With a shiny new cover, I thought I'd reblog the music that inspired and pushed this little (long) tale along to the very end. Play it loud - it's summer ready!
KTC Amazon
The Romance Reviews
Showing posts with label Lily and Pasha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lily and Pasha. Show all posts
Monday, 16 June 2014
Replay
With a shiny new cover, I thought I'd reblog the music that inspired and pushed this little (long) tale along to the very end. Play it loud - it's summer ready!
KTC Amazon
Monday, 9 June 2014
Again
Have you seen my beautiful new cover? Isn't is gorgeous? I have to give full props to the wonderful Bree Archer who calmly dealt with my demands. You can find her here: http://breearcher.com/
I hope it's enticing you to give my little (57k word little) tale on illegal marriages a read over. Go on... It's a little bit Russian, a little bit sexy and a lot of lovin'!
Find me:
https://www.allromanceebooks
http://www.amazon.com
Read me:
Pasha flexed his fists back and forth until his
father’s presence wasn’t settling on his skin any more. He glanced at the girl,
Miss Asare. Her face was creamy coffee, set with righteous indignation, rose
tinted lips tight in anger. She was giving him the sort of look he always got
from South London girls. What the fuck is
your problem?
If only they knew. “Miss Asare, please don’t think I
don’t know how you feel. We both have fathers who disappoint us.”
“Your father is helping you.”
“No. He’s helping himself. It doesn’t seem like it
but… It’s a way to help himself,” Pasha thought for a moment. “But at the same
time, both of us can get out from under our parents. You do this and your
father never asks you for a penny again. I do this and...” He hesitated.
“And what?”
“And you save me.”
She laughed. “I think you can handle your own daddy
issues.”
“I can’t,” he admitted with a wry smile. “He’s got a
gun to my head. I’ve done something that means... I’m sorry, I don’t know your
name.”
“It’s Lily, Mr. Articulation. What’s your problem?”
Apart from you
right now? He thought. “I’ve got a father who’s hanging my bad deeds over
my head. He pulls me into this, he’s in just as much shit as me. We’d be even.”
She breathed out noisily. “I can’t be dealing with
this. I can’t.”
“Don’t you want to be free of him? Don’t you want this
to be the last time he calls you because he’s lost all his money?”
“There is never a last time,” Lily cried. “I am always
bailing him out. I am always writing cheques, and paying people off, and
picking him up from police stations. I can’t do it anymore. What in God’s name
makes you think that this will be the last time?”
“Because I can blacklist him,” Pasha said. “My father
wouldn’t do it because he thought there was something to be gained from him,
but I can make sure no betting shop touches him with fishing pole.”
“Barge pole,” Lily corrected, watching him
suspiciously. “You’d do that? Make sure he can’t gamble anymore?”
“Not just betting shops but casinos, arcades.
Everywhere. But you need to help me too. I’m running out of time here, Lily. I
need to have my immigration documents sorted in the next few months.”
He could see her contemplating. His father could never
read women. Lily’s concern wasn’t with money or the business, it was being
unchained from her pathetic parent. “You wouldn’t need to worry about him
again. Because with people like your father, he needs to hit the floor. And
because of you, he hasn’t done that yet. He’ll find help by himself if I get
you to stop.”
She turned to the side, presenting a profile that
reminded him of the Nefertiti statue in the British Museum, a few curls winding
along her neck. “I need to think about this.”
“I understand. Here,” he held out his hand. “Let me
give you my number. You can talk to me, not my father. How much time do you
need?”
“The last day of never would be helpful.”
Pasha bit on his lip to recall his patience. “How
about this time on Sunday? Gives you a few days.”
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“Because I like to think you and I understand each
other. We’re in the same position.”
“Crap dads? Yeah, definitely.” She dug into her bag
and handed over her phone. “You just-”
“I’m phone friendly,” he assured her with a half
smile. He dialled in his number, dropped a call to his phone, and added his
name to her phone book. “There.”
She took the phone back from him. “What would I even
tell my friends, my mum? Oh my god, my mother!”
Anything that would mean the Home Office would leave
them alone until after he was granted citizenship would be good. “Just think
about this first. Then we can get our stories together. We do share a language.
A culture. A history. I wouldn’t expect a single thing from you other than
changing the address for a few bills and a quick ceremony at the nearest
registry office.”
Lily put the phone back in her bag. “I need to get out
of here. Ummm. I’ll call you.”
He needed something, something just to hook her into
the briefest notion that this could possibly work out and for the best. He
curled his fingers around her forearm, pulling her gently closer to him. “Thank
you Lily,” he murmured, touching his mouth ever so softly to hers. The flavour
of toffee lingered on his lips. He wondered what on earth she had smeared on
her mouth that made her taste that way.
“Um, okay, bye,” she muttered, turning and
disappearing out of the changing room. His father eventually came inside, just
as he was tugging on his gloves.
“I always bring the solutions,” he gloated. “No one
would think twice that you’re not in a real relationship. You’re both the right
age and she’s a good Russian girl who wouldn’t let anything happen to her papa.
He’d hand her over for a five pound note.”
Pasha stared at his father until the older man started
squirming uncomfortably. “She’s thinking about it. If anything happens to her,
or her father before then, you’ll have to find a solution for yourself. She is
a good girl. Who doesn’t deserve this.”
“Pasha, you go too far. I’ve done what I can for you.
The only reason you are in this mess is because you put yourself in it.”
“The only reason I am here is because you dragged me
here!”
“And you think you could have survived Russian prison?
Boy, I have wiped your arse for too long.”
Pasha punched his gloved fists together which made his
father jump backwards. “No one asked you to interfere.”
“It’s not interference if it’s for your own good. You
wait, once you have citizenship, your career will fly. The sponsors are
chomping at the bit to sign you. You’ll be on an international level,
presenting for the Olympics... you will be truly great. And you will thank me for
doing this for you. You will Pasha.”
“As long as you have a footnote in my biography?”
Pasha sneered. “I’ve told you, leave that girl alone. This grand plan only
works if I cooperate.” Pasha made his way towards the changing room doors. “And
if I don’t, don’t think for a minute that I won’t take you down with me.”
Pasha saw the flicker of fear in his father’s face
before he brushed past him to train. He always worked more easily when he
pictured his father’s face on the bag.
Saturday, 5 April 2014
Cinderella Man
As promised, Kissing the Canvas is now on Amazon! Enjoy! And in case you haven't quite been persuaded to allow a blunt Russian to challenge your Italian allegiances, have a read:
Kissing the Canvas on Amazon
Blurb:
Russian boxer, Pasha Markovitch, has everything in his corner, looks, potential for Olympic greatness, and speed of powerful fists professionals only dream of. There’s just one small issue. If he can’t find a solution to his current visa situation, he’ll be out of the UK and ducking and weaving with government standard silver bracelets on his wrists. The pressures of his father’s greed and the anxiety of a past that continues to knock him down, steadily wear on him until chance leads him to green fingered, sarcastic mouthed, Liliana Asare who offers the light of a reprieve. Coming to an arrangement of mutual exchange, they both get what they want. Pasha gets to stay in the country and Liliana gets the financing for her florist shop. The whole scenario is perfect enough to list. Woman willing to marry him so he doesn’t end up deported and she doesn’t end up losing her livelihood? Check. Avaricious father satisfied? Check. Falling in love with his fake wife? Wait, that’s not on the list…
Note: This is simply a romance and not a guide as to how to stay in the UK with a marriage of convenience. The law on that changed in July 2012, but at the time of writing, this is absolutely correct. So if it happens that the Home Office Minister reads this story, it’s just fiction. As changeable as your job…
Excerpt:
Ten jabs per arm and he was now feeling the strain in his muscles. It was less than before when he reached two hundred, but he felt the itch of someone watching him. Pasha held the bag still, catching his breath. “Lukasz. What do you want?”
His brother crumpled the bag of crisps in his hand and threw it over his shoulder, leaping down from the pile of mats stacked in the corner of the exercise room of the gym. “Let’s talk about Lily.”
Pasha gritted his teeth, and rather than answer, he turned back to the bag and continued his repetitions.
“What for?”
“You’ve never been so secretive,” Lukasz said then corrected himself immediately, “Alright, but as your dearest sibling, I’d like to know something about the girl who’s locked you down. Tits like a championship belt?”
Pasha turned and slammed a gloved fist squarely in between Lukasz’s eyebrows. Not at all expecting such a response, Lukasz’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he toppled over, kissing the canvas. It was an old boxing term for being knocked out. Pasha returned to the punching bag, jiggling on the spot until the tension disappeared from his frame and he was able to continue his practice until Lukasz regained consciousness. A brief flash of guilt told him that he should really stop punching his brother unconscious but he’d stop doing it when his brother wasn’t a complete idiot. “What happened?”
“You were talking about tits and you passed out,” Pasha explained calmly. He held the bag still as his brother got to his feet.
“That doesn’t sound right. You were going to tell me about my shiny new sister-in-law to be.”
Better to get this over with now. “She’s half Russian, her father’s an idiot, her mother’s bitter, her brother is apparently alright, but treating the whole thing like a joke.”
“Good. That’s her family. What about her?”
“She has ambitions. She wants to start her own business but can’t do it in the middle of an economic crisis where banks have no give. She’s very smart. And she’s decent.”
Lukasz grinned. “Oh yeah? What about when she’s naked.” Pasha fought for calm. “No.” His answer was a mistake.
Lukasz interest piqued. “Oh I see. She hasn’t let you inside the gates of heaven.”
“I am not talking about my sex life. It’s not your concern.”
Lukasz grinned. “That sounds like a man unfulfilled. May I helpfully suggest the following? Maxwell. Alcohol. Candles. No woman can resist that combination. You should really test drive before you buy. Check for defects.” He shouldn’t do it, and Lily had sent him the text stating that it was for emergencies only and if she found out he had used it for anything else, he would lose not only his manhood but his head. Despite nearly being a foot taller than his wife to be, he believed that she would tear him a new arsehole if she had a hint of a waiver from his promise. But this, definitely counted as an emergency. His brother would need to be on side.
“Come on.” Pasha sighed, heading towards the changing rooms. He threw his gloves onto the benches and opened his locker, removing his mobile. With a short, sharp scroll through his messages he handed his phone to his brother. “See? No defects.” It was a picture of Lily in a bra that had less material than it was probably worth, taking a picture of her reflection in a full length mirror. What about this one? She had written underneath it. The glossy black layers of the bra gave a little more richness to her creamy coffee skin. Lukasz was still looking, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.
“Hmm, not bad little bro. A little on the round side.” Pasha stilled. What was that? Was that an insult? To Lily? “Are you calling my fiancée fat?” he asked delicately.
Lukasz heard the warning in his voice and started, “Fuck, don’t hit me again.”
“Just because you can’t play her rib cage like a musical instrument does not mean she is fat. She’s…” So crazy sexy in this photo I nearly drove to her flat and fucked her raw?
“Fine as she is.” Lukasz handed the phone back to him. “You must be in love to say all that bull crap and mean it.” Pasha’s grip tightened on the phone. “Get out.” His brother’s green eyes gleamed.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to be best man?”
Pasha swore so violently in Russian that Lukasz was a cloud of dust running from the changing room.
Short sighted fool, he thought furiously. Lily’s cheekbones were more angled than most of the women splashed across magazines. So her stomach and thighs were a little soft? Who wanted to sleep on the floor when you could rest on a mattress? She was more than fine as she was. He looked down at the picture again and wondered why the newly christened ‘numpty’ Steven, the recipient of such visual Viagra, had simply given Lily away. It didn’t matter, it was Pasha’s gain. In having a British wife, he corrected himself hastily. A fake one at that. Because if Lily was his real fiancée, he’d have seen that underwear in all its shaded glory, peeled it from her, maybe with his teeth, or just left it on her, the bra pushed under her breasts, and the panties hooked to the side while he fucked her slowly and deeply, so that the next time she even thought about that underwear, her pussy would echo how it trembled with orgasms. He turned the phone off sharply and locked it up. He needed a shower. At least to make his cock calm down. There was no point in getting even remotely excited. Lily was off limits. She was not going to be his real wife. And she would not be showing him what colour underwear she had on any time soon.
His brother crumpled the bag of crisps in his hand and threw it over his shoulder, leaping down from the pile of mats stacked in the corner of the exercise room of the gym. “Let’s talk about Lily.”
Pasha gritted his teeth, and rather than answer, he turned back to the bag and continued his repetitions.
“What for?”
“You’ve never been so secretive,” Lukasz said then corrected himself immediately, “Alright, but as your dearest sibling, I’d like to know something about the girl who’s locked you down. Tits like a championship belt?”
Pasha turned and slammed a gloved fist squarely in between Lukasz’s eyebrows. Not at all expecting such a response, Lukasz’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he toppled over, kissing the canvas. It was an old boxing term for being knocked out. Pasha returned to the punching bag, jiggling on the spot until the tension disappeared from his frame and he was able to continue his practice until Lukasz regained consciousness. A brief flash of guilt told him that he should really stop punching his brother unconscious but he’d stop doing it when his brother wasn’t a complete idiot. “What happened?”
“You were talking about tits and you passed out,” Pasha explained calmly. He held the bag still as his brother got to his feet.
“That doesn’t sound right. You were going to tell me about my shiny new sister-in-law to be.”
Better to get this over with now. “She’s half Russian, her father’s an idiot, her mother’s bitter, her brother is apparently alright, but treating the whole thing like a joke.”
“Good. That’s her family. What about her?”
“She has ambitions. She wants to start her own business but can’t do it in the middle of an economic crisis where banks have no give. She’s very smart. And she’s decent.”
Lukasz grinned. “Oh yeah? What about when she’s naked.” Pasha fought for calm. “No.” His answer was a mistake.
Lukasz interest piqued. “Oh I see. She hasn’t let you inside the gates of heaven.”
“I am not talking about my sex life. It’s not your concern.”
Lukasz grinned. “That sounds like a man unfulfilled. May I helpfully suggest the following? Maxwell. Alcohol. Candles. No woman can resist that combination. You should really test drive before you buy. Check for defects.” He shouldn’t do it, and Lily had sent him the text stating that it was for emergencies only and if she found out he had used it for anything else, he would lose not only his manhood but his head. Despite nearly being a foot taller than his wife to be, he believed that she would tear him a new arsehole if she had a hint of a waiver from his promise. But this, definitely counted as an emergency. His brother would need to be on side.
“Come on.” Pasha sighed, heading towards the changing rooms. He threw his gloves onto the benches and opened his locker, removing his mobile. With a short, sharp scroll through his messages he handed his phone to his brother. “See? No defects.” It was a picture of Lily in a bra that had less material than it was probably worth, taking a picture of her reflection in a full length mirror. What about this one? She had written underneath it. The glossy black layers of the bra gave a little more richness to her creamy coffee skin. Lukasz was still looking, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.
“Hmm, not bad little bro. A little on the round side.” Pasha stilled. What was that? Was that an insult? To Lily? “Are you calling my fiancée fat?” he asked delicately.
Lukasz heard the warning in his voice and started, “Fuck, don’t hit me again.”
“Just because you can’t play her rib cage like a musical instrument does not mean she is fat. She’s…” So crazy sexy in this photo I nearly drove to her flat and fucked her raw?
“Fine as she is.” Lukasz handed the phone back to him. “You must be in love to say all that bull crap and mean it.” Pasha’s grip tightened on the phone. “Get out.” His brother’s green eyes gleamed.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to be best man?”
Pasha swore so violently in Russian that Lukasz was a cloud of dust running from the changing room.
Short sighted fool, he thought furiously. Lily’s cheekbones were more angled than most of the women splashed across magazines. So her stomach and thighs were a little soft? Who wanted to sleep on the floor when you could rest on a mattress? She was more than fine as she was. He looked down at the picture again and wondered why the newly christened ‘numpty’ Steven, the recipient of such visual Viagra, had simply given Lily away. It didn’t matter, it was Pasha’s gain. In having a British wife, he corrected himself hastily. A fake one at that. Because if Lily was his real fiancée, he’d have seen that underwear in all its shaded glory, peeled it from her, maybe with his teeth, or just left it on her, the bra pushed under her breasts, and the panties hooked to the side while he fucked her slowly and deeply, so that the next time she even thought about that underwear, her pussy would echo how it trembled with orgasms. He turned the phone off sharply and locked it up. He needed a shower. At least to make his cock calm down. There was no point in getting even remotely excited. Lily was off limits. She was not going to be his real wife. And she would not be showing him what colour underwear she had on any time soon.
Tuesday, 18 March 2014
Punching in a Dream
Music to fall in love with your fake spouse to! The songs range from what I was listening to at the start of the writing process to the songs that pulled me through a surprisingly painless edit. This is the first story where I had the cover first and wrote a story to match exactly what is going on in the picture. Not sure I'll ever do that again! So, for you, this is the soundtrack to Lily and Pasha's story...
http://beautifultroublepublishing.com/genres/new-releases-home-page/kissing-the-canvas-ebook.html
- Arcade Fire - We Used To Wait
- Bastille - Pompeii Kat Krazy Remix
- Charlotte OC - Colour My Heart
- Laura Mvula - Green Garden
- Nicki Minaj - Superbass
- Lana Del Rey - Brite Lites
- The Joy Formidable - Wolf's Law
- Disclosure ft Eliza Doolittle - You & Me
- Florence + The Machine - Only If For A Night
- Chris Malinchak - So Good to Me
- Jennifer Lopez ft Pitbull - Dance Again
- Sia - Kill and Run
- Kanye West - Bound 2
- Kasabian - Shoot the Runner
- Adele - Rolling in the Deep
- Jessie Ware - Wildest Moments
- Janelle Monae - Tightrope (No Big Verse)
- Interpol - The Specialist
- Bloc Party - SRXT
- Rudimental ft John Newman- Feel the Love
Friday, 7 March 2014
Knocks You Down
Well this took its sweet time to come around! I started writing this story coming up to three years ago. Appalling isn't it. But like I said in another post, it was all getting a bit too close for comfort so I shelved it. Until the harassment... I mean, encouragement of Janet Eckford and Nikki Winter I felt threatened... I mean gently nudged into completing it. Now it's all done, polished, fighting fit and ready for reading. Oh and you may have a tingle in the brain that you've met Lily before. Have a lookie see in the last story in the Season of Love Vol 1 Wynne's Surprise. Lily makes a cameo...
Truth is stranger than fiction. I cannot say this enough. Trust me, the madness of this story wouldn't have been written if things like (well you'll see) hadn't happened and I hadn't a front seat to it all. I didn't have popcorn, but I may as well have. Strap yourselves in folks. It's gonna be a bumpy ride...
Reklama, da?
Russian boxer, Pasha Markovitch, has everything in his corner, looks, potential
for Olympic greatness, and speed of powerful fists professionals only dream of.
There’s just one small issue. If he can’t find a solution to his current visa
situation, he’ll be out of the UK and ducking and weaving with government
standard silver bracelets on his wrists. The pressures of his father’s greed
and the anxiety of a past that continues to knock him down, steadily wear on
him until chance leads him to green fingered, sarcastic mouthed, Liliana Asare
who offers the light of a reprieve. Coming to an arrangement of mutual
exchange, they both get what they want. Pasha gets to stay
in the country and Liliana gets the financing for her florist shop. The whole
scenario is perfect enough to list. Woman
willing to marry him so he doesn't end up deported and she doesn't end up
losing her livelihood? Check. Avaricious father satisfied? Check. Falling in
love with his fake wife? Wait, that’s not on the list...
Vyderzhka, da?
Pasha felt a poke in his chest and looked down at Lily. “I said, they’re
not watching.”
He frowned. Had that been the point of getting up to dance? So their
family members wouldn’t stare at them? In the lithe movements of their bodies,
melded in the heat and dry ice of the club, lights catching Lily’s hair, the
sheen on her cheekbones and the gloss on her lips... he’d entirely forgotten.
He did suppose Lily had some explaining to do, now that he was the overlap
between the end of her relationship with Steven and their forthcoming marriage.
In his book, the less said the better. It wasn’t anyone’s concern or shouldn’t
be anyone’s concern what Lily did with her love life.
“Do you want to go outside?”
She gave a short nod and with his hand curled around her arm, he led
them to the smoking area of the club and sat her down at the far end, away from
the smokers, huddling under the outdoor heaters. “What’s the matter?” he asked
her.
“Isn’t this stressing you? All this lying?”
“I’m not lying, I’m simply not talking,” he corrected. She wrapped her
arms around herself. “What did Lukasz say to you?”
“He said I was far too sexy to be getting married and certainly too sexy
to be marrying you.”
Pasha grimaced. “He’s an idiot.”
She didn’t disagree with him, which concluded she felt the same. “Agnes
keeps flirting with you.”
He noted her tone and tilted his head to the side. What was that about?
“I’m not paying attention if that helps.” She gave a shrug and rubbed her arms
faster. “Are you cold?”
“I’ll be alright, if it gives us breathing space from the theatre in
there.”
“So this Steven...” he trailed off. Interested in the response, he
shuffled closer until their bare arms were pressed together.
“You’re like a radiator,” she murmured, frowning at him. “Oh, Steven. I
thought we were going to get married and all the joys that come with it. I
wouldn’t have moved in with him otherwise.”
“But now your family thinks you cheated on him. With me.”
She glanced down, her curls tumbling around her face. “Better that way.”
He sighed heavily. “You shouldn’t have done that. You’ve made your life
unnecessarily complicated.”
“Me?”
“Our lives.”
“Haven’t you ever?”
His mouth tightened in disapproval. “No. I see it as senseless. If
you’re so enamoured, you can wait. You should wait until that person is free to
be with you. Why cause such destruction over a relationship that has little to
no chance of success.”
She pushed a hand through her curls, her eyebrows drawing together in
confusion. “Why say that?”
“I’m like you, remember? Child of divorce. There are very few people
worthy of trust and I don’t give it lightly. People behave very selfishly. Not
conducive to a successful relationship. The world we live in, in a short few
years, every single marriage will be doomed to failure.”
“That’s a sad way to think of things.”
Life was sad. “Realistic,” he corrected. “Nothing lasts forever.
Certainly not an emotion as fleeting as love.” She didn’t take her eyes from
his face and he saw the pity in her eyes. “It’s better that way.” He assured
her, getting up and pulling her to her feet. “Less chance of being
disappointed. Come on. You’re cold.”
Her acquiescence pleased him. Fighting would always cause more damage
than good, inevitably leading to a wider range of feelings he should not for
one minute have for his fake bride to be.
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