will I be buried.
The Lord do so to me, and more also,
If anything but death parts you and me.”
 
I think that may be my favorite Bible verse of all time. It’s certainly in the top three. Not just because it is as beautiful as poetry, but because of the expression of love that I aspire to give, and to receive.
 
I went to a very strict, Catholic girls’ school when I was a kid. We prayed in the morning before lessons began; we had Religion class each day, and we prayed before and after lunch, and again before going home. And on Friday, we had an extra hour of prayer when we attended Mass.
 
But in spite of that, I never really connected very much with Scripture. The language was classical language, and required interpretation and analysis by the priests and the nuns. We were taught that they, and the Pope were the conduit to God, and so He was far removed from the average person.
 
And then, I heard these verses. Naomi, concerned for the future of her daughters-in-law, after they have lost their husbands (and Naomi her own husband, as well as her sons) to famine, tells Ruth and her other daughter-in-law Orpah to return to their people where they will find new husbands. Orpah leaves, but Ruth refuses, speaking the words in Ruth 1:16-17.
 
Of all the Bible verses I had ever heard, that one stayed with me. It spoke of a love and devotion that was unwavering, even in the face of coming hardship. It spoke of selflessness, companionship, duty, and courage. It was the first time I saw, in the remote Bible verses I was taught, the humanity of the people I was learning about. The emotions expressed, the stories told, and the journeys of many in the Old Testament were illustrative of many human failings—greed, envy, anger, vengeance. This one was different. It expressed the possibility of human beings being their best selves. Ruth’s love for Naomi is obviously not romantic, but it also made it clear that love, in it’s purest form is not classified in one manner or another. It’s just love. Reading those verses made me want to love and be loved as selflessly and unwaveringly as Ruth loved her mother-in-law, no matter to whom I gave that love, or who gave love to me. It set a standard that even today, I return to, time and time again.
 
Nia

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It's day 9 of 20 Days of Love and Barbara Joe is sharing a snippet from her novelette. We're going to learn what happens when a woman makes life changes, causing her to lose out on something special...

“How does this look?” I asked the perky sales lady. I was standing in the dressing room at Macy’s, modeling a low-cut, slinky, red dress. I had plans to attend a New Year’s Eve party later in the evening. That number would be perfect to help me bring in the new year in my new body.

“It looks great on you,” she replied. “Red is really your color, and you’re the perfect size for it. That’s the only ten that we have left.”

“Okay, I’ll take it,” I replied, smiling at my brown skin in the mirror.

I handed her my platinum Visa card and returned to the dressing room to change back into my jeans and a long gray sweater.

As I approached the checkout counter, she glanced down at my card, then looked up at me. “Okay, Mrs. Annette Green, are you ready to check out?”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure am.”

After she rang me up and placed plastic over the $200 dress, she handed it back to me, and said, “Have fun at the party. Your husband is going to love you in this.”

I returned her full smile with a half-smile. All I could muster was a soft, “Thank you.” I looked down at the wedding band on my finger and thought about it for a second. If only she’d known what I was going through, that comment would have never crossed her lips.

John, my estranged husband, moved out about two weeks ago. Said he couldn’t stand to live with me anymore after being married for six years. Apparently, he wasn’t pleased with my recent weight loss or my new outlook on life. And he had the nerve to say, “I’m not attracted to skinny ass women; especially ones with bad attitudes.”

So, I told him, “You can take your big, overweight ass and get out of my house, because I’m not attracted to you anymore, either.” He looked hurt, but I didn’t give a damn, because he’d hurt my feelings, too. I’d damn near starved myself to death all year long and almost went into cardiac arrest on more than one occasion while working out, and he had the nerve to call me names. Oh, no, I wasn’t having it.

We didn’t argue about it anymore after that night. However, a couple of days later when I returned home from work, he was gone. I mean every trace of him was moved out. He even took the dog that I didn’t care about, but it belonged to us. He didn’t leave a note or anything saying that he’d stop by later to check on me, or how we were going to manage paying the bills around the house. It was like he’d never even lived in the building.

I knew I was going to miss my fluffy man during the cold winter season, but he wasn’t worth gaining back all those pounds I’d worked so hard to lose. I was sure he’d eventually come around and appreciate my skinniness.

I’d been overweight all my life. I was always the chubby girl being teased, and the last one picked in P.E. when we had to pick teams. Everyone was mean to me, until I got smart in the fifth grade. That’s when I started spending my allowance on candy and bringing it to school to share with them. I had to bribe my fake friends with candy, but at least it got me some attention.

I made a New Year’s resolution to lose sixty pounds, and as of today, I’d lost a total of sixty-one pounds, thank you very much! It’s just sad to say that I’d also lost the love of my husband. He was the love of my life. The one whom I thought would love me forever and ever. The one who didn’t care about my weight and loved me in spite of my flaws.

Barbara Joe Williams is a bestselling author, publisher, speaker, editor, proofreader, and publishing consultant living in Tallahassee, Florida. She is a Navy veteran, a graduate of Tallahassee Community College, and Florida A & M University. She is the owner of Amani Publishing, LLC, and the co-founder of the Tallahassee Authors Network (TAN). Her Facebook group is titled: Barbara Joe Reads & Writes!
 
She has published over fifty authors and the following titles for herself:  A Night to Remember (novelette), Holiday Hotel 3, Love Never Felt So Good, A-Z Basic Editing Tips, A-Z Writing Tips, Holiday Hotel 2, A-Z Marketing Tips, A Cup of Barbara Joe, Holiday Hotel 1,, Forgive Us This Day (Anniversary Edition) featured in USA Today, First Class Love, You Don't Even Know My Name (novella), A Writer's Guide to Publishing & Marketing (Volume 2), Double Proposal, Losing My Soul, A Man of My Own, The 21 Lives of Lisette Donavan (Anthology),  Moving the Furniture: 52 Ways to Keep Your Marriage Fresh, How I Met My Sweetheart (Anthology),  Courtney's Collage, Falling for Lies, Dancing with Temptation, and Forgive Us This Day.

Barbara has also published a four-book, Young Adult series titled, Bell Bottom High, under the pen name of B.J. Williams.
 
Forgive Us This Day (Anniversary Edition) is a rewritten version of the original title released in November 2004. She added more background on the main character and more drama for your reading pleasure in 2014.
 
Barbara was also featured in the January/February 2016 edition of Tallahassee Magazine as one of the Top 5 graduates of Tallahassee Community College.
 
All of her books are available on Amazon, BN, Kindle, and Nook.

A Night to Remember: http://amzn.to/2qL3IUM
Amazon page: http://goo.gl/hCOkBb
Email:  amanipublishing@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/barbara.williams.31105674
Instagram: Barbara.joe.williams
Twitter:  @Barbarajoe22
Website:  www.Barbarajoe.webs.com

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It's day 8 of 20 Days of Love and today's featured author is none other than national bestselling author, Lisa Watson. Today's feature, Interview With Danger, is heated and danger is lurking around the corner. Could it be that heroine, Sasha Lambert has created a situation too big for her to handle? Read on...

When Sasha Lambert’s debut novel, The Passport Diaries, hits the bookstores it quickly becomes a bestseller. Her ex-boyfriend, and Greek tycoon, Milo Georgopoulos, believes one of the characters in the book sheds a not-so-positive light on his own extracurricular activities.  He gives Sasha an ultimatum: Ditch the book or else.
     
Retired football player, Pierce Deveraux thinks he too has been placed between the pages of The Passport Diaries.  Determined to make Sasha pay for putting a ding in his knight-in-shining-armor image, Pierce contemplates how best to even the score.

Suddenly strange things start happening wherever Sasha goes. Even her twin sister, Dr. Sienna Lambert-Deveraux worries for her safety.  With an adoring assistant, an ambitious publicist, and jealous ex-lover vying for her attention, Sasha soon finds herself at the center of dangerous tug-of-war.  
 
Available in EBook and Tradeback:
Amazon:http://ow.ly/G0Kc30i8GJU

Sasha shut the door. By the time she turned around, he was standing right behind her. His face was a mask of impatience, and his hands were fisted at his sides. 

Sasha moved backward until her back connected with the front door.

“Pierce, what’s going on?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” he growled. “Have you lost your mind, Sasha? Do you know what you’ve done?”

She stared at him blankly. “I don’t understand. Will you stop beating around the bush and tell me the problem?”

“You are the problem,” he threw back. “You and your stupid book have ruined my life, Sasha…and you’d better believe you’re going to fix it.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Jacob Toliver.”

Sasha waited, but Pierce didn’t say anything else. Instead, he moved closer until he was crowding her. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. Finally, she threw her hands up. “What, are we playing twenty questions?”

“Jacob Toliver,” he repeated.

Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know who he is. I wrote the book, remember? I’m just wondering what my character has to do with this.”

“He’s me.”

Sasha’s eyebrows rose. “You…you think Jacob…is you?” She started to laugh, then pushed past him to go into the lounge. “He isn’t you, Pierce.”

He was right on her heels.

“Well, there are some people that disagree with you. In fact, the executives at the sporting goods store that just dropped me as an endorser would beg to differ…and the men’s apparel ad I was going to do and—”

“I don’t understand.”

“Apparently, a few of them read your book and thought your midnight Casanova was me. You just cost me three quarters of a million dollars,” Pierce said between clenched teeth.

Her smile faded. “What?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently, they didn’t want a womanizing, strung-out playboy representing their brands. Considering these are family businesses, I can understand why,” he snapped.

She eyed him from head to toe. “Well, are you?”

His expression turned indignant. “Certainly not.”

“Then there you go.” Sasha threw up her hands in frustration. “Pierce, this is absurd. You could throw a stick and hit thousands of men that fit that same description.” 

“You know, your sister tried to say that, too. Obviously, the list is a lot smaller than either of you think,” he said dryly.

“Your claim is ridiculous. Why would anyone think it’s you?” The corners of her mouth elevated slightly.

He glowered at her. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” she answered, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry. It’s just that your accusations are outrageous.”

“Outrageous? My image has been damaged, and it’s your fault, Sasha. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get back to where I was and just like that—”

“Wait, what do you mean back?”

“In less than three hundred pages,” he continued, ignoring her question, “of some smutty book it’s gone.”

Anger propelled her forward until she was in his face, her finger pointing at his chest. “Now wait a minute. Have you read it?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Then you shouldn’t comment on things you know nothing about,” she shot back. “My book is not smutty. It has real merit, and it’s now a USA Today bestseller.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s worth six figures, sweetheart, because I’ve got a mind to sue you for slander.”

National bestselling author, Lisa Watson, is a native of Washington D.C., and writes in the Multicultural & Interracial, Contemporary, Romantic Suspense, and Sweet Romance genres.  Having her debut novel nominated for Best Contemporary Fiction, sparked Lisa’s desire to continue creating engaging storylines, strong characters with universal appeal, and a keen sense of humor. They are drawn together by love, respect, and a strong family ties.

Lisa loves traveling, so weaving beautiful destinations into the pages of her novels as lush backdrops, or the heritage of her characters is not uncommon.

Her novels for the Harlequin's Kimani line, The Match Broker series: Love Contract, Her Heart's Desire, and Love By Design, introduced readers to matchmaking guru, Norma Jean Anderson, aka The Love Broker. Her Heart’s Desire, was listed as one of 2014’s Top 25 Books of the Summer, and Top 50 Best Reads. Book three, Love by Design was also one of the top contemporary romance Must-Read lists. Two hit the #1 and one the #3 spots on Amazon's Bestseller List.

Lisa’s novella, A Summer of Stars, is featured in the summer compilation, Summer Hearts: 6 Summer Tales of Sweet Romance. Her holiday-themed Sweet Romances, A Heart for Christmas, Two Hearts for Christmas, and A Fiancé for Christmas, are warm your heart love stories that center on family, and are great reads no matter what time of the year.

Lisa works at a technology consulting firm, is the co-publicist for RT BookReview Magazine's annual RT Booklovers Conventions, and former host for Reader’s Entertainment Radio show, and In Faith Network Radio show.

Married for twenty-one years, with two teenagers, and a Maltipoo, Brinkley, Lisa lives in Raleigh, NC, and is avidly working on a new Romantic Suspense for her Love and Danger series.

Connect with Lisa on Facebook (NCLisaWatson), Twitter(@LisaYWatson), Goodreads, Pinterest, Instagram, and www.lisawatson.com

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A heart so desperate for attention, yearning to be loved can be dangerous. When a woman finds herself in a precarious situation, she just may step beyond the vows. It's another 20 Days of Love and a writer Wednesday, and I'm today's featured author for . Read on...

The waiter came by to check on us and refresh our drinks. We thanked him.

“How long have you been married?”

“Five years.”

“So, what are you doing on those nights he’s gone away from home? Do you go out with your female friends?” Nick was sitting back in his chair running his fingers down his beard.

“No, they’re usually busy with their own lives. I’ve no one to hang with or talk to. I watch TV or go to sleep early when I’m not working on my business. My consulting hours are usually between four and seven. Afterwards, I just work on different ideas and marketing my business online. But there are many nights when it’s just me and my pillow,” I confided. I had no clue why I was telling him all of this. I knew I shouldn’t, but a part of me couldn’t help it.

His smoldering eyes were narrowed and heavy. I could only imagine the thoughts going through his head. A part of me was ashamed, because although I wasn’t looking to have an affair on my husband, I was looking to be desired by a man. I wanted someone to look at me the way Nick was looking at me now. It made me feel beautiful, sexy, desired, and womanly.

“Why don’t you pick up the phone and call me?”

“I thought you said you kept long hours, too?”

“I do. But I promise I’ll make time for you whenever you need it.” He reached out and grabbed my hand across the table.

I held my head down and looked at our hands clasped together on the table. This was something more than friends, yet not quite lovers. I felt the heat emanating from the two of us. I tried to ignore the look he was now pinning me down with, and I couldn’t. After a few awkward beats, I removed my hand from his.

“I’m sorry, Ambiance. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he apologized.

“No, it’s okay. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest. And for some strange reason, I feel so comfortable talking to you. I almost feel as if I can tell you anything.”

He gave me a crooked half-smile.

“Look, baby girl, you can. You can trust me with anything, and I won’t let you down. Whatever you need, simply ask, and I’ve got your back. I think I’ve told you that before.”

“Yes, you have, and you’re so sweet for being so attentive to my needs. Whew! How did we get on me, anyway? I thought we were talking about you and your need to date.”

“We were. I wanted to talk about you. And hey,” he said, reaching out to grab my chin and lift my head up. He drew closer to me across the table, “I meant what I said. Call me on those nights. That’s what friends are for.” His mouth was saying friends, but his eyes were saying something else entirely.

I had lost my breath and my words. His eyes had me quaking on the inside.

Women's fiction author and blogger, Chelle Ramsey brings a refreshing perspective into the lives of her readers and wants them to find entertainment, healing and inspiration in each novel. Using real problems and challenges faced by ordinary people, Chelle wants readers to become empowered to rise above life's adversities, with faith in God, and belief in themselves.

Her stories are relatable to individuals of diverse demographics, who have suffered a loss, been hurt, have low self-esteem, have lost hope, or need a word of encouragement. She strives to take your emotions on a roller coaster ride, one page at a time. Chelle holds an MBA in Human Resource Management, which she puts to use in her Human Resources role by day, while she writes her fiction novels at night. And in her spare time, she’s a blogger, freelance writer, and ghostwriter.
Her most important roles are those of a wife and mother of three. During her “me time,” she becomes enraptured with the enthralling stories of Terry McMillan, Nora Roberts, James Patterson and Stuart Woods. Chelle Ramsey resides in a rural community in Atlanta, Georgia and enjoys writing, family time, and watching NBA games.

She hosts the annual 20 Days of Love authors’ blogging campaign, March Madness authors’ giveaways campaign, and showcases other authors on her blog at www.chelleramsey.com/beautifully-inspired-blog. Her novels can be found online at Chelle Ramsey Amazon.

LINKS:
WEB: www.chelleramsey.com
EMAIL: chelleramseywrites@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: ChelleWrites
TWITTER: @UndeniablyChell
PINTEREST: ChellesBooks
INSTAGRAM: UndeniablyChelle

Thanks for joining us for another 20 Days of Love! Please leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you!
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We're kicking off a new week of 20 Days of Love, and today's featured author is Piper Huguley. Her novel, Swan, showcases the town of Noelle and a bit of drama that's about to occur with the arrival of Avis Smith. Read on...

Thanks for joining us for another 20 Days of Love! Please leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you!
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Today's passage of Scripture is an encouraging one in times of turmoil and tribulation. See how our guest author grew in the midst of trials with help from Romans 8:28.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28.

The first time I heard this scripture in a sermon about the promises of God, I remember that my heart was filled with joy and peace,  and the verse was embedded in my soul. In the years since, I still react the same to Romans 8:28 because it has repeatedly been proven true in my life. One perfect example involved my retirement.  I had always planned to work until I was sixty-five, but harsh and unjust actions by my principal forced me to realize that at sixty-two, I had given my all and it was time to retire. As it turned out,  on the first day of the next school year,  my mother was rushed to the hospital ER. Had I still been working,  I would have missed the first four days of school! Sitting in the hospital,  I realized that for those who love God and seek his will, in the end, things will always work out in their best interest. 

Edwina Putney

Thanks for joining us for another Motivational Monday Moment! Please leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you! Join us tomorrow for another 20 Days of Love post.

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This Saturday we're celebrating day 3 of 20 Days of Love! We're preparing you for a month full of love, romance, and spice! We promise to warm up your hearts all month long, and today is no exception. Tesa Erven is here to share her latest novel from the Loose Ends series. You don't want to miss today's excerpt. Read on...

Renee hadn’t been on Bradsen’s luxury yacht since he’d broken the news to her about Kayron still being alive. An uneasy feeling came over her as they stood on the sun deck of the yacht. This was all so déjà vu for her.

“Bradsen, what are we doing here?”

“I brought you here so we could talk. Plus, I also have something for you,” Bradsen said, handing her an envelope.

Renee’s mind flashed back to the last time Bradsen said he had something for her on this deck. It wasn’t good news. She took a deep breath, not wanting to relive the old memories. What could it be this time? she thought. She hesitated to take the envelope from him, but Bradsen urged her on. She pulled out the contents and read them silently.

Renee raised her hand to her mouth and her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you serious? Really? You really want to do this?”

“Yes.” He pulled her hand down and held it. “I love you, Renee. I think it’s about time for us to take the next step in our relationship.”

She continued to stare at the papers in disbelief until Bradsen got down on bended knee and asked, “Renee Lawson, will you go away with me?”

“Bradsen Myers, you are too funny. Of course, I’ll go to Italy with you.”

He stood to kiss her, leaving little doubt of his serious intent. “One day I’ll be back down on my knee. But only when you’re really ready.”

“Okay, when do we leave?” Renee asked, trying hard to be still and contain her excitement. She had never been to Italy before.

“How about now? We’ll dock at the nearest port and leave from there.”

“Now?” Looking confused by his response, she began to ramble. “But what about our clothes…our families...my business…your clients…?”

“Relax, baby. Everything has been taken care of,” he said as they set sail, leaving Renee to her thoughts.

SALES LINKS / CONTACT INFO:
www.tesaerven.com
www.amazon.com/author/tesaerven

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It's our second day of 20 Days of Love, and a Fabulous Friday. What could be greater than that? We're celebrating by bringing you a tempting story of international love. Our friend, Kim Golden is sharing her novel, Maybe Tomorrow for your reading pleasure and its guaranteed to spice uo your weekend. Read on...

BLURB
No such thing as love...
Eddy and Henrik don’t believe in love. At least, that’s what they keep telling themselves. They’ve been burned in the past, and neither wants to be that vulnerable again.

A summer fling...
That’s all it was ever supposed to be. So why can’t they stop thinking about one another? And for Eddy—who’s moving back to America in a few weeks—the worst thing that could happen would be to fall in love with the one man who could make her question her decision.

Out of his comfort zone…
Henrik never counted on trusting love again. He’s put all his energy into his career. So why does the thought of Eddy leaving Europe for good make him want to do everything in his power to make her want to stay…?

PURCHASE LINKS
Kindle: http://amzn.to/2lc1zKo
Kobo: http://bit.ly/KoboMaybeTomorrow
iBooks: http://bit.ly/iBooksMaybeTomorrow
B&N: http://bit.ly/BNMaybeTomorrow

PAPERBACK
Amazon: http://bit.ly/PaperbackMaybeTomorrow
B&N: http://bit.ly/BNMaybeTomorrowPB

Kim Golden is a USA Today bestselling author of romantic fiction. Born and raised in the City of Brotherly Love, Kim left the US in 1995 and moved to Sweden for love with a capital L. When she isn't writing fiction featuring sexy Scandinavians, she writes copy for a Swedish cosmetics firm.

She writes stories for people who know that love comes in every color.

​

SOCIAL LINKS
Newsletter Signup: http://bit.ly/kimsnewsletter
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SeeKimWrite
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimgoldenbooks/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimiGM
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kimigm/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5821481.Kim_Golden

Happy Thursday and welcome to 20 Days of Love! It's our annual blog campaign where we bring you stories of love, romance, and passion all month long! We're kicking it off with one of my favorite authors, Angelia Vernon Menchan.

I'm sure you know her, but if you don't she writes hot stories of grown women coming into their own. These women know what they want and they're not ashamed to go after it. Today, she's sharing an excerpt from Donovan's Woman! Read on and share with others...Help us get the word out about 20 Days of Love.

Thanks for joining us for another 20 Days of Love! Please leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you!
To join this blog simply click "Follow This Blog," "Subscribe," or "Email" links in the upper right corner.