We have celebrated love in its various forms all month long. I want to thank each of the authors for their support of one another, and bringing their stories to you, our readers. You can check them out further by clicking on their links below. May your hearts be filled with love, and come back for Marvelous March on tomorrow.


W PARKS BRIGHAM

KIM GOLDEN

NIA FORRESTER

CELESTE GRANGER

AJA

SUZETTE HARRISON

SYDNEY AALIYAH

DELANEY DIAMOND

CHICKI BROWN

CHELLE RAMSEY

S. TAYLOR

M.J. KANE

SUZETTE RIDDICK

ANGELIA MENCHAN

ANITA ROSEBORO

TIYE

Thanks for joining us for another annual 20 Days of Love! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, we would love to hear from you! Join us tomorrow for Marvelous March, the giveaways begin!

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Tiye recalled reading romance ever since she was a young child and would sneak and read the Western love stories, her grandmother kept on her bedside table.  Although she didn’t understand half of the words she read at the time, something about those books captured her attention and as she grew older, her love of romance expanded to other genres and she became a fan of anything remotely related to reading and book such as libraries, bookstores, and the coffeeshop around the corner.  She loves to travel and has lived in several cities, including New Orleans, Washington D.C. and Houston and finds inspiration for her stories from every place she has had the fortune to visit or inhabit. When Tiye is not obsessed with her latest characters, she spends time with herself, family and friends doing whatever she can to create her best life possible.  

CONTACT:
Website: tiyelovebooks.com
IG: @tiye28always
FB: Tiye Love Books@lovetiye
Email: tiye28always@gmail.com

Peggy Jordan had long ago closed the door on her heart’s desires, accepting she would never have a
loving husband and family of her own. Then a friend asks her to care for an orphaned little girl, and
she meets the child’s last living relative. With him, her patience is tested, her desires are unleashed,
and she gets the first taste of a life she’d always felt was out of reach.

Years ago, Trevor Duncan left Savannah and vowed never to return. He traveled to remote corners
of the globe, helping people, and helping himself to countless women in emotionally-empty
relationships. A phone call in the middle of the night changes his entire life. He has a niece who
needs him, and when he meets the woman caring for her, he’s consumed with having her all to
himself.

Their desire is strong. Their love is instant. But can they learn to trust each other and survive the
road to happily-ever-after?

When I pull the pie from the oven and place it on the cooling rack, I hear Adeline’s laughter
over my music. It’s the fourth or fifth time I’ve heard that sweet sound, and I know she’s going to
be okay. Life for her here on out may not be the normal she’s used to, but it will be normal enough.

I wonder what they’re doing and find myself yearning to be a part of their fun, to be a part of their lives. I want to burst out of these walls that I’ve made my prison. I want a piece of heaven for myself. I want it with Adeline and Trevor, but the idea is foolish and I shoo it away with the flick of my hand. I’m left fighting a sadness that consumes me. I take a deep breath, brushing a tear from my lashes. I’ll push forward as always, so I get back to chopping the rest of the veggies for the pizzas.

Warm, strong hands squeeze my shoulders the same way he did earlier. Trevor starts kneading my tight muscles, working out the tension I was unaware of. I still the knife over the bell pepper and close my eyes, releasing a moan.

“That feels amazing,” I say.

He continues to work out the knots in my shoulders, occasionally sliding his thumbs up my neck like before. The way he sees to my comfort melts me and makes me want to cry. The thought enters my mind to shoo him away and demand he stop being everything I ever wanted from a guy. I want to warn him that if he continues to be this guy, I’ll fall head over heels, so for his sake, he’d better show his asshole side fast or he’ll be stuck with me along with Adeline.

I move one of his hands from my shoulder and step away from him. “Thank you, but I’m good. They’ll just tense up again, so you’re wasting your time.” I walk to the cupboard and grab a glass and fill it with water from the tap.

“I’m sorry for not helping with dinner,” he says, and my thoughts of warning him off melt away.

“You were where you needed to be.” I turn and give him a weak smile.

He leans against the island, staring at me. The look on his face is one I can’t place into words. It’s intense, searching for an answer to a question he has yet to ask. I can’t take my eyes off him. He pushes off the island and moves across my kitchen and stands in front of me. He doesn’t say a word but moves his hands to the sides of my neck, forcing me not to look away.

“I loved my brother, even when we didn’t see eye to eye, but I never thought I could feel love like this before I came here.”

“That’s Adeline.” I smile.

He rubs the back of my neck, slowly pulling me to him. I step forward, hating the distance between us. I want to burst into tears and ask him to want me, to stay with me. I rest my hands on his broad chest as the music of Stanaj floods my kitchen, giving voice to what I feel for Trevor Duncan—“Ain’t Love Strange.”

Out of nowhere, a tear falls onto my cheek.

SALES LINKS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N8JFVSH

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/im-yours-s-taylor/1130422261?ean=2940161342527

Apple: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/im-yours/id1451080717?mt=11&at=1000ldsT
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/i-m-yours-13
Universal: books2read.com/ImYours

Summer is still mending a broken heart from a relationship that ended long before its expiration date. When she runs into her ex, Devon, he tells her the most devastating news she’s heard since her mother was murdered. Then she learns that a mysterious woman, with ties to Devon, is stalking her under the guise of becoming a client. Summer now has to figure out if she’s been targeted as her mother had been.

Devon, promised to love Summer forever. Unfortunately, forever came much too soon when she made it clear that they had different goals in life and love. After their breakup and a few drinks, he finds himself engaged and soon to be a father with a woman he barely knows. The more Summer and Devon fight their feelings for each while they uncover the truth behind the mysterious situations that occurs, the more they are drawn together. Now with new developments that are not in his control, he must face Summer and risk breaking her heart again, while figuring out the secrets that his new wife is keeping.

Karen has infiltrated Summer's life, trying to right old wrongs. She will do anything to save the child she carries, even sacrifice herself to put it in the hands of a woman who will protect it from a man who wants the child—and her—for his own lurid purposes. How long can she hide in plain sight, redeem herself in Summer’s eyes, before all that is hidden comes to the light?

Devon and Summer are soon confronted with the fact that one woman holds the keys from a dangerous past and an even more devastating future.

“Hello, Summer.”   Summer was shaken. Karen Reynolds had been her best friend since middle school. They were as tight as sisters in high school and could pass for twins. They shared everything, until one day Karen took it too far and thought sharing extended to Summer’s man. She was the reason Summer hated commitment.

“Karen?” she asked, as she stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around her.

"I need to see you right away,” Karen whispered. “I know I’m the last person you want to hear from but know that I’m sorry for everything. You need to know why I disappeared.”

"But you’re dead, how are you on my phone?” Summer asked.

“I will explain everything when I see you.”

Summer had checked her calendar before leaving and was sure Karen’s name was not on the list. Only a Charity was penciled in. “Is this personal or business?”

“It’s personal and business,” Karen replied before disconnecting the call.

Summer dropped the phone onto the duvet and was still a bit rattled. She hadn’t spoken to Karen since their first year of college, when she suddenly disappeared after a phone call concerning Summer’s dad. Summer immediately called her mother to verify Karen’s story, only to find out her mom had been found dead that same day. Nothing or no one was important to her at that point. She buried her mom and her past all in the same day.

Summer walked downstairs, opened her laptop, and after a few clicks and searches, brought up the article about Karen’s car crash. Now she had to wonder who was in the car, because Karen was somehow on this side of the grave.

https://www.amazon.com/Summer-Breeze-Anita-L-Roseboro-ebook/dp/B07MT9FTNF/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1548036401&sr=1-6&keywords=Summer+breeze+in+books

There Is Something About Center City


Lasha was flanked by her dad as Malcolm and Cinnamon Black gave her the keys to Center City. At twenty her mentoring and public relations foundation, Lasha Leads was official. It had taken her a few months and graduating from undergrad but she was officially a business owner and in graduate school. She was beaming as Rashad, her boyfriend, stood across the room with her father and stepmother, Jeremy and Francine. Next to them was her mom, Linda and her lover, Mikaal. 


“Thanks everyone. I’m so overwhelmed and who even knew about me being the youngest and blackest woman business owner in Center City history." She did a little step and fist bump dance that had her supporters stomping and clapping. 


One person in the audience didn’t clap or applaud. She stood near the back, her arms folded across her chest, watching. Joi Bennett, at twenty three was born and bred in Center City, well in the county and had been the youngest black woman until Lasha Felipe usurped her, in her opinion. Cinnamon watched Joi as Lasha made her speech. She knew Joi and sensed her feelings. Joi, in her own mind, was the future. Her father Nathan was formerly a city councilman , attorney and a black man with many firsts to his credit. Her mother Liza, was a white woman who advocated education and was an administrator at the community college. They had nurtured her business acumen but hadn’t taught her how to create allies, especially with other women. 


“Joi, are you going to congratulate her?” Liza asked. Nathan stood at attention beside them. He couldn’t stop looking at Cinnamon Black. She tutored him as a freshman in high school when she was senior and more than forty-five years later he still heard her husky voice and his nose was filled with the honey scent of her hands. 


“No!” Joi snapped. Turning on her well-shod heel, she left the building fuming, to stand on the front steps. 


“Joi, there’s lots of room at the top.” Cinnamon said softly, having walked out behind her. ​

“Mrs. Black, there’s only one number one spot but thanks!” Joi said, never turning to face Cinnamon. 

Cinnamon wanted to wrap her arms around Joi but knew that wouldn’t be well received. She said a quick prayer and made her way back inside. Nathan stepped in her path. 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NDZYNN8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549499241&sr=8-1&keywords=Menchan

www.angeliavernonmenchan.com

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 complement 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 inquired 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.”

Ebony Campbell is a smart, sexy career-oriented black woman who wants nothing more than a summer fling with a man who challenges her mind and body. What she doesn’t expect is Brian Young, a blond-haired, blue-eyed bass player to step up to the challenge.

Despite negative reactions, their fling develops into a deep relationship, and Ebony discovers juggling love, family, and career are nothing compared to the ultimate betrayal she endures.
​
Now her dreams spiral into lies and secrets that threaten her future and the trust of those she loves.

“Have you ever been rollerblading?”

She laughed. “Not since high school.”

I stood up and extended my hand. “Come on, let’s give it a try.”

She hesitated. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I will probably fall flat on my ass,” she warned as she stood.

I made a show of looking at her lovely ass. “I think you’ll be okay. Besides, I’ll catch you.”
Ebony choked out a laugh.

“Come on, we’ll wear knee pads and helmets. It’ll be fun.”

Twenty minutes later, we found a skate rental shop, padded up, and were ready to go. She asked the cashier to take a picture of us on her cell phone. She called it the ‘before’ picture. For some reason, she felt we’d end up covered in grass stains and bloodied knees.

I had my fair share of sports related injuries over the years. I’d done everything from rollerblading to trick bicycle riding. My true passion was surfing.

Staring out into the distance, I wondered if she would be willing to give it a try. Maybe not, but the idea of her in a bikini sent my imagination running wild.

We reached the boardwalk and struggled to find an area where skaters and bicycle riders weren’t clogging up the space. It took a few minutes for Ebony to gain her balance. After many attempts, she laughed, a look of pure happiness on her face.

“Let me help.” I slipped a hand around her bare waist. Her skin was unbelievably soft. The scent of strawberries and whipped cream from her funnel cake mixed with her perfume made it hard to keep my focus.

“Don’t let me fall, Brian.”

“If you fall down, I’ll protect you.”

She didn’t seem reassured, but she took my hand and held on tight. “Believe me; if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

“Deal.”

Once she found her balance, I moved in front of her. Ebony kept her knees bent and skates pointed straight while I pulled her along, skating backward doing all the work until she got comfortable.

We started slow, navigating our way down the boardwalk staying out of the way of the more experienced skaters, bike riders, and skate boarders. I continued to glance over my shoulder, keeping our path clear.

The happiness on Ebony’s face was a memory I would never forget. Her eyes were full of laughter. She smiled the entire time, and never once did she loosen the grip on my hands. No matter how hard her grip, the connection was what I savored.

We traveled a good distance away from the skate shop. I mentioned it to Ebony, and she looked over her shoulder.

A dog ran by chasing a Frisbee. The dog’s sudden appearance surprised Ebony who instantly moved her feet. Our skates tangled. Everything moved in slow motion as I started to fall, allowing me to live up to my promise to protect her body.

“Oh, no, Brian, are you okay?”

I lay on my back, closed my eyes, and took a moment to evaluate the situation. I could still feel my toes and fingers. My head was okay, thanks to the helmet.

My butt on the other hand was a problem.

An unexpected weight rested on my chest. I opened my eyes to the most beautiful sight: Ebony on top of me, staring into my eyes. Strange, I hadn’t noticed the light flecks of gold in her brown irises. Her lips were inches away from mine. My first thought was to feign unconsciousness so she’d perform CPR.
“I’m sorry!” She fiddled with the straps of my helmet while I groaned. “That dog ran by…oh, man. Where does it hurt?”

She sat up, straddled me, felt the back of my head, and then ran her fingers over my chest. Since her hand came away free of blood, I assumed I wouldn’t die today. She shifted her weight and ran her hands down my legs. The pain was worth having her hands on me. The feeling ignited my body. It wouldn’t be long before the growing bulge in my pants became visible.

“Why don’t they make butt pads?” I struggled to sit up. “I’m okay.”

Ebony aided me in the movement, genuine worry in her eyes. In the end, we were sitting facing each other.

“Are you sure nothing’s broken?”

“Yeah.” I massaged my neck and rolled my shoulders. I would pay for this in the morning.

Ebony removed her helmet. Her hair was a mess, but it looked good. She reached to release the curly locks from the ponytail holder, allowing them to settle on her shoulders.

Once our eyes met, she bit her lip. Her eyebrows shot up as she stifled a laugh. I smirked, which caused her laughter to burst out and me to join in. We looked like idiots.

Ebony wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. She was beautiful. Unable to resist, I ran my fingers through the free strands of her hair. She didn’t pull away. I indulged, brushing my fingers along her cheek, and tucked the hair behind her ear.

It felt like silk. As my fingers grazed her cheek again, her laughter slowed. Her eyes focused on me with just a hint of a question. Her lips parted, sending what I hoped was a silent invitation.

I was aware of the people veering around us as they rushed by. The sound of the ocean, laughter, and dogs barking were no longer the focus of my attention though. Nothing else mattered. No longer thinking, I did what came naturally. My finger rested beneath her jaw as I leaned in to kiss her.

I pressed my lips lightly against hers, inviting her to return the kiss, silently praying for permission for more. Her body tensed beneath my fingertips, so I stopped my lips from taking what they wanted. But, it was too late; I’d crossed the line.

After a day spent talking, laughing, and getting to know each other, it all came down to this kiss. Ebony didn’t pull away, so I kissed her again.

I was about to give up hope and deal with the consequences when her lips came to life.

For a moment, I thought I imagined it. But then she did it again. The warm slide as her lips pressed harder against mine.

I didn’t hesitate. I opened my mouth wider, slipping the tip of my tongue in and tasted…strawberries. Her hand came up and slid into the hair at the nape of my neck. If it were up to me, the kiss would never end. But this was neither the time nor place to explore the softness of her lips.

Ebony moaned when I pulled away.

“We’d better get up before we get run over,” I whispered, my voice thick with longing.

She said nothing, only nodded. I stood first and pulled her back to her feet. We rolled over to the nearest bench and removed our skates.

After wanting to kiss Ebony hours earlier, I had no idea I would be able to do it. She hadn’t said a word, and I didn’t know what to expect next. So I stood, holding my skates, and extended a hand. She took it willingly, and a smile played over her lips. Curiosity and something else I couldn’t identify filled her eyes.

We strolled back to the skate shop hand in hand.

 SALES LINKS:
KINDLE
NOOK
GOOGLE PLAY
iBOOK
KOBO
SMASHWORDS
 
 
Website:
https://www.mjkanemedia.com/blog/love-secrets-and-lives-whose-heart-will-be-broke

Clarisse Jordan is a young single mother, who after the death of her fiancé, poured blood, sweat, and tears into her business, Honeydew Café, to provide for her children. A catering gig for successful and super sexy Dylan Price is the opportunity of a lifetime. But she quickly learns that Mr. Price is interested in more than her Southern cuisine. He has his sights set on her.
​
Dylan has been in love with Clarisse for years and would do anything to have her—even if it means forcing her into marriage. Lucky for him, the instant chemistry between them is hotter than a mid-summer day beneath the Georgia sun.

Yet Dylan is not completely honest with Clarisse, and when she learns the painful truth, will their love affair end? Or will they be able to find their way back to each other? 

“Mr. Price, what are you telling me? That I have a business partner or that I’m your employee? Are you looking to buy me out of Honeydew, because I’ve invested a lot of money in that café.”

“No, no, no…I’m not saying any of those things, Clarisse.”

“Then what?”

 He stands and makes his way to the windows and looks out at the skyline. The silence drags on, and I think he’ll never answer my question. When he finally speaks, what comes out delivers a shocking blow to me.

“Honeydew Café and the estate belong to me, and I control what happens to it. I’ll give Honeydew back to the Macintyre family, but not until your twins are able to claim their inheritance, and you know that’s not until their twenty-fifth birthday. But I’ll only do so if I get what I want in the meantime.”

“What do you want?” I ask, a hopeful tone to my words.

“You.”

“Me?” My voice rises in surprise.

“Yes, I want you, Clarisse.”

“You’re saying…”

“Marry me or I’ll demolish Honeydew. It’s a family home, and I don’t have use for it without a family. If you don’t marry me, where would that leave you and the twins? With nothing. Nowhere to live and no business to run. Marry me, and you get to keep everything.”

I honestly have no idea what expression I’m wearing, but I can imagine I look shell-shocked. I feel my head moving but I’m not sure if I’m shaking it or if it’s swaying because I’m going to faint. “How could you say that?” I hear myself shouting. “What kind of crazy person are you, Mr. Price?”

He remains by the windows, staring at me. The light frames his silhouette and I can’t help but think he looks angelic. His lean muscled body, broad shoulders, and beautiful features are almost hypnotic. Those words he spoke still linger between us, mingling through the expanse of silence. I’m burning with anger and confused by my arousal.

How could he want to marry me? He doesn’t know me. What he’s proposing is ridiculous. I have to free myself from this mad house. I stand and reach for my clutch bag.

“Clarisse, don’t go,” he says, his words firm and demanding. 

I swing around to face him, rage quickly building because he has yet to answer my questions and I’m fucking entitled to an explanation. He advances on me with his slow predator’s stride, his gaze laser focused on me, and I feel small and willing to allow him to take me. “Keep away from me! How dare you, and then just stand there looking…looking...?” What do I say? Beautiful? Seductive? Crazy? Well right now, he looks determined, and if I’m not mistaken, a little sad. I don’t know what the hell is going on today. “Looking like you’re looking at me now!”

“How am I looking, Clarisse? Like a man who knows what he wants and is willing to throw down the gauntlet to get his way, to get you.” He stands right in front of me, so close I feel his pulsing heat and I’m dizzy with need, but this is crazy and wrong.

“I don’t know you.”

“You’ll get to know me.” His voice lowers to a seductive whisper.

“Dylan, you don’t know me,” I whisper.

“But I know enough. I know you’re passionate, you’re a fighter, and you’re strong, sweet, and funny. You’re a great mother, who finds a way to balance her business and shower her children with love and attention. No doubt, you’ll make an amazing wife. Marry me and you keep your home.”
 
 
Sales links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N96L5N1
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/honeydew-s-taylor/1130422329?ean=2940161342558
Apple: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/honeydew/id1451116225?mt=11&at=1000ldsT
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/honeydew-7
Universal: books2read.com/Honeydew
​

​S. Taylor discovered a love of storytelling at the age of twelve. She would entertain her cousins with exciting adventures and tales of young love; which changed over the years from telling tales at sleepovers to writing several short stories. For S. Taylor writing remained a hobby until 2009 when she decided to share this love with others. She writes love at first sight romance novels full of passion, erotic moments and emotional conflicts with a satisfying happily ever after ending. She is a Texas native, wife and busy mother of five daughters. She spends her free time mediating sibling arguments, relaxing with yoga and discovering new and tasty vegan dishes she enjoys cooking for her family.
 
Contact links:
Website – www.staylorromance.com
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Romance columnist, Bristol Collins wants to heal her broken relationship with her fiancé, Joe after the loss of their daughter Camden. When she discovers treachery in her inner circle, she seeks solace in her professional life. Longing for more, she discovers within herself a secret passion to join The Lady Guardians, a strong, independent female motorcycle club. On her quest, she meets Rogue and one passionate night leads to more, and her search for freedom unlocks secrets in her life and his.

Firefighter, Maxwell “Rogue” Emerson loves his bike and his music, but lately he’s wanted one thing. One night with the beautiful but broken-hearted vixen named Wyked, has him wanting more than he’s allowed himself to dream of in the last five years.
​
When Wyked and Rogue join forces his love frees her to explore the woman she wants to be and uncover the woman she is destined to become. Will their love be strong enough to give her the healing she desires, even after she learns the truth about Rogue?

“So, what’d you think of the performance?” Onyx asked.

Shaking her head, Bristol struggled to find the words to speak. “It was…absolutely amazing. Like, I’ve never seen anything like it and the way he switches between the horn and the violin….” She couldn’t finish her statement.

“Yes, he has a way with the instruments,” Breezy stated.

“Looks like he has a way with his mouth and hands, too,” Bristol proclaimed boldly fueled with liquid courage. Her comment provoked laughter from the other ladies, quickly followed by silence.

Onyx, Breezy, and Wheels grabbed their drinks, busying themselves with sipping or fiddling with the straw in their drink.

“I do, maybe I can show you one night,” a sweet whisper came close to her ear, bringing a chill up her spine. Although she recognized his voice from onstage, she dared not turn around, but instead closed her eyes, wanting to disappear from embarrassment.

“Ladies, do you mind?” he asked, pulling out a chair next to Bristol.

“Not, at all?” they all stated in unison, causing Bristol’s eyes to fly open.

“Umm, I’m going to dance,” Wheels announced. “You ladies gonna dance with me?” she asked, looking around at Onyx and Breezy.

All three jumped up at once, deserting Bristol alone with the handsome stranger.

“Did you enjoy the drinks?”

“That was you? From an admirer.”

“Yeah, I was definitely admiring,” he replied, his eyes raking across her face. “Emerson,” he said, extending a hand to her.

Bristol finally found the courage to face him, her breath hitching in her chest as she extended her own hand. Emerson took it in his, turned it over and placed a soft, sweet kiss in her palm.

“Bristol…Bristol Collins.”

“I know who you are.”

Lifting an eyebrow, she feared his next words, knowing that might be a part of her fate going forward. Her face had been splashed across the television in news reports connected to the double shooting. She had not missed the glances she received when she entered the club. It was something she would have to become acclimated to in the near days until they completed the investigation. Something she did not look forward to.

“I read your column in the magazine. You’ve got some pretty insightful commentaries. Brilliant woman. I like that.”

“You…you read my column?”

“Yeah. So, I was intrigued when the ladies told me you’d be doing a piece on them.”

“You know The Lady Guardians?”

He nodded. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention I’d seen you a time or two on the news in recent days. But I don’t believe everything I see,” he stated.

“Good, I’m glad,” she replied, a sound of relief pouring from her lips.

“You’re glad, huh? Does that mean you’d be interested in opening up, allowing me to get to know the real you, and not that crazy ass picture they paint of you on the news?”

Bristol laughed. The first time she had done that in recent weeks. “I don’t know that there’s much to get to know.”

“Hmm, I’d beg to differ. From everything you’ve written, I can tell you’re a deep soul. You’ve got layers there, girl. I just wanna dig a little deeper, that’s all.”

His eyes caressed her in the low lighting. She turned her eyes away and grasped her drink, pulling it closer to her. His glances mixed with his provocative comment were getting underneath her skin.

“Can I bother you to dance with me?”

Looking around at the crowded dance floor, she spotted the other ladies enjoying themselves.

“Sure.”

When she stood, he wrapped an arm possessively around her waist and guided her onto the floor. It was just her luck that when they found a spot in a rear corner, the music changed from the fast-paced song to Bootsy Collins’ I’d Rather Be With You.

Moving her hips slowly to the beat of the music, she felt freer than she had in a long time. Emerson’s hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her closer to him. His eyes locked onto hers and when she attempted to look away, he commanded her not to.

“Hey, look at me,” he ordered.

She turned her eyes back to his, and he nodded. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Are you always this bossy?” she asked, attempting to calm the heat that was rising from her belly throughout her body.

“Not bossy. Just aggressive.”

“Aggressive?”

“Yeah, I see what I want, and I don’t play fair. I go after it until it’s mine,” he replied, licking his lips.

“What if the thing you want doesn’t want to be owned.”

“Baby, trust me, I’m a savage at this game. When I’m done, the thing I want will be begging me to own it. Trust me,” he replied, winking at her.

Bristol wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol she had been consuming, or her pledge while in jail to live her life to the fullest when released, or Joe’s pathetic apology. Whatever it was, she felt a bold streak consuming her while in his arms. She firmly planted both hands against his chest, liking the way his pectoral muscles felt. Her nails scrunched just slightly as she dragged them up. Emerson reached one hand from around her waist, grabbing both of her hands in his one. He looped one arm around his neck and then the other.

“Hold on for the ride,” he said, dipping slightly and sniffing her neck.

“The ride?”

“Yeah, the one I’m gonna take you on.”

“Mmm, this might just be interesting.”

“I promise, it will. Come a little closer,” he challenged.

Nuzzling her face into his neck, she felt like they were both being familiar with one another, though complete strangers. Swishing her hips, she felt herself grinding against him softly.

“Like that?” she offered.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groaned in her ear. And she could feel that he meant it, too.

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 role at a Fortune 500 company by day making it rain, and writing fiction novels by night for her brand, as well as others in the role of a 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, Marvelous March authors’ giveaways campaign, and showcases other authors here at www.chelleramsey.com/beautifully-inspired-blog. Her novels can be found online at Chelle Ramsey Amazon.

Being the gentleman he seemed to be, Ike asked me to dance. Our table didn’t have a clear view of the dance floor, and I was curious to see him dance. As soon as they came back, he reached for me and invited me to join him. I took his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice its clamminess. I’d been thinking about dancing with him since I’d extended the invitation.

My curiosity was satisfied when we joined the crowd on the multi-level dance floor, and Ike began to move. His relaxed, self-confident movements kept my gaze glued to his body. According to Bree, I was a decent dancer, for a white girl. I’d always been a quick study and learned the latest dances from my black friends. Jumping or hopping around would’ve gotten me crucified. Shelle could put anyone to shame on the floor, so I copied her. I’m sure she was aware of my mimicry, but she never let on. That’s why I loved these ladies. They understood me, and they also knew my attraction to black men wasn’t some kind of fetish. The only way I could describe it was they had a unique, mysterious quality they called flava. I found it to be so attractive. The way they walked and talked had a special rhythm white men didn’t have and couldn’t fake. Barack Obama had it. Just watching him walk off a plane or up to a podium was almost a religious experience.

I believe my interest developed when I was young, and the good Reverend Olson made it a rule that I wasn’t to hang around with the black kids. His insistence backfired on him and only made me wonder why. I set out to find out what was so awful about them. In elementary school I would intentionally walk home from school with black kids, because I wanted to hear what they talked about. Most of their conversations weren’t any different from the ones I had with my white friends with subtle differences. Like when they spoke a half-sentence or even a single word, and everybody knew what it meant but me. Eventually, I learned those nuances and became accepted as one of the group and made friends with a couple of the girls. They invited me to their houses after school, and I had to make up an excuse my mother would believe as to where I was. Mama couldn’t have cared less, but she knew she’d hear it from my father if he found out that she’d let me go. She had been born and raised in Alabama too, but she wasn’t racist. ​

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.

CONNECT W/CHICKI...

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BUY THE BOOK:
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When trust is broken, can it ever be repaired?
 
At one time, Terrence “T-Murder” Burrell had it all—a wife, three kids, and an extravagant lifestyle as one of the most popular rappers in the industry. Because of his cheating, he lost his family and knew his life would never be the same. But one night with his ex-wife changes his outlook, and he sees a chance not only to redeem himself, but reclaim the life he once took for granted.
 
Charisse Burrell divorced Terrence after he broke her heart one too many times. In a moment of weakness she gives in to her desires and makes a mistake that she soon regrets. Now Terrence wants her to believe that not only has he changed, they should try again. Her brain says she shouldn’t trust him, but will her heart give him another chance?

​“You’re not gonna answer me?” Terrence asked.

He was breathing hard, the way he did when he held an intense emotion. He could explode at any minute.

He chuckled and shook his head, then stepped away from the wall. “Well, well, well. Dudley Do Right ain’t so righteous after all, is he?” The fake smile snapped off his face in an instant. “What’s his last name?”

“Enough, Terrence! That was cute when we were dating, but the over-the-top jealousy thing is old and outdated, especially since we’re not together anymore.”

“Give me his name.”

“I’m done. You can show yourself out.” She made to walk away, but he slammed his hand against the wall, blocking her path.

“Name.”

She looked up at him. They were within millimeters of each other. If she weren’t angry, she’d sway into his chest. “What are you doing? Are you drunk?” She sniffed but didn’t smell alcohol. Only the stale scent of weed that he probably acquired in the studio.

“I’m not drunk. Tell me his name, Charisse. I deserve to know the name of the man who’s screwing my wife. Give me his fucking name.”

“First of all, I’m not your wife. Second, do I need to call the police and have them escort you off the premises? Do I need to say that I have a trespasser in the house, someone who’s here uninvited?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think you’re going to make me leave? This is my house. My name is on the deed, too. And I pay the bills here.”

He’d done this before when he was angry, and she absolutely hated it. “You think you can control me because you pay the bills? Would it make you happy if I left this house? Why don’t you put me out, Terrence?”

He appeared startled by the question.

“Whenever you get mad, this house magically turns into yours. Yes, your name is on the deed, too, but you said it was mine. I picked it. I wanted something simple I could manage where the kids and I would be safe from curious fans. I wanted normalcy. But now it’s your house. Thank you for letting me know where I stand.”

“Enough! You know I don’t want you to leave, and yes, this is your house. What I want… I just want to talk to the man.”

“There is nothing for you to talk to him about.”

“I need to know!” he said louder.

​“You know everything you need to know! Go.”

Buy Link
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​

Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sweet, sensual, passionate romance novels, born and raised in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free reads and the first chapter of all her novels at www.delaneydiamond.com.
 
CONTACT
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​Thanks for joining us for another annual 20 Days of Love! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, we would love to hear from you!

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A second chance at love, but some lies can't be forgotten or forgiven. 

Grace Smith reveals the truth.  


When the man she loves returns, Grace revelation put them both in danger. The last thing she wanted was for Mase to have to choose between his club and her, but there is no way the two can co-exist. The betrayal runs too deep. However, she'd risk it all for the chance to put her family back together, but doing so puts not only her, but the Lady Guardians in danger, as well.
 
Mase Scott has his answers. 
 
His revenge tour brings him to his club’s front door. The answers he's been seeking for years will tear his club apart and put the only woman he has ever loved in danger. Losing her again, can't happen. The easy answer is to give it all up for love, but he's a biker and his heart doesn't beat that way.  

Grace's Revelation (Part #2) is a sizzling MC Romance novella. If you like sexy alpha bikers, a strong biker beauty, and a steam love connect that spans over miles on the open road, you'll love Sydney Aaliyah Michelle's latest BWWM romance. 
​

​An unfamiliar bike sat in my driveway.

I scanned the area. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. 

I parked next to the strange bike and grabbed the gun from my lower back. I climbed off and clicked off the safety.

“Put the gun away, Gracie.” His voice came from the side steps that led to the porch. 

“No. I think I’ll keep it right where it is.” I clicked the safety back on, but held it in my hands. “In case some overly emotional asshole wants to put his hands on me again.”

I sidestepped around to get him in my sight. 

He chuckled and dropped his head.

“I’m sorry, Grace.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For hurting you.”

“Which time?”

“Fuck, Gracie, put the gun down.” He rubbed his face. “I tried to stay away, but I needed to see you.”
He looked up.

The pleading in his tone, hit me in the chest. The pain and hurt bubbled around the corners of his usually bright eyes and it crushed my heart.

I had been warring with my conscious all week trying to figure it out, figure us out.

When I thought about the things he said to me, I thought about the sweet things he whispered in my ear, the dirty things that made my body shiver.

When I thought of his hands on me, they comforted me, caressed me, and possessed me. His fingers inside of me made more of an impression than when they were around my throat.

What is wrong with me?

I put the gun away and walked past him up the steps.

​“Come on.” I opened the door and left it open as I walked into the living room.

Amazon Link:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N8HZSX1
Universal Link:  https://www.books2read.com/maseandgrace2
​

​Sydney Aaliyah Michelle is a Contemporary Romance writer, a voracious reader, tattoo lover, and movie fanatic who hails from Texas. After surviving 5 1/2 years living in China, she had the courage to finally pursue her passion and become a writer.

She identifies the sci-fi action flick "The Matrix" as the best representation of her life in the past. She is now blessed to be awake and doing what she loves. She can recite the entire script from the 80's teen comedy/drama "The Breakfast Club" and loves any and everything associated with the Avengers Movies, especially Tony Stark.

When it come to books, Sydney reads a myriad of genres, but some of her favorite writers are Stephen King, John Grisham, J.A. Huss, Julia Skyes, & Emily Bronte. Under the Dome, The Great Gatsby & Wuthering Heights are her favorite books.
​
Email Sydney at sydney@sydneyamichelle.com.
To learn more about Sydney, visit
www.SydneyAaliyahMichelle.com
 
Social Media Links:
 
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We were fully dressed, upright and not horizontal. Still, our inner connection was highly sensual, definitely intimate.

Feeling some new kind of need to know how intimate I could be without Que inside of me, I got to my feet. Without a word, I left Que where he was sitting to go scrounging in baskets neatly lining the built-in wall shelves in my closet. Returning with a small jar of body butter, I lowered the lights and lit several candles before sitting again. “Let me see your hands.”

Que complied, all curious and cautious. Que’s hands were big and solid, and a bit rough, like a working man’s.

Uncapping the body butter, I scooped out just enough to warm between my palms. “Everything in line for the grand opening?”

Que wasn’t buying my redirect. I knew he knew I was up to something. His answer was quiet and slow in coming. “Ronnie’s my boy. He came through like a champ. The work’s finished. We’re just waiting on our scheduled walk-through with county inspectors.”

“Congratulations,” I nearly purred, slowly covering Que’s hands with a thin layer of warmed body butter.

“What’s that?”

“Yaz’s baby sister recently launched her own product line. It’s her Vanilla Mango Spice. You like?”

“It’s nice,” Que suspiciously assented, as if I wasn’t worth trusting. “Relax,” I invited, releasing one of Que’s hands to change the music to what I liked: smooth, sensuous jazz. Smile locked low, I proceeded to give Quinton the hand massage of his life.

This man had shown me a satisfaction I’d only experienced while nude and nasty. Not that I was trying to get back at Que for being a flirty sadist, but I was curious as to whether I had depth enough to gift non-coital contentment to him.

“Even though I dislike your boy, Fre’Shawn, I gotta admit he’s good on his grind.”

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I merely looked up at Que and hummed, “Mmm-hmm.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate the idea of another man hovering over you.”

Raising one brow, I kept at my business, slowly massaging Que’s right hand. I was firm but tender, meticulously kneading away Que’s tiredness and tension.

“And most def ’, I don’t appreciate this whole situation. So, let me put this out here: you have an open invitation to stay with me.”

​I snorted a small laugh.

“I have a spare room, Joy. I’m just saying.”

My heart responded with pleasure like the beat of butterfly wings that this man cared enough to want to protect me. But I said nothing. I was busy experimenting.

The deeper, the more intense that hand massage, the more Que seemed to want to talk. It dawned on me that he was mouth-jocking, trying to avoid something. So, I shushed him to silence, intent that he feel whatever it was he was feeling.

I admit it was teasing, but not intentionally. I wanted this hardworking man to escape the cares of reopening a community center. I wanted him to relax and leave all the foolishness outside. Yes, I wanted Que to touch the sexual energy he’d unleashed in me. But this wasn’t solely about the flesh and the freak. And, okay, yes, there was a little bit of payback in it. But above all, I needed genuinely—in my own way—to convey I cared.

That right there was a lightning strike. I care for this man!

That made my head spin and my soul spread. But I didn’t back up. I let truth flow. Truth possessed me, filling me with heat, lust, and light. With only the sweet scent of Vanilla Mango Spice and the mellow sexy of jazz between us, I sat there, eyes locked on Quinton’s, and poured my whole self into my touch.
Neither of us spoke. Our sole physical contact was my hands massaging his. And I did it like I had a license. Our eyes fixed and focused on each other’s, we learned a wordless language together. Maybe it was me who was learning, and Quinton simply conveying. Whatever the case...our language was melodiously potent, hot, and unquestionably…orgasmic. When I felt neither of us could take much more without needing to cross the line to carnal contentment, I eased up.

Warming a final application in my hands, I rubbed body butter over Que’s muscled forearms before sealing all that sexy with a demure kiss to his cheek. “Let’s find something to eat,” I softly suggested, rising to my feet.

When I reached for Que’s hand, he held mine before kissing it. “Give me a minute.”

As Ma’Deen would say, “Who’d a thunk it?” Joy Matthews could lead us to a different kind of Nirvana through the touch of genuine care. I could give more of my true me. Smiling, I walked off, giving Baby Boy what he needed: time to tame and deflate that thunder beast.

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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Camille "Cami" Douglas doesn't have it all figured out. In fact, she is known for making a lot of mistakes in the name of living-it-up and following her free spirit, but this time she has bumped her head and broken her own heart in a way that has taken its toll. She's done. Logan Graham, also known as "Angel" by fellow paramedics, has issues of his own, but his came from a 911 call he responded to months ago that still gives him nightmares and makes him avoid the people closest to him. Two people, each broken apart by life's choices and circumstances, form a deep friendship because of one's need to be saved and the other's need to be hero. Both have to learn to use LOVE to heal old wounds and to redeem their battered souls.

“I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, man. I mean, I couldn’t believe she was out like that.”

Logan had been trying to wrap his brain around it all from the moment he realized that this wasn’t a normal call he responded to. Cami was full-spirited, vivacious, always smiling and if not smiling, intense.

Beautiful.

And yes, a little screwed up.

Something he could tell just by looking at her.

He officially met her for the first time during the rehearsals for his boy’s wedding. He was struck by how beautiful she was but then he thought she was just as intense as Amara. But after the wedding when they took the photos, she was the silly one. Making jokes and not doing what the photographer asked at all. He loved it. So naturally, he’d hope that they could share a few playful moments before they headed back to the winter dreariness in Pittsburgh, but as they talked at the bar it became clear she was preoccupied. She was constantly checking her phone, frowning whenever she saw or didn’t see something she liked. So he moved on and found a willing tourist to spend some time with.“I don’t know everything, but I know things have been rough for her lately. Sometimes my wife goes into another room to talk to her. I hear her soothing voice murmuring, like she’s trying to help Cami through something monumental. But Amara is private, and I respect how protective she is about her closest friend, so I only ask is Cami cool? And she’ll say, ‘she will be when she learns.’”

“Learns what?”

“Hell if I know. We are talking about women, Lo. What man you know that can figure them out?”

They both sat back in their seats at the same time contemplating the point. Logan was the first to speak up.

“I think with lots of listening and maybe with the understanding that it won’t make sense, we can make sense of it.” He looked over at Noah who just stared back at him with a blank expression. Then they busted out laughing earning a scowl from Amara who was still pacing in her jeans and one of Noah’s white V-neck undershirts she liked to confiscate from his underwear drawer every chance she could get.

“I think you need to go and comfort Doll. You know how she can get when we huddle together for too long.”

“That’s only because you used to call her Misery.”

“And how does she know that, huh?”

“It’s called pillow talk.”

“Yeah well, you don’t sell out your homies when you trying to get laid while lying on your pillow.”

“See if you’re saying that when it’s your woman looking at you all smoky-eyed and wet from hours of loving and asking you for your secrets,” Noah said with a grin that brought out the dip in his cheek.

“Too much info, man,” Logan said, shaking his head.

“You went there.”

“And you’re a punk.”

Noah didn’t deny it, he just looked at his beautiful wife as she took a call on her cell phone. Probably the call she’d been waiting for since she had tried reaching Mr. Douglas, Cami’s father. With it being so late, or early, depending on how you saw one o’clock in the morning, she was sure he was asleep. She had promised that if he hadn’t called or answered by two-thirty, she would go over there. He sent Joseph over there instead. “Knock it down if need be.” Joseph, being a fan of Amara, said he’d do whatever. 

Aja is the writer of sensually erotic and passionate women’s fiction. Her stories allow readers to experience realistic, inspiring, and soulful interactions and intense passion while overcoming life’s challenges. She is inspired by soulful music and sensual art to craft her stories. Her published works include the Love & Passion series and the Unexpected series with Roy Glenn. Love's Required is her latest release.

Author Links:

Aja's website: http://www.ajathewriter.com

Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.com/Aja/e/B00K30K138/

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Thanks for joining us for another annual 20 Days of Love! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, we would love to hear from you!

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​When I first visited this couple in ‘Young, Rich & Black’, they were in college and fell in love hard and fast. I was unprepared for the angst some readers experienced, wondering whether they would fall out of love as they grew up, and grew older. That got me wondering about the nature of love in general and young love in particular. In ‘Rhyme & Reason’, I look at how love can mature, be tested, and hopefully withstand the passage of time, misunderstandings, separation, and hardship. This sample is a scene showing the reconciliation of the Deuce and Zora from 'Young, Rich & Black', who after a period apart are about to get a hint that their feelings burn just as bright and as hot as they ever did.

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. 
​
She welcomes hearing from her readers at authorniaforrester@gmail.com or tweets @NiaForrester. And visit her at www.niaforrester.com 

He pulled a crushed packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans and offered me one. I accepted it and leaned in so he could light it for me. As I took that first illicit drag, he said, "I think I saw you earlier. I was in a café and I looked out the window and saw someone who looked a lot like you."

"I saw you, too," I admitted. We both exhaled smoke and watched the milky tendrils merge and swirl. We kept our backs to the bar and looked out over the water again. "And when I saw you in their... books, I was a little stunned."

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, either." His voice trailed down my spine. I stole a glance at him.

I was wrong earlier when I said he wasn't handsome. There was something so masculine about him. I couldn't really find the words to describe him. He was tall and lean, but there was a strength to him. Underneath his clothing was sure to be the body of someone who did not go to the gym, but who had the natural muscles and leanness of physical labor. He didn't have the perfectly slicked-back hair that most Scandinavian men seemed to favor; they wore it like a badge of their social class and their success. Mads's hair was a messy mop of waves and stray curls that looked coppery in the glow of the spotlights. He swept back the curls that hung in front of his eyes and revealed the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes.

I bit my lower lip. He was too good-looking for me, and he was smiling at me with such fierceness that I knew he felt something, too. He was watching me. I could feel the path his eyes took. My body tingled in anticipation.

"I saw you standing there and I thought, shit, this must be some kind of dream. Or maybe Ida was playing a joke on me."

We both laughed.

What were the chances?

Kim Golden was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In 1995, she left the US and moved
to Sweden for love with a capital L. When she isn't writing fiction, she writes copy about lipstick
and perfume for a Swedish cosmetics firm.

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

Follow Kim:
Facebook: http://facebook.com/SeeKimWrite
Website: http://kim-golden.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimiGM
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimigm/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kimigm/


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A warm August night that was filled with sizzling hot passion had been a secret for Adelia McGee and Jimmy Lee Daniels, in Blackmore, Texas. Oooh, but the old sayings quoted by the elders …what’s done in the dark will come to the light…the night has a thousand eyes…were so true. And in a small town where everybody knows your business. Please, be for real!

At forty-one, Adelia McGee is going to have a baby, and that was alright. The man she’s pregnant for is MIA, for now. But that was alright because she knew he did jobs out of town, and would be back for his holiday side hustle. Now, what’s not alright, is the news her mother drops on her. She and her step-father have retired and are moving back to the family home….nooo!

Jimmy Lee Daniels has been sniffing around Adelia McGee every since high school. He even beat up her high school sweetheart, little good it did him. And then the most wonderful and magical thing happened, yeah right. Then he had to do something really stupid. Why did he allow his self to get sucked into this love stuff? Too late now after what he did! Grrrrrrrl!

At forty-one years old, how could she say she did the unmentionable as far as she was concerned, and now must suffer the consequences of everybody knowing? She had been careless and totally out of character. Admit the truth Deli, if not to them, at least to yourself. She had been lonely, horny, desperate,
whatever, the end results, she had been sexually active with the town’s recluse, and now she was pregnant. And what she will admit, she enjoyed every magical caress, stroke, kiss, and each and every powerful in and out thrusts. But most of all, she loved the tingling out of body feelings she experienced.

“Deli, you’re saying you had sex with Jimmy Lee Daniels?” shouted Jo.

Startled with Jo’s outburst, Deli couldn’t believe she actually said what she was thinking out loud. Pat was ecstatic and not because she was pregnant. She and Jimmy Lee Daniels finally got together. The thought of that caused her to place her hand over her heart, and take a seat at the nearest table. Jo and
Deli joined her. Pat had prayed that the two would stop dancing around each other and admit there was something between them. Her girl hadn’t shown any interest in the other two dudes, who had made their little sandwich shop their frequent spot for a meal, vying for her attention. But when Jimmy Lee walks through those doors, Deli’s face lightens up. Pat finally spoke, “Deli, how many times did you enjoy,
and I quote, every magical caress, stroke, kiss, and most of all his powerful in and out thrusts?

Deli gasped and covered her big mouth!

“How many times Missy?” Pat demanded.

“Enough to be pregnant!” she cried.

“I knew it and not the least bit surprised. Jimmy Lee Daniels has been feeling you since we were teenagers and you, him. And don’t you dare try to deny it,” warned Pat. Deli and Jo’s baffled expression caused her to laugh. “Jo, you keep your head in the sand too much. And you my friend,” pointing, “can be read like one of those romance books we read. When it’s his Sunday to work in the worship service, you can’t keep your eyes off of him.”

Both women looked dumbfounded. Pat snickered. “But that man does look good in a suit and would be GQ fine with that dark chocolate skin and six-six height, if he would get some of that wooly hair off his face. That’s what takes away from his appearance, except when he wears that black suit. He looks so
good sometimes I have to ask for forgiveness.” ♥

Jimmy Lee pulled his Winnebago off the interstate into the parking lot of the truck stop. He found a spot in line with a few other recreational vehicles and parked. For what good it was going to do, he stripped down to his boxers, pulled the navy stripe comforter back, and crawled between the matching sheets, to
take a short nap. Half covered, hands behind his head, he laid wide awake with her on his mind and of course that night. He had been sniffing behind Deli like an old hound dog, bad for the last few months, going to the diner and boldly asking  for her to serve him. He even waited until the end of the day hoping to catch her alone. Man, did he get lucky that night. Although it was past closing time and she had worked a full day, Deli was absolutely beautiful. She was a tall striking beauty with wide hips, thunder thighs and shapely legs, cantaloupe size breasts, just the right size butt and a neat waist for a woman her size. The shade of orange she wore that night brought out her ginger spice skin, which he now knows is soft and silky to the touch. Her dark honey-brown short hair, which was curly and highlighted with light gold streaks, crowned her heart-shaped face. Her professional arched browns were slightly thick but sexy. And that sexy mouth and lips of hers invited him to wet his tongue. But he wanted and had to have more than that. He wanted to taste and feel every inch of her. His mind took over his good judgment, even if she was a willing and fervent participant.

Once he had his way with her, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison, if Mr. McGee didn’t kill him first. He hid out on his property for three days, nothing, and then he had the foolish notion; just maybe she was feeling him too. You couldn’t ignore the sizzling, passionate chemistry between them, which he was very much aware of. Their lovemaking had been undeniably magical. To show what a big lovesick fool he was, he did something really stupid. Best to his ability, he wrote her a
letter pouring out his heart and soul, admitting he loved her. All he asked was for her to respond, one way or the other. He even gave her his cell, which was a first. No woman has ever had that opportunity. He knew what people said about him, but he was a man with a nice bankroll and security. At any rate, she chose to ignore him completely, which cut him deep to his soul, stripping him all the way down to his manhood. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken it so hard, if he hadn’t put on paper so she could laugh with her friends, Jo and Pat. He felt violated and exposed. As long as he lives, he will never use those words again. ♥

Hello everyone, I am native Houstonian with two adult daughters. I’ve spent my adult life teaching children in the public school system and loved every minute of it. Now, I’m a retired (Halleluiah) teacher of thirty plus years and love every minute of that for sure. My main interest and hobbies includes listening to Pandora, my own playlist which inspires my writing, playing spider solitaire, working bent and wiggly word search and Sudoku puzzles. I’m also an avid reader of every genre in the AA Romance category which prompted me to become a writer. 

Now, a little bit about my writing. It’s an honor and pleasure to invite you into my world of women fiction with sweet romance. I love to write what I enjoy reading. Therefore, I have penned and self-published seventeen of the sweetest tales with plus size women of all ages as the heroine, touching your every emotion. I have three series, Allanville’s Matchmakers, The Golden Years, and A Second Chance. My heroines are beautiful and sophisticated with high self-esteem. They are not looking for a man to validate their worth…just love them for who they are. Dramas, the element of surprise with twist and turns, romance and a little bit of heat, are featured in each story. I have created a group for those who enjoy my stories. I would like to extend an invitation to you. Here’s the link…

https://www.facebook.com/groups/151438282104321/?ref=br_rs

W Parks Brigham Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/kindle-dbs/entity/author/B00G4IPAMU?_
Website: http://www.wparksbrigham.com/.
FB Author W Parks Brigham
Email: wparksbrigham@writeme.com
​Two Magical Hearts…
http://bit.ly/2MagicalHearts