Publication Date: March 31st 2017
Michelle wakes up knowing one thing: she had escaped hell. She wants nothing more than to keep running and ensure she’d never be caught again.
Healing minds, healings souls is what they do. It’s what all Incubus and Succubus do. Dawn had to help Michelle and if it healed Mason in the process all the better.
Mason had his own problems. He’d come to The Whispering Winds to recover from his own past not be drawn into more human drama and emotions.
None of them expected the heart punching connection they found together.
The danger isn’t over yet. Can Dawn, Mason and Michelle come together to defeat the evil that threatens to tear them apart before they can give their love a chance?
Available from: Kobo, Amazon, ITunes, Kindle Store.
The Whispering Winds
Michelle came to consciousness slowly, shocked that she still lived. She didn’t move, a stillness learnt from past necessity kept her from betraying the fact that she had awoken. She had no idea where she was, or who might be around. Taking a quick inventory of her pain wracked body she didn’t think anything had been broken. Aches existed everywhere on her body, evidence of the bruising that surely covered her. A deep pain in her jaw and inside her mouth told of damage there and an inevitably swollen and puffy face. Injured, but ALIVE she analyzed. She would survive this as she had so many other things.
A shuffling sound to her left let her know that the room was otherwise occupied. Without moving she touched the bed beneath her, soft, smooth fabric met her fingertips, unlike the thin foam that she had slept on for the past eight years. A slight inhale had the scent of oranges suffusing her nose. Definitely not in the trailer anymore. Ever cautious she cracked one eye a sliver; enough to see soft light filtering through an eyelet style curtain that moved in the breeze, giving brief glimpses into a forest that spanned beyond the window.
She had no idea where she might be and fought for control of her breathing and her body, she would NOT panic. A soft voice invaded her ears before she could freak out.
“I know you’re awake.” The quiet, calm female voice spoke. “You are safe here.”
Michelle opened her eyes warily, meeting the gaze of the woman. Her brown eyes were almost hidden behind the fringe of black bangs as she looked back steadily. “My name is Calia. I’ve brought you some orange juice.” She tilted her head towards a glass that sat on an ornate silver tray along with a bagel, knife and small bowl that Michelle assumed contained butter or jam. The tray stood on the bedside table within easy reach of Michelle. “Don’t move too fast you are still injured, and you have been asleep for some time. I wouldn’t want you to get dizzy. If you are hungry there is a fresh bagel there as well.”
Michelle’s eyes flickered to the tray and then with mistrust at the woman standing a cautious distance away. “Where am I?” Her voice scratched at her throat painfully.
“This is The Whispering Winds. It is an artist’s retreat just outside of Morrisburg Ontario.” Calia’s black hair flowed over her shoulder, she moved slowly treating Michelle as tenderly as a frightened animal.
“How did I get here?” Michelle demanded, hating the weakness in her voice.
“I found you barely clinging to a log in the river that flows along the edge of my property. I am a … healer and I brought you to my home to help you. Can you tell me your name?” Again her soft and soothing voice only served to irritate Michelle.
“Michelle.” She struggled to sit up, cursing the pain that filled her even more now that she moved. “And while I thank you for your hospitality, I need to go.” Spots danced in front of her eyes as the world seemed to tilt on its axis. A physical and mental weariness threatened to take over but through sheer willpower Michelle pushed it back and attempted to stand.
“Michelle.” Worry filled Calia’s voice as she moved closer. “You are in no shape to go anywhere. I don’t know what happened to you but I assure you that here, you are safe.” She reached out to touch Michelle’s arm when she teetered slightly but Michelle flinched away. “You are safe. Please,” her agonized voice drifted over the room. “Get back into bed. Let us take care of you. You aren’t in any shape to go anywhere.”
Realizing the futility of attempting to leave when she couldn’t even stand on her own Michelle lowered herself back onto the bed, defeat in her posture. Even her mind felt fuzzy and in this state she couldn’t escape anywhere. She needed time to heal, to regain her energy. Taking a deep breath and wincing at the twinge in her ribs she knew she’d have to trust this woman, for now. If she ran she wouldn’t make it far and if Phelon, she cringed at the mere thought of him, if he found her she would never escape again.
Without speaking Calia seemed to sense her acquiescence and handed her the glass of orange juice before moving away to a safe distance. She hummed lightly as she watched, a tune that calmed Michelle as she took a tentative sip of the juice, disturbed that the tiny cup required the use of both her hands to hold it without dropping it. Bright orange exploded on Michelle’s tongue, the juice was freshly squeezed and tasted like heaven after the scanty meals she had had recently. Knowing she needed sustenance to heal she drank the rest down.
“Michelle, please sleep. It will help. I have others here who will help you, and when you wake, we will all endeavor to make you healthy again.”
Overwhelmed with weariness Michelle set down her now empty glass and palmed the knife off the tray as she lay back down clutching her weapon to her chest. Making sure she faced the door she watched out of the corner of her eye as Calia pulled the curtains closed, darkening the room and with a sigh of defeat Michelle closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.
Publication Date: February 9th 2016
Everyone remembers their childhood as being magical, Lee just found out hers really was.
After suffering a run of bad luck, Lee wants nothing more than to lick the wounds of her past and bury herself away from reality, but she discovers a world of magic, a history she never realized existed. Her destined elementals are being held against their will and the only way to find them is to align with the incredibly delectable, unbelievably stubborn Jeremy. They wind down pathways that will take their undeniable chemistry even higher as they move closer to the sinister plot that has stolen her birthright. Together they will find the villain and learn that sometimes fire and water can mix with steamy, hot results.
A spark of flame glows, A sprinkle of rain slows….
Amazon, Kobo, Kindle store or my publisher Tirgearr,
Bill excused himself and stood, forcing Lee to lean away so that he would have space to leave the table, her hand reached behind her to steady herself and brushed against a hard male muscular thigh. She whipped her head around to stare into Jeremy’s eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She smiled and moved her hand away from the hard muscles she had touched. Her fingertips still tingled.
“No problem.” Jeremy spoke for the first time; his voice low with a distinct growl to it. “So what is Lee short for?” He asked.
“I prefer just Lee. But my full name is Leandra.” Lee found herself turning towards Jeremy, wanting to talk to him.
“Leandra suits you.” His voice brooked no argument, as though he stated a fact. “So little Leandra, full of fire, what brings you to Toronto?”
Lee watched his eyes, trying to suss out if she was being made fun of. Finding nothing but serious enquiry on his face, she answered. “My father died six months ago, and then our home burnt down last month. I decided the time had come to try my luck in the big city.”
“You’re around the same age as the rest of us, I’d say. Mid-twenties? Why did you stay home so long?” His eyes narrowed as he watched her, and he leaned out of the shadows so that Lee could see the slight scruff that marred his perfect jaw line. Total bad ass screamed into Lee’s mind as she watched him.
Jeremy nodded as though agreeing with her.
“My dad got sick just before I graduated from high school. I stayed home and took care of him.”
“What did he get sick from?” Jeremy asked.
“He had a massive stroke. It left him unable to speak, or move easily. He suffered for nearly six years. As much as I grieved for him, it was a blessing for him.” Lee tore her gaze away, stifling the emotions that threatened her when she thought of her strong, capable dad reduced to relying on her to feed him.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Where was your mother?” Jeremy showed a genuine interest; he leaned towards her, and cocked his head listening while she spoke.
“My mom died a long time ago.” Lee gazed at him, confused as to why she answered all his questions while she knew little more about him besides he looked divine in the black, fitted, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans he wore to perfection. He was a hell of a specimen of manliness. Lee wanted to reach up to confirm that any drool existed only in her lust-addled brain and didn’t actually drip down her chin.
Lee shook her head. Jeremy looked at her for quite some time, until the silence became uncomfortable, and Lee was filled with self-consciousness. His eyes lightened; they went from a sapphire ringed with green to an aqua almost blue-green. His gaze wandered over her face and his jaw tightened.
After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “So little Leandra, all alone in the big bad world. Thinking her tattoos and bad ass attitude along with her charms,” he smirked the word, “will help her get by.”
“Excuse me?” Lee shook her head, taken aback by what he said.
“Just making an observation. You seem to be one of those 'woe is me' kind of girls. You come here talking big, telling everyone your sob story. You’re looking for someone to take care of you.”
“Really?” Lee’s voice rang out like a whip. “And you appear, to me, to be a dick for brains who makes assumptions based on a snap judgment. You asked me questions, I answered and now after an entire five-minute conversation you think you know me? Please. Get over yourself.” She turned around to face the group, determined to ignore the ass hat sitting beside her.
Unable to focus on the conversation she stood and moved to the bar, definitely ready for another drink and unwilling to wait until the waitress returned.
As she stood at the long gleaming wooden counter, she took several long breaths. The bartender took her order and then moved away to retrieve her drink.
A sixth sense came over her and she knew someone stood behind her, she turned to see Jeremy, his six foot four inch frame towering over her. The top of her head came up to his chin. Nonetheless, determined not to let him intimidate her, she put her hands on her hips and glared up at him.
“What? Come to try to make me feel bad? Listen buddy, that’s not gonna work. I’ve dealt with apes like you for a hell of a long time, and no one is going to make me uncomfortable. I don’t have any idea what I did to make you think so low of me, and frankly I don’t give a shit. It could be as simple as you man-struating but whatever, it doesn’t matter. Men like you are a dime a dozen.” She went to turn around until Jeremy spoke.
Publication Date: October 31st 2014
Anna is your average small town girl, she works at a bookstore, likes to cook, she is quiet, klutzy, and unassuming -the girl next door.She is also a Supernatural Creature.Becoming a Zombie has brought her nothing but heartache, her family life, her love life even her self-esteem have been shattered as a result of her transformation.After sitting on the side lines of life for too many years trying to not attract attention Anna, with much badgering from her best friend Jenny, decides to take control and begin dating again.Unfortunately her foray into the world of Supernatural Singledom is met with disaster.Thrown into the proverbial arms of the one man who hurt her more than any other, by a psychopath bent on her destruction, Anna is forced to reevaluate her opinion of Nathan.Much to Anna’s surprise the unbelievably hunky officer is not at all what she thought and she has a hard time keeping her hands off his delectable body.Their steamy chemistry is overwhelming as they discover that together they can find out and overcome the fiend who is behind the attempts on Anna’s life.
When a tiger hunts its prey, it stalks it with a superb single minded nature. Tonight, Anna, that’s what we are. Tigers. Hunting our prey.”
“And am I to assume our prey would be of the male persuasion? Preferably chock full of chewy goodness?”
“Definitely. The chewier, the better.” Jenny fluffed her perfect black hair as she spoke.
“Jenny, you can be the tiger. I’d rather be a deer. Hanging out at a distance and letting the other animals come to me.”
“Anna—seriously, being a deer is boring. Just for tonight, be a tiger with me.” Her voice took on a wheedling quality. “It’s my special night. Try to be bold for me.”
Anna took a deep breath. “For you, my friend, I’ll try. But no promises.”
“Woo hoo! All right. Mysterious smile—check. Boobs up—check. Hips swaying—check. We’re ready; let’s take this place by storm!”
The bar called the Rec’d Room was quickly filling up, what with it being a Saturday night. The two girls, best friends, complete opposites and yet both stunning in their own way, managed to make quite an entrance. Heads turned and stared; a number of men and a few women as well felt their jaws drop at the sight of Jenny and Anna.
Anna, always a little conservative, had gone all out, or at least as all out as she dared. She wore tight fitting dark blue jeans that cupped her butt in a very attractive manner and elongated her legs, making her look taller. It also helped that she was wearing red stiletto high heels. A fire engine red pleather corset style top with lacing down the back pulled in her stomach and gave her an hourglass shape which definitely flattered her breasts. Gravitational cleavage, Jenny had called it.
Anna wore makeup, something she rarely did. Her grey eyes were smoky looking with heavy liner and her lashes extended with mascara. Bright red fingernails and matching lipstick completed her ensemble.
Her hair was a shimmering curtain of soft curls that flowed down her back in a stunning red wave. When she moved, the corset lacings peeked through. The corset had no shoulders or sleeves, and her pale skin glowed, pearlescent in the black lights as they walked across the worn wooden floor.
Jenny, on the other hand, had gone with an upscale look. She had on black heels that added an additional five inches to her already considerable height. She wore a short-short silver dress that barely covered her butt cheeks, but it made her legs look about a thousand feet long. The dress was a high neck halter style with almost no back. The front was plain but glittering, and every time Jenny moved Anna thought she would flash the world her hoo-hoo, but by some miracle of fashion design it managed to cover the necessities.
Jenny’s black hair was pinned up artfully in a messy, just tumbled out of bed, sexy style. Her makeup was light, giving the look of natural beauty, as though she didn’t require any makeup.
Jenny had just gotten a promotion from branch manager to financial planner and had wanted to go out to celebrate. She had rented them both rooms at a bed and breakfast in London and was all fired up to go to this new club she had just heard about. In Ontario there weren’t a lot of great bars unless you wanted to travel all the way to Toronto, but the Rec’d Room sounded promising and a heck of a lot closer to Stratford.
The B and B was a beautiful old Victorian home with old world charm coming out the wazoo. Their rooms were adjoining, but since Jenny had vague plans about bringing home a hottie from the bar for a little play, she had made sure that both of them had their privacy. An hour or so had been spent getting dolled up, running back and forth borrowing lipstick, getting opinions, and laughing a lot. They decided to get an early start and had cracked open a bottle of wine, which they finished up just as the cab Jenny had ordered for them arrived and transported them across town.
Jenny led the way, as she always did, through the semi crowded bar towards the dance floor. The bar was long and rectangular in shape. The front section had large windows that looked out over Dundas Street and comfy booths with a few pool tables; it was quite a bit quieter in the front if you wanted to have a conversation.
The back two thirds of the bar had a large dance floor on one side ringed with a couple of tables. On the other side of the room was a large metal and glass bar along with the separated DJ area. In the back were the washrooms and a few more tables.
Jenny manoeuvred the bar like a pro and snagged one of the last tables on the edge of the dance floor. Both girls were in complete agreement about the necessity of a table, wearing stiletto heels like they were. Anna took a seat to hold the table while Jenny went over to the bar to get drinks, taking a look around to familiarize herself with the layout. Anna was somewhat impressed. The bar looked nice, clean, and easy to move around in, even if slightly intoxicated. The dance floor was large enough, and a few people were already letting loose on it.
Anna’s eyes wandered to the bar where admirers already surrounded Jenny. She shook her head with laughter. Jenny could meet men at a nunnery.
Soon enough Jenny and three new friends joined Anna at the table, and after introductions, which Anna promptly forgot, the tallest man and Jenny stepped out onto the dance floor. Dance lessons had paid off for Jenny; even as an adult she had a grace, a way of moving, that Anna was envious of.
A few drinks and a few dances later Anna was in the midst of an inane conversation with one of the guys when she saw HIM.
Walking towards the bar was this burning hunk of a man. He was just over six feet tall with a natural grace that reminded Anna of a panther. His hips rolled as he strode confidently to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was virtually panting at the opportunity to serve him.
He wore black jeans that should have been illegal, they hugged his ass in such a delicious way. Anna’s stomach flipped in a shot of pure lust. The view of his back muscles rippling through his fitted long sleeve black T-shirt made Anna’s mouth go dry.
Then he turned around, and Anna felt warmth spread throughout her. A chiselled jaw line, luscious lips, and sandy blond hair falling over his forehead in an unmistakeably dreamy manner.
His eyes scanned the bar in a detached manner; he didn’t seem to notice the music, just held his Corona and sipped while looking around. Anna could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and she had to force herself to breathe.
She leisurely let her eyes go up the full length of him, from his combat style boots and up the shapely legs, pausing for a brief moment of heaven on the pects, whose outline was visible through the thin shirt. Her eyes travelled up his neck to the heartbreaking face and froze. Staring straight back at her, this drop dead gorgeous man arched an eyebrow in silent question. With a smirk on his face, Anna knew he was asking if her expectations were met.
She instantly broke the eye contact and dropped her face, her hair creating a shield, but not before feeling the tell-tale redness flood her cheeks.
She jumped out of her chair, startling the guy who was in the middle of talking to her, mumbling something about using the facilities. Anna escaped as quickly as possible.
In the ladies room Anna calmed herself. Looking in the mirror, she had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t made a complete ass of herself and that he couldn’t possibly be as hot as he appeared.
Finally her face no longer a tie-dyed announcement of her shame, Anna flipped her hair back over her shoulders, grabbed her courage, and stalked out of the room, straight into a wall of solid, sumptuous smelling man. Warm hands gripped her upper arms which prevented Anna from falling flat on her face. After taking another inconspicuous sniff (he smelled like man—so good, almost spicy), she took a step as far back as possible while he still held onto her.
She looked up, up, and up some more to see the man from the bar looking back at her. She scanned his face, looking for some flaw, and realized to her dismay he was just as good looking up close and personal.
“Damn, woman.” His voice was a growl that sent Anna’s libido bouncing. “You ought to be locked up.”
Anna frowned with confusion. “Uzgh-ba?” Shaking her head to dislodge this eye candy’s drug-like influence, she tried again and managed this time to speak fluent English. “What are you talking about?”
“Staring at a man like that.” He nodded his head in the direction of the bar. “Looking like you do.” He licked his lips as he glanced at her barely concealed assets trapped by the prison of a corset. “Making me want you so bad I’m acting like a sixteen year old. Tell me you’ll dance with me?”
Anna lost the capability for speech entirely as he looked at her with those intense blue eyes, so she merely nodded in agreement. He took her hand. “I’m Nathan,” he said and began leading her to the dance floor.
If you haven't had a chance yet check out the trailer I had made.
Publication Date: March 11th 2015
Kira always did what was expected of her. Fall in love young, get married, and settle into a normal life. That’s the path, the end goal, the dream, right?
Unfortunately her whole life was turned upside down when her husband walked out and her dreams came tumbling down along with her self-esteem. Kat never expected to be single again, let alone at thirty-eight. Now she needs to learn to love herself and rediscover the person she was meant to be.
Her first foray into the world of being single surprises her and very quickly she is faced with an impossible, but delectable decision to make, the repercussions of her selection will affect her entire future.
She changes, she chooses and finds her path, eventually
A contemporary romance novella about love and dating in a modern age.
1 CHAPTER ONE
Matronly? Who the hell did he think he was? Kira wasn’t even forty yet and that rat bastard of an ex-husband said she looked like she should be wearing muumuus, granny panties, and a utilitarian bra. He hadn’t hesitated to yell out that she dressed more like his mother than a woman he would find attractive. Of course, that was right before he left her for a miniskirt-wearing, marathon-running twenty-two-year-old, whose ass was still perfect and her breasts perky without the support of a bra.
Kira shook her head, trying to dislodge the memories. It had been five months since Steve had left. Five months of being alone. Five months of tears and recriminations, none of which changed the facts: she was on her own. They had never had children, thinking their lives were better without them, and now Kira wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Sometimes she felt it was better that no one else was being hurt by the collapse of her marriage. Other times she longed for someone to share her misery with, a child who would be hers even if she was slightly overweight, who would love her even when she got old. But that was not to be her fate.
She was a thirty-eight-year-old newly divorced woman. The last few months had been instructional at least. Being forced to look at herself honestly and decide whether Steve was telling the truth, or only spewing filth to avoid his own feelings of guilt, had been revealing.
Kira knew she wasn’t perfect—no one would call her curvy hour glass body perfect. Her breasts were large and unruly (they didn’t like following simple instructions, like stay inside the bra), her frame wasn’t petite. At five foot eight she stood heads above all those perfectly perky little pixies, looking more like an Amazon than a sexy woman. Her once rich auburn hair had faded to a softer brown and her face had laugh lines. She was, after all, thirty eight.
So although she knew she could stand to lose a few pounds, and that she was in no way, shape, or form a twenty-year-old any longer, she also knew she wasn’t too bad.
The only thing Steve had been right about was her sense of fashion. Over the last couple of years she had allowed comfort to become more important than style. Her sagging, too big yoga pants should never have seen the outside of her apartment, yet had become the uniform she wore most days. Her flip flops and running shoes, the go-to shoes: Kira couldn’t remember the last time she wore anything that resembled a heel, when once upon a time that was all she wore. Mind you, that had been Steve’s preference; he couldn’t stand it when she wore high heels and towered over his five-foot-ten-inch tall frame, so to make him happy she had stopped wearing footwear that made her any taller.
Her hair had grown straggly and was worn most days in a ponytail down her back, because it was easier. Her legs got shaved sporadically at best. Although she was always fastidious about snatch styling her hoo-hah (because nothing in the world was worth growing a 1970s bush), she occasionally let her legs slide. Her makeup drawer was nearly empty except for some simple mascara and clear lip gloss.
Today was the day she changed that. Kira stood in front of Clips, the most exclusive salon here in Chatelane. Glancing at her watch, she took a breath and stepped inside. Immediately the air conditioning hit her, cooling her overheated skin as the soothing music and soft lighting relaxed her.
Kira stepped up to the desk, a monstrosity of glass and metal. A young man looked up and smiled. His black hair had way too much product in it, as it stood precariously on end, defying all laws of nature and fashion. But his eyes were kind and his smile one thousand watts, showing the benefits of modern dentistry.
“Hi, I’m Kira, I have a three o’clock.”
“Of course, darling.” The receptionist had a drawl that sounded somewhat southern as he slurred the word ‘dawlin’ and fiddled with the computer for a few moments before turning back to her. “You’re with Lindsay. She should be ready for you any minute. Can I get you a coffee? Or a water?”
“No thanks.” Kira smiled and sank into one of the comfortable chairs, grabbing a magazine to flip through while she waited.
Bare moments had passed when Lindsay approached. She was in her late twenties, another of the pert little things, maybe topping five foot. Her porcelain skin was made up perfectly and a broad smile slashed the bright red mouth in half. Her hair (as expected of a hairstylist) was stunning. A rich curtain of white blonde with streaks of blue and purple seemingly placed at random.
“Kira ?” she asked, holding out her hand.
Kira stood, once again towering over another woman; regardless, she smiled, nodded, and shook the woman’s hand.
“I’m Lindsay. Let’s head to the back.” She led Kira through the reception area and into the bowels of the salon. She indicated a chair with a graceful hand and Kira sat down, stealthily avoiding looking at herself in the plethora of mirrors.
“What is it we are doing for you today, Kira?” Lindsay asked.
“Um. A haircut?” Kira answered.
Lindsay laughed pleasantly, a sound Kira imagined fairies made while passing wind, before speaking sternly, as though to a child. “No, sweetie, one doesn’t come to Clips for a ‘haircut’.” She sneered the word as though it tasted bad in her mouth. “You come to Clips for a hair style.”
“Okay then, a style. A trim. Maybe a couple inches off.” Kira met Lindsay’s blue eyes with dismay.
“When you booked the appointment, I am sure you said you wanted a change. Is that not correct?” Kira nodded miserably; she never felt comfortable being decisive. She and Steve used to take hours just trying to decide where to go to eat, since neither of them could choose.
“Well then, sweetie, how about you let me take charge? I am the best. I can make you look like a million bucks, if you’ll let me have free reign. Let’s make you feel like the beautiful woman you deserve to feel like.” Instead of being condescending, her words reassured Kira.
Lindsay was smiling softly at Kira, whose eyes were suspiciously damp as she nodded and whispered. “Your choice then. Just make me different. Give me the full treatment.”
With that, Lindsay grinned and took over.