Friday, 31 October 2014

The Dead, The Damned and the Darkness



Happy Halloween! Holidays equals presents and presents equal... Well a re-release but I'm glad it's back out in the world. On the most spooky day of the year, let the dead rise again!

Shibah's Monster on Amazon

Dr. Blurb

Dr. Shibah Kusi is a woman who lives by the rules of science. There isn’t anything that can't be explained or rationalised by what she’s learned in her work as a pathologist. It’s kept her grounded and it has kept her sane. Until one night, in the depths of the mortuary, she comes face to face with the dead body of her childhood crush, Marek Kaszynski. All she wants at that moment, seeing the man she’d always been in love with dead, is to bring him back to life. Change their future to reflect the promise of their history. 

At just past midnight, everything she wants will rise from the jaws of death. And in spite of everything she’s learned and everything she knows, Shibah will do anything to protect Marek. Whatever the cost...


Dr. Excerpt

Shibah was past wide awake. This was a state of complete chemical alteration, with Marek’s unrelenting erection pressing between her thighs. She wanted to blame her wet underwear on the shower, but this was a metronome of sexual need counting down to how long it would take for her to succumb. Get up, get up, get up five minutes ago, get up!

This couldn’t be good for his circulation. It took a good fifteen minutes of struggling but she eventually broke Marek’s hold and slipped from his body. With a foot braced against her old mattress, she heaved him onto his side and into a foetal position. The man slept like the dead.

Was he dead? She stared at him until she could see the rise and fall of his body. Closing the door behind her, she made her way to her parents’ room and sat on the bed in her damp towel.

What else could she do for now? No way could she sleep knowing her reincarnated childhood sweetheart was in the next room regenerating or something.

Oh God, he’d beaten that security guard to death. Well, it was either that or genital worms would have got Aaron. The sexual hazard of sticking one’s genitals into corpses. A snort of laughter escaped her before they quickly became sobs. Now what? Now fucking what? Her bag vibrated and she jumped a foot into the air. Kevin.

“Hi.”

“Where are you?”

“At my parents. Just easier to get here. I didn’t want to drive for ages after such a long shift.” How easy it was to lie.

“I wish you’d called. I’ve been worried here.”

“I’m fine. Honestly,” she forced lightness into her tone. Why was he doing this? He should have made this sort of effort months ago.

“Well, call me in the morning”

“If I can. Goodnight.”

“Night. Love you.”

She ended the call before he asked why she didn’t say it back. I love a monster and that means I couldn’t have ever really loved Kevin, she whispered. Maybe if she got a little sleep she could start to process what her next steps were. And they had to be smarter than covering up a murder. Arranging herself on top of the duvet and beneath an electric blanket, Shibah forced her eyes closed and practised some deep breathing. Space. Calm. Breathe. Marek. Hearts. Marek drawing hearts on me. My wrist. My tummy. Between my legs with his tongue. No, no. He never touched me, he only kissed me once. And that kiss had been erotic perfection. He crossed her mind every time anyone looked at her in an even vaguely sexual way. Space. Calm. Breathe. Repeating the phrase over and over seemed to help, the warmth of the blanket lulling her into sleep.

She was back inside the lab. Marek was prostrate on the mortuary table in front of her. As she’d done before, she lifted his hand to her lips, tracing her thumb over the heart tattoo. His pulse jumped under her lips and her gaze fell on his face, still grey and waxy. Her hand traced over his forehead and she watched as sparks flew between their skins. White orbs fixed on her, his hand large and strong caught the edge of her lab coat, pushing it away. Obeying the silent command, Shibah allowed the lab coat to fall to the floor, leaving her in a simple pencil skirt and white blouse.

“Lift it up,” he commanded, his voice still sounding as if his voice box had been grated. She caught the hem of her skirt and pulled it above her waist. His fingers felt rough against her bare thighs. She couldn’t help her own shock at how dark she looked against his hand, even as it rose higher, scraping over her panties. Her breath locked in her throat as soon as he touched her beneath the lace. A gasp—desire and surprise—sounded loudly in the lab. Skin slipped against skin, Marek’s hand moving higher along her thighs, until he parted her sex and sank his fingers deep inside her. She rocked against his hand and almost lost her voice when he caught her just where she needed him. The response of her body skated down her legs and coated Marek’s fingers. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his grunt of pain. She glanced down and saw stark red half-moon circles where her nails had dug into the flesh of his torso. “Sorry,” she heaved.

“Come here,” he said in quiet invitation. She stripped off her skirt and panties before straddling him on the table with ease. He burned her with the heat of his cock, the tip brushing over her clit. Oh, God, how she remembered this fire! Sweat beaded between her breasts and at the small of her back. Marek caught her hips with hands that bit into her flesh, forcing her to look at him. The whiteness in his eyes had given way to that startling silver of her sweetheart.

“Take it,” he urged. Slowly she sank down onto him, the thickness of his cock pushing into her, spreading her little by little. She leaned down onto his chest and touched his cheek bones with the tips of her fingers.

“Every time,” she whispered, “every time I did this, I wished it was you.”

He kissed her, brushing his lips over hers. “It is me.”

Shibah woke, drenched in sweat and her hand locked between her thighs. The dream had been so vivid, she could feel the hardness of Marek within her. Ever since she’d touched him, the strangest sensations had assailed her. Stop it, she told herself. Just stop. She threw the blanket aside and showered properly, this time taking the care to put a cap over her hair. Changing into comfortable clothing that her mother kept aside for her, despite her stepfather’s need to have Shibah out of the house, she made her way down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table. It was barely two in the morning and she was afraid of what she’d dream about if she went back to sleep.

Folding her arms on the table, she watched water drip from the tap in the sink. Her mum should get that fixed. Levi was useless at DIY. He was good at manipulation but nothing that was inanimate. Horrible man. It took three inhalations to calm down. She’d worked so hard to put her feelings for Marek into perspective. Teenage infatuation with someone untenable. A crush on a boy who was angry and hurt and damaged. She’d told herself many times that it wasn’t fair for her to feel like that about him. Not when it couldn’t and wouldn’t last. Eventually it worked. The self-coaching did what it was supposed to, just so she could get on with her life. Meet someone else. Not expect the world from them. “Now he’s here,” she said. It changed everything. She buried her face in the crook of her arm and willed herself to stop thinking. To just stop.

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Of Monsters and Men



Just in time for Halloween - or really, any time you're in the mood for something a little on the dark side... I re-present to you Shibah's Monster.

Maybe paranormal isn't your thing, or you don't do scary. Well let me reassure you, this isn't scary at all - and I wouldn't say that to you if it wasn't true. You're hearing from the wimp who couldn't sleep after watching The Blair Witch Project (to be fair, I saw a preview screening, left the cinema at 1.30 in the morning in the damn suburbs). And it comes under paranormal because, seriously, dead people don't rise from their graves. Even though I wish a few would. So there we are. All in all, it's about the power of love over the curse of death. Yes!

So to music! This is the soundtrack to Shibah's Monster. Hold on to the one you love...

Shibah's Monster on Spotify

  1. Craig Armstrong Storm
  2. Jay-Z and Kayne West ft Frank Ocean No Church In The Wild 
  3. Radiohead Karma Police
  4. Tom Odell Another Love
  5. Eminem Beautiful Pain
  6. Dante Alighieri & Patrick Cassidy Vide Cor Meum
  7. The xx Reunion
  8. 112 Cupid
  9. Portishead Machine Gun
  10. Bloc Party The Prayer
  11. UNKLE ft Richard Ashcroft Lonely Soul
  12. S. Carey Mothers
  13. The Chemical Brothers Setting Sun 
  14. London Grammar Hey Now
  15. James Blake Retrograde
  16. Editors Nothing
  17. Chase & Status Alive
  18. Harry Gregson-Williams The Letter
  19. Gabriel Faure Requiem Op. 48 Agnus Dei
  20. The xx Unfold

Monday, 20 October 2014

Turn Back Time


And it's here! What started off as a story in a short collection evolved into a mire of emotion and naughtiness and the restorative beauty of Mexico. So for you, Coming Around Again...

Coming Around Again on Amazon

Don't forget, I'm having a Facebook Party to celebrate the release from 5.00pm to 6.30pm EST on Thursday 23 October and 7.00pm to 8.30pm on Friday 24 October. Prizes and goodies and all sorts, from me and a few of my friends. I get by with a little help from my friends! Release Party on Facebook


Around A Blurb


"I can't exist in a marriage where you endure me..." 

And with those haunting words, Stella's marriage to Niels comes to a terrible, heartbreaking end. She thought she'd done everything possible to keep her life together and to the outside world, her marriage was nothing less than perfection. Not according to Niels. As she struggles with the fall out of the divorce, Stella truly understands just how much she underestimated the strength and depth of feeling for her husband. And that they may never go away. However much she wants them to. And it seems, neither will Niels. Certainly not if she calls him. Invites him to her home. Sleeps with him. Stella tells herself it's a nostalgic habit she needs to break. Niels tells her it's just how they are and always will be. Maybe the divorce was exactly what they needed to truly be married...


Around An Excerpt


“What’s going on?” Stella demanded, stepping over the twins’ weekend bags scattered in her living room to face her ex-husband. The smug plonker was stretched out on her sofa—a sofa she was still paying for—with a boy on each side.
“Dad fancied staying,” Danny answered, barely turning his head to acknowledge her.
His brother piped up. “He said he wouldn’t mind if you had to go out.”
Presumptuous… “That’s the point of him having you over the weekend so I didn’t have to worry about that,” she retorted.
Niels barely rippled his shoulders in a shrug, squashing their children into his body. “You don’t have a date, do you? You’d have told me.”
Of course she would have! To rub it in his overtly attractive face. Instead, she’d had plans to meet up with her friends for a speed dating event. The risk with that plan was that her ex-husband would have free reign in her house.
Nope. Couldn’t be done. “Can I talk to you?” she suggested, with a grin so false, it cracked her cheeks. “Outside?”
Will looked at her. “Are you and Dad going to have a fight? Because…you know you said you wouldn’t anymore? Remember?”
Pressing her fingers to a pulse in her eyeball, Stella turned into the corridor, leaving the door open for Niels to follow. He sent her an infuriating smile before he sealed the living room from what needed to be a full-on barney.
“This is what we spent two years in court fighting about,” Stella began. “Boundaries,” she enunciated the word, drawing a line between their bodies. “You’re not respecting mine. Again.”
Niels watched her with an indulgent look on his face. “What are you more worried about? That you’re not out tonight, or that I know you’re not out?”
She’d paid a lot of money to be told not to use her fists to put her point across when it came to the man she’d so blindly married. “I’m worried about you putting ideas in their head—” she thrust a hand in the twins’ direction, “—that we’re getting back together!”
He nodded slowly, mouth twisting in thought. “Ah. That idea. The one you started by using me for sex last weekend.”
She slapped her hands over her eyes and turned away. Massively unfair! “It was a mistake! I was feeling weak and vulnerable and you…you came over with that sodding bottle of Malbec for no reason than to…to…”
He interrupted her spluttering. “To reminisce about the good days, post-three or four orgasms?”
Stella pointed to the kitchen and with the smuggest of smiles, he led the way. As soon as they were inside, Stella closed the door. “Now listen here…”
Niels pressed her to the wood and kissed every single letter of argument from her lips. Bad. Bad man. He still tasted every bit as forbidden and addictive and delicious as he always had. Her downfall was nostalgia. All of her firsts happened with the terrible man and he was still the best kisser to have nibbled on her top lip while palming her bottom. “I miss you,” he growled against her mouth.
“You divorced me, you numpty!” She heaved, pushing him away with shaking hands. “You split us up. You fought me on everything. And you, you utter wanker, you started seeing other people.”
Rage flickered in Niels’ face. “Hey, I only did that after Daniel told me about some fuck-face being here every other night.”
Okay, granted, she’d tried to move on first; but even after she accepted her marriage was over, nothing, including the vaginal tear from naturally delivering her two boys, nothing hurt as badly as seeing Niels with another woman. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. It really was her own fault for sleeping with him last weekend. All it did was make her wish for the old days.
“You know why our divorce took so long?” Niels said into the quiet. “I wanted you to change your mind. I dragged it out at every opportunity so you had to keep talking to me.”
What? “You’ve figured this out now?”
“My therapist told me.”
“You? Your what?” Niels didn’t do new age, touchy-feely stuff. Maybe if they had…
No, no. It was all too late. It had no meaning with a framed decree absolute and a shared care order.
He sighed heavily. “Therapy for what happened between you and me. It was that or pills, and you know me and pills don’t agree. I didn’t want to be off my face when the boys were with me.”
She stared at him in amazement. “You never said.”
He sent her an arch look. “Well, the last time I tried to talk to you, you were far more interested in getting my mouth in other places.”
Oops. God, he confused her completely.
“But I’m practically over you.”
“Liar. I’ve got text messages to prove it.” Urgh, maybe not. “I remember them off the top of my head: No one can make you harder than I can…”
“Niels...” The warning didn’t make him cease the falsetto in his quotes.
Remember that anniversary when we finally did anal? You really think you’d ever convince another woman to let you do that with that monster dick of yours?
“What is wrong with you?” she yelled.
“Oh, and my personal favourite: I miss you so much sometimes. That’s a lie. I miss you all the time. Sent just before I came over last week.”
She stalked past him and uncorked a bottle of wine. “What’s your point? I say silly things. And I know those first two texts were sent in the early bit of our divorce. Because I remember adding to the end of the second one how I ruined my arse because of you, so you owe me the sodding house.”
“Our children ruined your arse,” he argued, bracing his arms on either side of her waist, kissing the back of her neck. The heat of his breath sent shivers all over her skin. No, she couldn’t get caught up in physicality. Sex hadn’t been their problem. Communication had been.
“Back up,” she warned, pushing him away with her bottom, only to find herself locked against his groin.
“No,” he murmured, his hand stroking from her waistband to cup her breast. “Let me stay. We’ll talk.”
So tempting… “We won’t talk. You’ll try to get on top of me. Or in me. Or both.”
“Naturally, but Stella…we’ve been fooling ourselves for long enough. Last week was the first step to us being honest. There’s no reason we can’t carry on.”
His mouth trailed persuasively over her jaw to her lips. Breathlessly, she turned to give in to the kiss when Danny burst in.
“Dad, you promised pizza when Muma got home, and why are you being mushy-face with each other?”
Stella heard Will call from the living room, “I want stuffed crust!”
Niels pressed his lips to her cheek, his hand roving over her buttocks in an act of such dominance she nearly went on her knees. “Leave your Muma alone for a bit. We’ll order from the living room, okay? Dad’s not going anywhere.”
With a look of certainty, he shut the door behind them, leaving Stella gripping the wine bottle for dear life.
Well, damn it to hell on a breadstick.

Shit. Just. Got. Real.

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Here I Am



So because I'm dippy, I completely forgot to add these books to All Romance eBooks. There are some great deals there, especially for buying a few books at a time. I'm all for a bargain!


ARe A Life Sublime

ARe On Caristo's Watch

ARe Windows

Tuesday, 7 October 2014

Cry Me A River



I didn't mean this soundtrack to be this depressing, but anyways! It shall be neatly slotted into the book at the start so you can multi task as all brilliant women can. Listen to music, read and weep. Apologies for the weeping. Didn't mean that either.

Coming to a blurb....

I can't exist in a marriage where you endure me...

And with those haunting words, Stella's marriage to Niels comes to a terrible, heartbreaking end. She thought she'd done everything possible to keep her life together and to the outside world, her marriage was nothing less than perfection. Not according to Niels.
As she struggles with the fall out of the divorce, Stella truly understands just how much she underestimated the strength and depth of feeling for her husband. And that they may never go away. However much she wants them to. And it seems, neither will Niels. Certainly not if she calls him. Invites him to her home. Sleeps with him.
Stella tells herself it's a nostalgic habit she needs to break. Niels tells her it's just how they are and always will be. Maybe the divorce was exactly what they needed to truly be married...  

  1. Lana Del Rey Cruel World
  2. M83 Wait
  3. Lorde A World Alone
  4. Keaton Henson You
  5. Emeli Sande Mountains
  6. Beyonce Partition
  7. Lamb Bonfire
  8. Bloc Party Blue Light
  9. Paolo Nutini Iron Sky
  10. Massive Attack Unfinished Sympathy
  11. Foxes Glorious
  12. Nick Mulvey Fever To The Form
  13. Rebecca Ferguson ft John Legend Bridges
  14. Keaton Henson ft Ren Ford Josella 
  15. Alice Boman (PAL Remix) Waiting 
  16. London Grammar Stay Awake
  17. Sarah McLachlan Do What You Have To Do
  18. Ed Sheeran Kiss Me
  19. Aloe Blacc Femme Fatale
  20. Marsha Ambrosius Run
  21. Damien Rice I Remember 
  22. Daley Alone Together
  23. Portishead Roads 
  24. Foals Moon
  25. FKA twigs Pendulum
  26. FKA twigs Two Weeks
  27. Moby Porcelain
  28. James Vincent McMorrow Gold
  29. Arcade Fire Haiti
  30. Daughter Tomorrow 
  31. James Blake A Case Of You
  32. George Ezra - Blame It On Me

Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Coming Around Again


I'm back from my little jaunt to Italy! If you hadn't seen on my Facebook page, I left a little excerpt of the book that has seen me through a box of Kleenex, weeping and wailing and wailing and weeping. I'm over it though. Not selling it am I... Maybe this bit will though!

Niels takes over my blog.. 

Stella felt an elbow digging into her ribs. And something else hard between her buttocks and there was definitely a hand, a large male hand, cupping her breast. Underneath the material of Niels’ T-shirt, on the bare skin of breast that remained untouched since the last time she’d had sex with her husband, cupped.
“Are you awake?” Niels grumbled from behind her. “Do you need to be sick again?”
“The hell are you doing?” she demanded, wrestling out of his grip and slapping his hand from her tit.
“I was sleeping,” he said on an enormous yawn. “Until you started moving about.”
“You were feeling me up. Rubbing your chub into my bum,” she accused.
Niels lifted the duvet and started laughing. “Oh, come on, Stella. You know how much I love your pumpkin.”
“Don’t call it that.”
“This is all automatic. I don’t think it’ll ever change. There’ll be a day when I’m old and couldn’t encourage an erection. But while you still have that delectable ass, I will forever feel my manhood.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she threw at him, turning onto her side and tucking the duvet more tightly around herself.
Niels caught the T-shirt in a bunched fist and dragged her against his bare chest. “You didn’t have any complaints when you were sleeping earlier. Actually, you told me to move my hand lower.”
“I’m clearly delirious. And you’re taking advantage of a sick woman.”
“My wife.”
“Ex-wife.” She shivered as his palm slipped warmly underneath the T-shirt again, his thumb skimming over her navel.
“There’s still a possessive pronoun. Mine…” he added on a whisper.
“Look, I’m ill. I don’t need you molesting me with our children in the next room.”
“Why do you pretend I don’t know you? Post-orgasmic Stella always sleeps better than irritable Stella.”
So very true, but she couldn’t let her barely ex-husband touch her anywhere outside of the sanctity of marriage. God, the things she’d let that man do to her sexually…
“You shouldn’t,” she muttered while his index finger traced the line of her lace Brazilian-cut knickers.
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he assured her, parting her thighs with his hand and slipping his fingers beneath the edge of her panties.
“Sleep, my sweet,” he whispered. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Night and Day



Looking for book 3 in the IK series? It's on Amazon for your reading pleasure. The link to the playlist is inside the book, so you can shake your booty African style while you read.

A Life Sublime on Amazon

That's a blurb!
Belinda Afriyie is only in the Neapolitan Riviera for the wedding of her best friend’s daughter, never mind the fact that she bullied her way into it, mostly out of guilt for not being the mother figure that she should have been. At the very least, she had to make sure that Gina Robinson did her Ghanaian duty in marrying Nick Da Canaveze, even if Belinda had to get on a plane, pay excess baggage and suffer the heat for it. There would be no time for sightseeing, lounging around infinity pools and definitely no time for flirting with anyone. Especially not The Big Man, who was as troublesome as his son. The twinkle in Massimo Da Canaveze’s eyes told her that he was more than just trouble. He was a huge, fat God-like sign of what was missing from her life. Of just how glorious life could be with someone like him in it... But a man like him would never give her a side glance. It was fine. The wedding celebrations would last all of four days and she’d be off home. No looking. No touching. No flirting. None of that was good for her or her ego.
Massimo Da Canaveze is not enjoying his status as widower. He’s lonely. Feeling that way had become a way of life and his son’s wedding at his 800 year old family villa would hopefully put that to a stop. He would be surrounded by people he loved.  What he didn’t expect was the shrill voiced, authoritative, all commanding, arresting personality that was Belinda Afriyie to blaze through Italy in figure hugging, traditional African dresses and floaty kaftans that left little to the imagination. There hadn’t been an ample bosomed challenge like her to cross his path since his late wife. With a little music, a little sunshine, more than a bit of whiskey, he and Belinda were going to become very good friends.
Four Italian named puppet masters sit on the sideline of this play, throwing pizza pies to hit two half-centenarians in the eye. The Da Canaveze family is about to add to their growing number and no one is more shocked about it, than the puppets…

That's an excerpt!
He sent her an assessing look. “Why are you afraid of having things in common with me?”
Belinda turned to him, fury in her eyes. “Pardon?”
“The idea of having similarities with my life worries you. I can tell. We are all simply human. If not always with the same set of sensibilities.”
Hmm. “You and I both know that is not always the case.”
Those crystal blue eyes twinkled. “That sounded nice.”
“What?”

“You and I. Please do continue, we may even eventually agree with one another.”
Ridiculously attractive man, she thought, a reluctant grin tugging at her mouth. “Eh heh. All right, I’m going to go and sort myself out.”
“Belinda,” he said with a mild warning, as she heaved herself from the pool and padded to the lounger, “I am the last sensible adult in this villa. You should stay friends with me, even if we disagree, or you will have no one else to talk to.”
He has a realistic and very valid point, she thought, snapping off her swimming cap. God knows she wished there was a palm tree within reach where she could remove a few swatches and swat the idiocy from the mouths of those children. “I’ll let you know,” she replied smartly, pulling the kaftan over her head and wrapping the towel around her hair. He was still watching her. Naughty man, she knew that look. That same sort of look had got her into trouble before she had married and a good many times after. “You behave yourself. I told your son and I’ll tell you too. I am not afraid to beat you if you give me nonsense.”
Massimo glanced down at his arms before looking up, a light in his eyes that should have sent her running for her passport and on the first plane back to London. “What makes you think I would not enjoy that?”
“Because you’ve never had a proper beating from me,” she retorted, collecting her things and making her way back to the villa. There would be something to occupy herself with and take the goosebumps from her flesh that had nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the husky laugh of the man still in the pool.