From the Desk of L. Ann

It's a writer's life

[l-ann-blog1]

I posted about the demon tree last year... Probably around this time, in fact. I guess he only shows at certain times. This year I seem to have caught him on the move. Or I'm seeing things... Can you see his legs, hooves, eys, horns and arms? He's staring straight at me. #indieauthorsofinstagram #writersimagination #amwriting #demontree https://www.instagram.com/p/BrDYlyBjVI2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=dn25xl1108hx

[l-ann-blog1]

Took the kids for a walk in the local woods yesterday. Discovered this. We spent some time debating who built it and why. I opted for the local wolf pack. Watch for this place in my shifter series 😂 #strangeplaces #amwriting #indieauthorofinstagram #instagramwriters #inspirations #paranormalromance #wolfshifter #wip

[l-ann-blog1]

Took the kids for a walk in the local woods yesterday. Discovered this. We spent some time debating who built it and why. I opted for the local wolf pack. Watch for this place in my shifter series 😂

[l-ann-blog1]

Cats seen to have this inner alarm that tells them when you are trying to write. My cat is not a cuddle, he hates people.. Except when I'm writing, then he's all in. #writerscommunity #catsandwriters #amwriting

[l-ann-blog1]

Back to work! It's a hard life being a writer 😂 #indieauthorsofinstagram #shifterromance #midnightpack #amwriting #paranormalromance #booknerdigans

[l-ann-blog1]

Sexy new notebooks for my sexy new shifter story #stationeryaddict #indieauthorofinstagram #booknerdigans #bookstagram #paranormalromance

[l-ann-blog1]

Teaser Tuesday

It's Tuesday . . . you know what that means, don't you? It's time to tease you with something cooking in our WIP. As always, this is a draft, unedited and prone to change or even removal from the final release. Let's see what you make of this! Morgan took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the restaurant. You can do this! She stepped inside and paused to scan the dimly lit room. There! She spotted David as he half-rose to his feet to catch her attention and Morgan headed over to his table. “You came!” David smiled, stood and moved around to pull out the chair for her. “I wasn’t sure you would.” “I wasn’t sure, either,” Morgan admitted, and settled onto the seat. She forced herself not to tense while he was behind her or glance over her shoulder to check his location. “You look beautiful,” he told her as he returned to his own seat. “Thank you.” The compliment eased her tension a little. She had made an effort, picking out clothes she wouldn’t normally wear – a red dress that moulded itself to her body like a second skin, spaghetti straps leaving her arms bare, and the hem ending at mid thigh. She’s paired the dress with a pair of heeled shoes in a matching colour. Her hair was down, out of its customary pony-tail, falling almost to her waist, inky black and straight. She’d taken time over her make-up – something she rarely did  - and a matching set of platinum earrings, bangles and necklace finished the look. “You look very nice, too.” She tried to put as much warmth into the words as she could. He did look good. An expensive suit covered a well-maintained physique. His dark hair was cut short, he was clean-shaven and she could smell the cologne he was wearing. A nice subtle blend that didn’t have her eyes tearing up. She picked up the menu and studied it. “Have you decided what you want?” she asked him. “I have. Shall I order for both of us?” Morgan resisted the urge to tell him she could pick her own food, and nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.” David ordered food – Morgan didn’t hear what - and a bottle of wine and they sat in awkward silence. “You’re uncomfortable.” David finally spoke up, and Morgan lifted her eyes to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to . . . doing this.” “This? Having dinner?” “I don’t really socialise all that much.” She cast her eyes around the restaurant and froze, her gaze landing on the back of a dark-blonde head. “I – I’m just going to Ladies Room to freshen up before our food arrives,” she said, and rose to her feet abruptly. Inside the bathroom, Morgan checked to make sure no one else was in there then leaned against the countertop. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath. “You can do this,” she told herself. “You can have dinner, be good company and act normal.” “No, you can’t.” The unexpected response coincided with two hands landing on her hips. Eyes flying open, they collided with the reflection of piercing blue ones. “Taz!” His name left her lips in a shocked whisper. “What are you doing, Anna?” He stepped closer, the hands on her hips tightening their hold. Morgan could feel the warmth radiating from his body down her back and her own body responded to his closeness immediately. Heat pooled between her thighs, her nipples beaded and her breathing quickened. She saw Taz smile in the mirror and his head lowered, eyes never wavering from hers. He placed a kiss on her throat, right over her racing pulse. “What are you doing Anna?” he repeated his question, softly. “I’ve given you space, given you time. You need to come home.” “I can’t go home.” Morgan’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Why not?” She could feel the roughness of his stubble against her skin as he kissed his way up her throat. She let her eyes slide closed and sighed. “Because you’re not there.” Taz didn’t reply, and between one breath and the next she felt the warmth of him disappear. Opening her eyes, she found herself alone in the bathroom. “You’re going crazy,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. Well now.... I see this one raising some questions, don't you? Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Midnight Touch - Part Nine

Shaun

I purposely arrive an hour late to the bar. Arriving dead on eight would have given the wrong impression – that I was interested, even eager, to spend time with Cassie. The last thing I need right now is an emotional entanglement. That’s not why I’m here. Problem is I’m not sure whether the wrong impression would have been given to Cassie or to myself. Cassie is cute, she makes me laugh, and the afternoon I’d spent with her helped me forget the reasons I’d left the city, for a little while anyway. But here I am – outside The Corner Pin, just before nine. From the noise spilling out through the door, karaoke night is in full swing. I wince as a female voice aims for a particularly high note and fails miserably, then push the door open and enter. A quick scan of the dim interior and I locate Cassie sitting near the bar with her sister and I head over to them. As I get close, I see Cassie look toward the other end of the bar and there’s a fleeting expression on her face that suggests she’s upset. I follow the direction of her gaze and see her ex and her roommate standing close together. I take the final step needed to bring me close to her and stoop slightly to whisper. “Staring is only going to make him think you’ll take him back.” Her head snaps around so fast, I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. I lean past her, catch the bartender’s attention and order two bottles of beer, then take a long drink. I don’t know why I let her put my name down for a karaoke song. I could say it was because of the look in her eyes whenever she caught sight of her ex. I do know it’s a stupid thing to do when I’m supposed to be cruising under the radar, but the enjoyment she gets out of picking out a song then refusing to tell me what it is amuses me. When my name is called and I find out what she’s picked, I can’t hide my grin. Especially when I spot the battered piano just to the right of the stage. I know she’s expecting me to fail, and if I let the song play through the karaoke machine it would hide most of the problems a less-talented singer would have with it. But I have a good voice. Actually, I have a great voice and, no that’s not me being overly arrogant. It’s the simple truth. People look at me and see the tattoos and long hair. Then they hear I’m the vocalist of a rock band and they make assumptions. The most popular one being that I cannot sing. I like proving people wrong. I jump off the stage and grab Cassie’s hand to drag her across to the piano with me. She’s looking at me like I’m crazy and I am looking forward to seeing that look change. If she had any clue who I was, if she recognised me, there’s no way in hell she’d be expecting this to go as badly as her face suggests. I fiddle with the mic, positioning it on top of the piano so that it will pick up both my voice and the piano, then hit a few of the keys. Then I start to play. I throw Cassie one final smile and open my mouth to sing. The familiar buzz of performing before an audience embraces me like an old friend. The feeling of satisfaction as people stop what they’re doing and take notice. When faces turn to watch, their drinks and games forgotten as the music washes over them. I fall into the role of entertainer, my fingers finding the keys while my voice takes the crowd on a journey through the song. When I hit the final note and the piano is silenced, I turn my head to look at Cassie. She’s staring at me, her eyes wide with genuine surprise, her lips parted and I just can’t help myself. I lift a hand, meaning to brush a finger against her cheek but find myself cupping her face instead and stealing a kiss. I feel her hand land on my leg, just above my knee, but she doesn’t pull her lips from mine. I take that as a green light and deepen the kiss, my tongue swiping across her bottom lip once, twice until she opens wide enough to let me in. I can taste the beer she’s been drinking, but beneath that there’s a sweeter flavour. It reminds me of strawberries, both sweet and tart. A little like the woman herself. The woman whose fingers are currently digging into my thigh, kneading and flexing as our kiss continued. I was considering scooping her up and taking her somewhere private when a voice intruded. “You’re Shaun Jacobs, aren’t you? What are you doing here in Greene Valley?” Cassie stiffens and I sigh against her lips before lifting my head to find the person who spoke. I rest my hand on top of Cassie’s, effectively stopping her from removing it, while I answer the question. “I’m on vacation.” “Wait!” Cassie’s sister pushes her way toward us. “I knew you looked familiar! Don’t you remember, Cass?” She turns her attention to Cassie. “He was all over the news a few months back.” I should have expected someone to recognise me, but it doesn’t stop the sharp disappointment I feel when  Cassie pulls her hand free and stands up. I probably shouldn’t have got up to sing, I acknowledge to myself. It was never going to end well. Cassie is rubbing her bottom lip with the tip of a finger and, now that I know what she tastes like, I can’t help but want to replace her finger with my mouth again. She’s staring at me, eyes narrowed as she processes what her sister is telling her. I say nothing, sitting still on the piano’s bench. I idly tap out a tune while the crowd argues around me over my identity. This kind of attention I’m used to, I can tune it out easily enough. My attention appears to be focused on the piano, but I’m aware of every move Cassie is making beside me. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I know the moment she comes to a decision and tip my head back to look at her. “Is it true?” she asks me. I ignore the feeling of regret at her question and pull the role of the Shaun Jacobs Rockstar around me. “Which part?” “Any of it.” I’m still picking out a tune and she settles back beside me on the bench.  “Shaun?” “I’m definitely Shaun Jacobs and I’m vacationing in Greene Valley,” I throw her a cool smile. “And yes, I have been in the news.” I pause, pursing my lips. “I’m in the news a lot, actually. Probably more than I should be.” She bites her bottom lip and the action makes me want to bite it, which angers me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I stop playing and arch a brow, needing to get control of the sudden desire I have for her. “Why would I? You broke into my home, remember. I assumed you knew exactly who I was.” “Is that why you kissed me?” Her fingers are toying with her lip again and I push myself to my feet before I’m tempted to kiss her again. “No, Goldilocks,” I tell her. “I kissed you because I’m the big bad wolf and you needed a warning to stay out of the woods.” I stalk toward the doors, but her voice stops me. “Goldilocks was in the Three Bears. The big bad wolf was in Red Riding Hood.” I swing back to face her, and I’m unsure whether I should laugh or say something cutting. The expression on her face keeps me silent, though, and I turn back to leave. “I might buy a red cloak for the next time I feel like walking in the woods.” Her final words follow me as I walk out of the door. © 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Midnight Touch - Part Eight

Apologies for there being no episode posted on Wednesday - to make up for that, there will be two posted today. One now and the second a little later this evening.  Without further ado... let's continue on!

Cassie

It’s almost nine. The karaoke started an hour ago. I’m sitting near the bar with my sister, nursing a bottle of beer and wondering if he’ll show up. The last three days have been exhausting. Sam keeps ringing me at all hours, demanding I listen to his side of the story. Rebekah, my roommate, has turned up at Andi’s house twice, begging to see me. I’m just not ready to hear from either of them, but neither will listen when I ask them to give me time, space to think. It had been Andi’s suggestion to come out tonight and I’d used that excuse as a reason to head back to the Lodge, to see Shaun again. We had only spent a couple of hours together, but there was something about him, something that calmed my frazzled nerves. He’d been kind to me, a stranger who had turned up in his home. Instead of demanding I leave, he’d realised I needed a distraction and had offered his time. My eyes shift to the door again. Did he agree to come just to get me out of his home? “Cassie,” Andi nudges me and nods toward the other end of the bar. Sam is standing there with Rebekah, their heads close together as they talk. Sam looks angry and Rebekah is standing stiffly beside him, clearly unhappy. I shouldn’t care, but I do. “Staring is only going to make him think you’ll take him back.” The voice, close to my ear, is deep, husky and definitely amused. I twist my head around and come face to face with Shaun. He’s leaning forward, his face level with mine. He’s so close, I can feel his breath on my cheek and smell his cologne – which, I have to admit, is very nice. Not too strong or overpowering – an interesting blend that makes me want to shift closer. He catches the bartender’s attention and points at my bottle, then raises two fingers in some kind of universal bar sign-language that I can never make work. Two bottles of beer arrive shortly after and Shaun pays. He sits on the stool next to me and twists around so he’s facing me. His fingers curl around the bottle of beer and he takes a long drink. I can’t help but watch his throat move as he swallows and I lick suddenly dry lips. “What song did you put your name down for?” he asks, as he places the bottle back on the bar. “Me? Oh hell no, I don’t sing. I just come to laugh at everyone else.” Shaun laughs. “One of the cruel types who sits in the corner and mocks everyone around them, are you?” I pretend to consider his description, then nod. “That’s exactly right.” “Will you make fun of me if I get up and sing?” “Can you sing?” He looks surprised by my question, almost like I should know the answer to that already, then the expression has gone and his easy smile is back. “I can hold a note,” he replies, takes another pull of beer then nods toward the stage. “Want to pick a song for me?” “Anything I want?” He shrugs. “Sure.” I don’t give him a chance to reconsider. I hop down from the stool and almost run over to the stage and start flicking through the song list. At first, I think about picking something silly, one that would be embarrassing to sing, but the longer I stand looking the more I think about how good he’d been to me, so I look for something I think he might be able to sing. My eyes fall upon a song and I smile and write his name next to it. His eyebrow quirks up when I return to the bar. “Find one?” I nod. “Should I worry?” “That depends on if you can sing like you claim.” He snorts a laugh and takes another drink. “Why did you invite me tonight?” I watch as he leans back against the bar, his elbows resting on the bartop and his bottle held loosely between fingertips. Why did I invite him? It’s a fair question and, in truth, I don’t really have a good answer for it. I take a drink from my own bottle. “Nothing? No answer? Not even a lie?” he says, when I don’t reply. “Did you hope it’d make Sam over there jealous?” I choke on my beer. That hadn’t even crossed my mind. “No!” I gasp out. “I just thought . . . I thought maybe . . . Look, I don’t know! It just seemed like a good idea, okay?” He gazes at me for a long silent minute, eyes assessing. He straightens suddenly. “You should, you know.” “Should what?” It’s hard to keep up with his rapid topic changes. “Prove to him what he’s done doesn’t matter. He keeps looking over here, you know. Probably wondering who I am and why I’m talking to you.” His smile is the only warning I get before he’s reaching over to grab my hand and pull me off my stool to stand between his legs. I look at him quizzically. I can feel his thumb rubbing across the sensitive skin of my inner wrist and I can’t contain a shiver. His smile widens and he tugs my hand again until I’m closer, almost pressed against his chest. His head moves forward until his mouth is mere centimetres from mine. Is he going to kiss me? I can feel my heartbeat speeding up at the thought. “What song did you pick for me?” he whispers, and I blink, surprised by the question. I’m saved from replying by the guy in charge of the karaoke calling out Shaun’s name. He still has hold of my hand as he rises to his feet, bringing him flush against me. He tips his head down and I find myself holding my breath as his face comes closer. “Guess I’m about to find out.” He murmurs and walks toward the stage. I follow him and stand in front of the stage as he looks to see what song I’ve picked. A smile pulls his lips up and he approaches the mic, lifting it up and fiddling with its placement, then looks directly at me and winks. “I don’t need the music playing for this one,” he says to the guy in charge of the machine. “I’ll take the mic over to the piano there.” He disconnects the mic from the stand and strides over to the old battered piano in the corner, catching my hand and pulling me along with him as he goes. “Sit next to me,” he invites and pats the long bench seat, waits for me to settle then places the mic on top of the piano and rests his fingers on the keys.  “Ready?” he asks me. I nod and he starts to play the opening to This is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco, leans forward and starts to sing. My jaw drops and after no more than a few lines, the bar has fallen silent. Everyone stops what they’re doing – talking, playing pool, darts, drinking – and turns toward where he and I sit at the piano. His voice . . . oh my god . . . his voice! As smooth as caramel, it soars through the notes effortlessly. The atmosphere in the bar has changed from amused resignation as people wail through various songs to an electric anticipation as he pauses between verses, then launches into the chorus a final time. As the sounds of the piano fade into silence, nobody moves. Everyone is frozen in place, staring at him and that’s when he surprises me again. He turns slightly on the seat, lifts a hand to cup the side of my face and covers my lips with his. For anyone curious - this is the song Shaun is singing. Tune in on later for Part Nine © 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Snippet Sunday

This week's Snippet Sunday is a scene from the first book of our Dark Legacy series - Bonded in Blood. You can buy a copy here or read it for FREE in KindleUnlimited. “Well, that worked out better than I expected.” Morgan broke the silence as they entered Shadowfall. “And your girlfriend survived.” “She’s not my girlfriend,” Taz’s denial was immediate. “What then? Your fuckbuddy?” Morgan’s laugh was brittle. “Call it what you will. You’re sleeping with her.” “You jealous?” Taz countered. “No. Were you sleeping with her when you came to Vegas?” “Hadn’t even met her,” Taz grinned. “You are jealous.” “What have I got to be jealous about?” Morgan asked. “It was a weekend, not a declaration of eternal devotion.” “It could have been more than a weekend if you hadn’t shot me.” “Yeah, right,” Morgan laughed. “What happens in Vegas…” “Stays in Vegas – yes, I know the saying. Doesn’t make it true though.” Morgan shook her head. “I’m not talking about this anymore.” Taz smiled, pushing the button to call the elevator. “So, you accept that there is a this to talk about?” “No,” Morgan disagreed. “I’m saying you’re talking rubbish.” Taz gave her a sidelong glance. “So, if I suggested we go back to my suite, take all our clothes off and roll around naked together – you’re telling me that wouldn’t tempt you?” She scowled, ignoring the sudden heat that flooded her. “Absolutely not!” Taz spun on his heel and leant forward until his lips were against her ear. “Liar,” he whispered, then continued the move which took him past her and into the waiting elevator car. Morgan followed him more slowly, taking up position at the opposite side of the compartment, her arms folded across her chest. “I’m not lying.” “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?” Taz smirked, pushing the button to take them up to his floor. “Convincing you doesn’t matter, does it?” As soon as the words left her mouth and Taz’s smirk became a full-blown smile, Morgan knew she’d made a mistake. “I meant that I don’t care whether you think I’m lying or not.” A definite lie. Her heartbeat had sped up by a good five beats per minute since they had entered the elevator. And her scent . . . GOD . . . so strong he could almost chew it. More than likely involuntary, but it was sending a very clear message to Taz. She wants me – no doubt about it. And I want her. No use trying to deny it. It’d been all he could do to keep his hands off her since she first showed up in Shadowfall. And that bothered him. Confused the hell out of him. She was a gorgeous woman, yes. But still, just a woman. One he’d already bedded. He rarely – very rarely – had any residual yearnings for any woman after the first dance between the sheets. It was always ‘been there, had that, what’s next?’. But this one – this one touched him in a way; in a place; none of the others had ever reached before. “Why did you sleep with me in Vegas?” His complete change of direction made Morgan blink. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m not sure it was.” “So, let me get this clear in my head. You decided, out of the blue, upon sight of me, that I’d be a great first lay?” He watched with some fascination as Morgan went scarlet. “That wasn’t how it was!” she denied. “How was it then?” He arched an eyebrow. “I would like to know. I’ve gone over that weekend in my head a million times and I can’t see why you felt the need to shoot me.” “Why does everything have to be about you?” “Because it was me who took the bullet?” He pushed himself away from the wall and took the three steps needed to stand right in front of her. “We had a good time. Hell, it was better than good. You wanted me as much as I wanted you. And then you fucking shot me!” “I will shoot you again if you don’t back off.” There was a thread of warning in her voice. “Tell me you don’t think about that weekend. That you haven’t once wondered what could have happened if we’d followed it through.” “I don’t think about it,” Morgan repeated his words flatly. “You are,” Taz planted his hands either side of her head and bent forward so their eyes were level, “a liar.” “I am not lying,” she hissed in return. “Then why do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. “I don’t!” “No?” Taz lowered his gaze, knowing hers would follow, to where her hands had risen of their own accord and were clutching at the lapels of his jacket. He timed his next move to perfection – waiting until Morgan’s eyes lifted to meet his - he smiled at her look of startled confusion and dipped his head to capture her lips. Morgan’s first instinct was to fight and, had Taz attempted to hold her in place in any way she would have, but he touched her with nothing other than his mouth and even that was featherlight, easy to break away from, and she found herself straining forwards instead, chasing his lips with her own and it was her hands that gripped the material beneath her fingers tightly and hauled him closer. “You know –“ an amused masculine voice brought them back to their senses, and they separated abruptly. “That’s why the emergency stop got invented.”

Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Teaser Tuesday

For Teaser Tuesday this week, I'm sharing a draft of a scene from the next Dark Legacy book - provisionally titled Bad Blood (likely to change). As always, this is unedited, unproofed and may or may not make it into the final book. ~*~ Morgan lifted her empty glass and waved it at the bartender. “Just leave the bottle,” she told him when he topped it up and turned to leave. She slid a hundred dollar bill over the bar to him. “Keep the change.” “Yes, ma’am!” With a grin, he rang up the cost on the till and pocketed the remainder while Morgan curled a hand around the bottle’s neck and drew it closer. “You shouldn’t be sitting here alone.” Morgan turned her head just as the redheaded young vampire slid onto the stool beside her and she lifted her glass in greeting. “I see Fallon’s been shopping again.” Rowan laughed and smoothed a hand down over the scarlet dress she wore. “He bought this in Monte Carlo last week. He claims I needed it.” She paused to smile at the bartender. “Can I have a glass, please? I’ll share what my friend is drinking.” Morgan snorted. “You want some of this, buy your own.” “Well that’s not very friendly, is it?” “Haven’t you heard? I’m not very friendly.” She refilled her glass, drained it and filled it again. “Does Fallon know you’re here?” “Koo’s with me. She’s just parking the car.” Morgan turned slowly on the stool. “Do I look like someone who enjoys girly nights out? Do I need to –” She broke off when a tall male approached them. “Ladies,” he smiled expansively. “How about a little company?” Morgan sighed. “How about no?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Let me persuade you otherwise, honey.” “I’m not your honey,” she lifted her glass and took a swallow. “You have three seconds to remove your hand before I break it.” Morgan cast a sidelong glance at Rowan. “You should probably leave. Fallon won’t like you being caught up in this.” Her gaze moved to where the man was reflected in the mirror behind the bar. “One. “Come on, honey,” his hand tightened its grip. “We could have a real good time.” “I’m about to have a great time. Two.” Morgan placed her glass down onto the bartop. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Three.” As she spoke, she lifted her hand, gripped his wrist and twisted. The man yelped as he found himself driven to his knees with Morgan standing over him. “Morgan, I don’t think –” Rowan began, her eyes darting around the now-silent bar. “Go home, Rowan.” Morgan jerked her arm and there was a sickening snap as the man’s wrist broke. He howled. Morgan released her grip and shoved him backwards, her lip curling. “Oh stop snivelling. If you don’t want to get hurt, don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” “Morgan, we need to leave,” Rowan whispered. Morgan looked at the redhead. “I’ve told you to leave twice already.” She straightened and faced the men slowly rising to their feet. “Now you’ll just have to stay out of the way until I’m done.” She advanced a step and smiled. “Who’s next?” The ensuing fight was short and brutal. At first, the bikers had come at Morgan one by one, but as they saw how their brothers fell at the petite brunette’s feet, they surged forward en-masse. Morgan checked to see where Rowan was standing then threw herself headlong into the battle. © 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Midnight Touch - Part Seven

Shaun

Cassie’s sister is looking at me with a mixture of suspicion and appreciation which, believe it or not, is something I get a lot. I’m so used to that reaction, in fact, that it generates an automatic response. “Rockstar mode” kicks in. I flash her a smile, designed to win her over, while reaching for her hand. I can feel Cassie frowning at me as I raise her sister’s hand to my lips and press a kiss to it. “Andi,” she says, and there’s a tone to her voice that makes me look at her. “This is –“ “Shaun,” I supply my name, squeeze her sister’s hand and let it drop. “Cassie dropped by the Lodge earlier, so I gave her lift back.” Both women are staring at me now and, I have to admit, I kinda feel like I’m a slab of prime steak waiting to be cooked and eaten.  My eyes swing from one to the other and I keep my grin firmly in place. “And now she’s arrived safely, it’s time I got on with my day.” I turn to head back to my car when Cassie’s voice stops me. “Wait!” I pause and lift an eyebrow in query. “Thank you, again.” “That’s okay, Goldilocks,” I reach out and tug a lock of hair that’s come loose from her ponytail. “You’re more than welcome to break into my bedroom anytime you like.” I hear the sharp intake of breath from Cassie’s sister and my grin widens as I stride back to my car. The rest of my day passes without any excitement. I stop at the grocery store and buy supplies, then head back to the Lodge where I spend the evening working on a song that’s been on my mind. I take a call from DJ just before midnight and entertain him with the events of the day, then hit the sack around 3 AM. ~*~ It’s been three days since my “intruder incident”. I’ve spent most of it writing songs and talking DJ out of flying down to keep me company. He doesn’t like the fact I’m here alone, he thinks I’m going to relapse. I may have also spent way too much time thinking about my intruder and what her asshole ex has been doing. I’m sitting in the lounge playing my guitar when I hear a car pull up outside. I prop my guitar against the couch and rise to my feet. I reach the door just as someone knocks on it. I pull it open and come face to face with the girl I’ve been thinking about. She’s dressed in jeans again, a pair of white sneakers on her feet instead of those godawful flat pumps and a black t-shirt that reads “Dear Morning. I hate you. Bye!” I snort and lift my eyes to meet hers. There are dark shadows beneath them and she looks tired. “Get lost on your way to the library?” I opt for the flippant approach and step to one side to allow her to walk past me. She accepts my unspoken invitation and heads inside, waving a paper bag at me. “I know I apologised for the other day, but I felt like I needed to do more.” I follow her into the kitchen and watch as she pulls a bottle of tequila out of the bag and places it on the countertop. “So . . . you what? Thought you’d get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?” I lean against the doorframe. “For future reference, I’m easy.” She chuckles. “I was going to buy you a bottle of whiskey, but something tells me you’d appreciate a good bottle of Tequila.” “Goldilocks, if it’s got alcohol in it, I’ll appreciate it.” I glance at my watch. “It’s got to be 5 o’clock somewhere.” I open a cupboard and pull out two shot glasses. “I can’t stop. I just wanted to drop off the bottle and –“ she hesitates, waits while I reach for the bottle, open it and pour the clear liquid into the glasses. “And?” I prompt, lifting the glass and knocking back the Tequila. “I heard you’ve been up here a couple of weeks and the other day was the first time you headed into town.” “So?” I tap the other glass. “You gonna drink that?” She shakes her head so I down that shot, too. The burn feels good. “So . . . it’s Friday night. Karaoke at the local bar. I thought if you’ve got nothing else to do . . . “ she leaves the sentence hanging. “Karaoke,” I repeat. “You’re inviting me to a Karaoke?” “Forget it!” She pushes past me and heads back toward the front door. “Hang on,” I catch her arm as she goes and pull her to a stop. I study her as she glares back at me. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks and I realise I embarrassed her with the way I reacted. Not everyone has an ulterior motive, I remind myself. “You just surprised me.” She pulls her arm free from my hold and turns to leave. “What time and where?” I hear myself ask. Cassie half-turns to face me. “You’ll come?” “Sure. It sounds like fun.” It actually sounds like my personal version of hell, but my response makes her smile and I like how that feels. “Great! It starts at eight, at the Corner Pin.” I give her a smile. “I’ll be there.” And, with a jaunty wave, she’s gone again. Tune in on Wednesday for Part Eight © 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Midnight Touch - Part Six

Cassie

“What did she say to you?” I ask him as we head down the stairs to the front door. He glances back at me and shrugs. “The usual ‘I know who you are’ speech.” I don’t know why that makes me frown, but it does. “And does she?” “Know who I am? Sure . . . I mean, it’s not hard to figure out. I’m probably the only new face in town.” He drops the suitcase he’d insisted on carrying to the floor and waits for me. “Let me go out first and make sure your ex isn’t waiting.” “What if he is?” His smile is a quick baring of teeth. “Oh Goldilocks, I really do hope he is.” I swear he’s disappointed when he opens the door and Sam isn’t there. We head back to his car and he throws the suitcase on the back seat before opening the passenger door and waiting for me to get in. Once he’s settled into the driver seat, he glances over at me. “Where are we heading?” I give him directions to my sister’s house and he pulls away from the kerb. I watch him covertly as he drives. None of the men in my life, except for my dad possibly, would have taken my unexpected appearance in their life as easily as he has. From the moment I showed up in his bedroom, he’s had this air of amusement around him, like he finds me entertaining. For a second, I feel like that should be insulting, but it’s not. I like how he’s dealing with it. He doesn’t speak, and strangely that doesn’t bother me. The silence feels comfortable and I don’t feel obliged to make conversation. He’s looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road and I can’t help but admire him. He has one hand curved around the wheel, the other arm is propped on the door, elbow resting in the gap where the window would be if it was closed. My eyes fall to the tattoos covering his arms, again, and the memory of how they also cover one side of his torso flashes before my eyes. I want to paint him. It’s been so long since I’d last painted anything. While Sam had never said anything outright, I knew he hadn’t liked that side of me and I’d tried to tone it down. I’d taken a job at the local bank, and packed away my art supplies. ‘Finally joined the adult world’, Sam had told his friends. “This the place?” His words broke through my reverie and I blinked. “Yes,” I confirm. He parks and climbs out. I wait where I am, knowing he’ll come and open the door. Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly capable of getting out of the car myself, but it seems to be an ingrained response for him and, I have to admit, it’s kinda nice. When he opens the door, he catches me grinning and cocks an eyebrow in query. I shake my head, take his offered hand and let him help me out of the car. “It’s nothing,” I say once I’m standing beside him. “It’s just cute how you keep opening doors for me.” He laughs. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t.” A shrug follows his words and he reaches into the backseat and hauls out my case. “Don’t get me wrong, I can be a complete and utter asshole when the mood takes me.” His grin flashes on and off quickly. “And have been many times.” Without thinking about it, I place a hand on his arm, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. “Well, you had every reason to be an asshole to me and you haven’t.” I feel his forearm flex beneath my fingers. “Aww Goldilocks,” he drawls. “You’re gonna make me blush.” I pull back and punch his shoulder, then yelp at the impact. Eyes dancing, he captures my hand between his and raises it to his lips. “Let me kiss that better for you.” His lips brush over each of my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. A frisson of electricity shoots through me at his touch and I tug my hand away. “I’ll go make sure Andi is home,” I blurt and almost run up her path. His laughter follows me. The door opens before I reach it and my sister is framed in the doorway. The moment I see her, I feel tears form in my eyes and my throat closes up. Spending the last couple of hours with . . . I still haven’t asked him his name . . . anyway, the last few hours has kept my thoughts about why I’d ran to the Lodge in the first place at bay, but as soon as I see Andi, it all comes rushing back to me. She takes one look at my face, her arms open and she rushes forward. “What did that bastard do now?” she demands. I feel her stiffen against me, and her tone of voice changes to one of awe. “And who the hell is he?” The chuckle behind me tells me my unnamed driver has caught up to us. Tune in on Sunday for Part Seven © 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

Grab this right now. You need Nick in your life #Repost @emmajaynemillsauthor (@get_repost) ・・・ ...he paused to examine the stacked row of bracelets and leather cuffs I wore on my wrists. “They hide the scars. From the chains , when he kept me in the cellar. The others, from the knife have faded mostly, but those ones are going nowhere." 🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝 #EducatingCallie #SecretsofFrostFord #romanticthriller #teasertuesday #booknerdigans #bookstagram #summerreading #indieauthor 🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝🖤🗝 Available now on Amazon FREE in KU

[l-ann-blog1]

Joss please!!! #Repost @emmajaynemillsauthor (@get_repost) ・・・ 💕Jet and Raine's story is complete and has been given its title over on the blog. Did they get their happy ending? Find out through the link in my bio. 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼 Now it's your turn, which brother do you want to hear from next? You've got three to choose from. Strong & reliable but broken Jesse. 💔 Dark and mysterious Joel. 📚 Or balshy in your face bad boy Joss.🏄‍♂️ You can let me know here, on the blog or on fb until Wednesday. #Balconies #Wildflower #freereading #indieauthorsofinstagram #booknerdigans #bookstagram #ContemporaryRomance #romcom #militaryromance

[l-ann-blog1]

Midnight Touch - Part Five

Shaun

I don’t answer her straight away. I could give her a hundred ways to change how the story she’s involved in can play out, but I get the feeling at least ninety-nine of them would result in her punching me. So, instead, I smile at her then turn my head to watch the guy . . . Sam . . . cross the street, and head in our direction. I reckon we have less than two minutes before he’s going to reach us. “Are you going to stay in your place or do you have somewhere else to go?” I ask her. “I can stay at my sister's,” she replies. She’s also watching Sam’s rapid approach. “I need to get some stuff from the apartment first though.” “How far from here is it?” “It’s right there,” she points to the row of windows above the grocery store. “I live above the store.” “Okay. I’ll come up with you while you pack and take you to your sisters,” I decide on the course of action even as I speak. “What are you going to do about him?” I incline my head toward Sam, who’s almost at the car. “I’m going to ignore him.” The prim tone in her voice makes me laugh as I unbuckle my seatbelt and hop out of the car. In a few quick strides, I’m at the passenger door and have it open before she’s even untangled herself from her own belt. Reaching into the car I unclip the belt for her and hold out a hand, offering to help her out. When she looks up at me, a question in her eyes, I smile. “It’s all about changing the narrative, remember.” Her look changes to one of determination and she grasps my hand and exits the car. “Cassie!” The guy – Sam – calls from behind us. At least I know her name now, something I probably should have found out earlier, but never mind. Cassie ignores him, continuing on a steady path toward the door just to the left of the grocery store’s entrance. I keep myself between her and Sam, angling my stance so that when she pauses to unlock the door, he can’t get to her. We go inside and I kick the door shut behind me, hopefully in his face. I follow Cassie up a flight of stairs, then another pause while she unlocks the second door and we enter the apartment. “Make yourself at home,” she tells me, waving a hand toward a couch that has definitely seen better days. It’s clean enough and covered with a bright yellow throw but it looks like if I sat on it it’d break under my weight, so I follow her and lean against the doorframe of what, I assume, is her bedroom. Her bedroom is an explosion of colour. I honestly have no way to describe it other than to say it looks like someone grabbed the brightest paint they could find and just threw it at the walls. There are yellows, greens, reds and blues everywhere. My eyes shift to Cassie who is standing in front of the dresser. The drab outfit she’s wearing doesn’t match the insanity of her bedroom. “Were you high when you decorated?” I ask, and she jumps. “I thought you were in the living room,” she says, spinning round and I shrug. “You were in my bedroom, only thought it was fair I get to see yours.” “I said I was sorry!” I hear the front door open and turn my head slightly to see another woman enter. This one’s a brunette, probably the roommate. From the look on Cassie’s face, she heard her too. “Goldilocks,” I raise my voice to make sure the newcomer hears me. “You were standing there eyefucking me, there’s no way you’re sorry.” Yeah, I’m an asshole, but if it works it works. “I was looking at your tattoos!” She gapes at me. “Sure . . . sure . . . that’s what they all say. Do you have any tattoos? Think it’s only fair you show me.”  I wink and her eyes slide over my shoulder. I’m pretty sure her roommate is standing behind me. “I only saw them because you came out of the bathroom naked, not even a towel around your waist,” she chides me, and I grin at her. “You’re welcome.” “Oh my god, get out!” She slings a pillow at me and I laugh, catching it. “Fine, I’ll wait out here. But I want to see those tattoos! Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer me.” I back out of the room and close the door, then turn to face the roommate. She’s standing in the centre of the living room, her lips turned down and eyes narrowed at me. She’s pretty enough, but there’s a pinched look around her mouth that I don’t like. “Hi,” I keep my voice casual and head over to the danger-couch, easing down onto it gingerly. “I know you.” Well, okay then. Gonna be like that, is it? “I get that a lot,” I tell her. She turns to the coffee table, rummages around amongst the magazines, then opens one and throws it onto my lap. “Like I said, I know you.” I look down at the picture of me and DJ. The photo had caught us as we were both leaving the hospital. I actually look sober, so that’s something. DJ looks tired and his arm is thrown across my shoulders. I remember the day that picture was taken. It was two months into rehab, after my collapse. DJ had got the nurses to agree to let me out for the day. “What would the papers say if I told them you were in town?” Her voice drags me out of my memories and I glance up at her with a smile. “Not as much as they’d say when I told them how I was helping out a friend whose roommate had fucked her boyfriend on the kitchen table while she was at work.” I make a point of tapping the picture of me in the magazine. “These things love a ‘bad boy does good’ story.” I lean back, draping my arms across the back of the couch. “And, more to the point, these magazines love me. So, if you want to contact them, be my guest. Just remember when the shit hits the fan, you started it.” We’re trading glares in silence when Cassie returns. She glances at me, then at her roommate, then back at me. “I’m ready,” she tells me. “Cassie,” her roommate moves to block her path. “We need to talk.” “There’s nothing you can say to me that will fix what you did,” Cassie responds. Her eyes catch mine. “Are you coming?” “Not yet,” I remark, “but the day’s not over yet.” The roommate glares at me again but Cassie… man, she just shakes her head at me and laughs and that’s when I notice she’s changed her clothes. She no longer looks like a librarian. Now she looks like a girl who wouldn’t be out of place at one of my concerts. Skin-tight jeans and a t-shirt that moulds itself to her curves . . . and, oh boy, those curves are a wet dream just waiting to happen. I’m suddenly really glad she broke into my home. Does that make me shallow? So shoot me, I don’t give a fuck.

Tune in on Wednesday for Part Six

© 2018 No part of this may be copied without prior permission from the author.  Read the full article

[l-ann-blog1]

This one comes with a "trigger" warning 😂 ... Trust me you'll LOVE it! #Repost @emmajaynemillsauthor (@get_repost) ・・・ Drumroll please... Jet and Raine's finale is LIVE on the blog now! Click the link in my bio to find out how their story ends. Or is it just the beginning? 💕☮ Don't forget to let me know (either here, on the blog or Facebook) which brother you want to hear from next. #Balconies #romcom #militaryromance #freeread #indieauthorsofinstagram #bookstagram #booknerdigans #teaser #saturdayshorties #weekendreads