A New Year

So I know I'm like 14 days behind but Happy (Belated) New Year!!! I hope you guys had a great holiday season with lots of mushy gushy time with your loved ones. Xmas is always my fave time of the year, though this one was a little stressful since I made the pilgrimage back home to the East Coast. Blame my absence round these parts on babysitting the cutest. niece. ever. She's all smiley and talking baby gibberish and just cute enough to eat.  Anyway, I'm back in Cali and it's January 14 so I can no longer blame the fam for my procrastination.

2012 was a great year for me...I published my first story about a plucky college grad who fell for her dominant boss. It's crazy that these characters that bounced around in my head made their way to paper and people actually fell in love with them too and connected with their story on a level I never dreamed possible. You guys, all of my fans and readers, helped make 2012 one of the best years of my life; a year where I actually started to believe in myself and my storytelling ability. So thank you. :) :) :)

I know 2013 is going to be even better. I have a new adult-ish story (His Dark Lessons) that's coming to a close, and I decided to work on a sequel to Jacob and Leila's story! Just to remind you, I decided to release it in serial format.

Here is my (tentative) upcoming schedule for the next few months:

-Releasing The Billionaire's Girlfriend (Part 5) on January 25
-Releasing The Test, the final installment in the His Dark Lessons series, in early Feb
-Releasing The Billionaire's Secret (Part 6) in late February
-Releasing The Billionaire's Lust (Part 7) in late March
-Releasing Untitled Part 8 in late April

January 25 is right around the corner, but I figured I'd give you guys a snippet from the story. Expect another taste during release week (January 21-25)!

Thanks again for all of your support. You guys are amazeballs.


Excerpt from The Billionaire’s Girlfriend (His Submissive, Part 5)

I careened off Douglas Blvd, headed toward the quiet subdivision my parents lived in. Douglas Heights was lined with modest homes and tailored yards. Since most residents were retirees or single families, the most excitement one would find was a cookout or two or a nail biting game of bridge. Quiet, chill, and no stress was just what the doctor ordered after the whirlwind month I’d had.
If you would have told me four weeks ago that I'd land a job at Whitmore and Creighton and end up falling in love with the billionaire CEO Jacob Whitmore, I probably would have laughed right in your face. Well, maybe part two would have been believable. With his broad shoulders, bronzed skin, piercing blue eyes and a face that made the rounds in every red-blooded woman’s fantasy, falling for Jacob in some form or fashion was a mathematical certainty. But getting to know the man behind the coldly handsome facade and him falling for me? Impossible.
But Jacob had spent the past month showing me that anything could happen and my wildest dreams could come true. From museums that took my breath away and foods that brought my palette to life to the lush Italian countryside and sultry Venice nights, I didn't want for anything. And in the bedroom, submission had transformed from a foreign thing I'd only read about into something that just clicked like a lost puzzle piece. He knew me inside and out. He knew me better than I knew myself.
But being Jacob Whitmore's girlfriend wasn't all midnight strolls, private jets, and kinky activities behind closed doors. Because of his high profile business, publicity and public relations for celebrities, he'd become a celebrity in his own right--which meant his personal life wasn't quite so personal. And since I was the mysterious new squeeze, neither was mine.
I needed Douglas Heights. I needed the ease and comfort of it; a predictable reality without cameras shoved in my face. And the fact that my mother had been harassing me ever since we landed,wanting the scoop on the trip, definitely tipped the scales.
I frowned as I spotted cars peppering the road leading up to their subdivision. They were parked every which way, obviously not caring who they were inconveniencing. I slowly tugged my old sedan between two non descript vans, cursing under my breath. Who the hell would throw a party at 11 a.m. on a Thursday morning? And why did none of them know the basics of parking a vehicle?
And then I saw them. Men in button down shirts, skittering across the pavement in tennis shoes. Tennis shoes were a must. How else would they dart around to get that perfect, embarrassing shot?
Paparazzi. What were the hell were they doing in Douglas Heights?
My heart shot to my throat as I slammed on the brakes. I follow the breadcrumbs with my eyes to a familiar white and green shuttered house. A house where the yard was always kept trimmed and leaves never stood a chance. A house where an ancient F 150 was parked dutifully at the curb and an Accord was tucked in the driveway. A house where the paps were huddled like flies on shit.
My parent's house.