To those lucky enough to hear, the Blue Moon may speak at midnight, and it may grant your wish... On one such night, in sheer desperation, Maddie Elliott set aside skepticism and doubt to make a wish under the magic of the Blue Moon's light. The magic brings Maddie through a secret garden gate to a world unknown to her, but whose sights and sounds overwhelm her senses with strange familiarity. Incomprehension and confusion fill her heart when she meets the Earl of Ruglen. The Law of Attraction couldn't possibly be wrong, yet how could she long for someone whom she wholeheartedly despised? Surely, the Blue Moon was mistaken...
All eBooks Available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited...Read an excerpt...
Saturday 26 December 2020
Wednesday 23 December 2020
Currently writing Hessa's Fire: Rekindled, a sequel to Hessa's Fire.
The story starts in the fictional Hajr. My heroine is engaged to her prince charming and is wondering if she has bitten off more than she can chew....
Hessa gently broke the embrace and stepped away with a faint smile. “I know it sounds foolish, but there’s a lot to learn about being your wife, Rafiq,” she said. “Not to mention the protocols and the names of the royal household, and the names of all the other royal houses in order of importance, mind you, lest I offend anyone.”
“Yes, which is why Maryam is there to help you,” Rafiq said. He reached out and gently guided Hessa back within the circle of his arms. He moved a hand up to cradle the back of her neck, rubbing his thumb lightly over the skin as he coaxed her eyes back to his. “Now, tell me what’s really bothering you,” he said when he’d secured her attention once more.
Hessa looked at Rafiq for a long moment. “Sometimes I feel woefully uneducated and hopelessly unprepared for the responsibilities that come with being your Queen,” she admitted. She bit her lip, unsure whether to continue, then blurted softly. “Fauzia left some big shoes to fill.”
Monday 7 December 2020
Friday 27 November 2020
Regardless of their ethnicity....
Regardless of the ethnicity of my characters, I do try to write universal stories. My heroines, my characters, run the gamut of every emotion, from jealousy to happiness, to sorrow to regret, to anger.
What differentiates one character for another is simply the intensity of these emotions. How the character reacts or responds to situations, circumstances or people around them.
My heroines are, for better or for worse, measured and composed in their approach to everything around them. But even more than that, my heroines have a very strong sense of self. They are completely comfortable in their own skin, and they don't need any validation whatsoever. This is why first impressions is very important to my heroines.
They are quick to put up walls and to distance themselves from those that they distrust. This does not mean that my heroines are cold or detached, on the contrary. It simply means they have a sixth sense of the people about them; the people around them - and they are very seldom wrong.
However, sometimes, they are wrong. And they get it wrong in the most fantastic way. But the journey to the reconciliation, to the understanding and the love in my stories is exactly what makes MPC Romantic Fiction interesting.
Their journey, the twists and turns makes for an interesting dynamic.
I Love History....
I love history - no matter whose - and I am especially inspired by myths, ancient folklore and fairytales. So, you will find many of these themes in my stories in some form or another.
For example, Frost Moons and Golden Apples is a story woven around the Norse Mythology; Hessa's Fire plays out in the time of the Arab Spring; Treason is set against the backdrop of the Gunpowder Plot - a Catholic conspiracy to murder King James the First of England in the 17th century; and Old Wounds and Forever Afters is inspired by several Shakespeare quotes.Friday 20 November 2020
Monday 16 November 2020
First Meeting Between...
Madeleine and Lord Ruglen from Fairytale Bride
❤
Maddie's lowered gaze flicked upward to Lord
Ruglen who, emerging from the shadows allowed her, for the first, full view of
his face. Shock paralyzed her breathing and widened her eyes to the size of
saucers. An overwhelming sense of panic swept through her.
"You trespass on private land," Lord
Ruglen said.
Maddie barely heard him.
Straightening abruptly, she recoiled
instinctively, tripping and falling in her haste to get away. She scrambled to
her feet and looked nervously about her. Which
way? She turned to run, but found Lord Ruglen's horse blocking her path.
Maddie tried again, darting past Lord Ruglen's
horse, yet she took no more than two steps before Ruglen and his horse blocked
her way once more. Every which way she turned, Ruglen was seemingly prepared
and determined to prevent her flight.
"Enough," he yelled as Maddie
attempted to evade him yet again.
Maddie took a steadying breath, then raised
tentative eyes to his.
Stunning eyes, familiar eyes, the color of morion
in the gloom of the forest, coolly appraised her from on high. For a moment,
their gaze locked and something akin to recognition flowed between them.
❤
Thursday 8 October 2020
Monday 5 October 2020
Fairytale Bride - an excerpt
Read an excerpt
Chapter One
❤
Madeleine Elliot's father's last and somewhat
strange request had brought her here, back to Harcles Hill Farm, to the
cramped, web-filled, dust-strewn garret high in the rafters. She had searched
the attic for hours until she'd found the tiny trinket her father had made her
promise to find, wrapped in an antique chemise.
She frowned, inhaling deeply as she studied the
gold chain with its delicate gold crowned heart dangling between her fingers,
and pondered the name that had so consumed her father in the final days of his
life. Did the gold chain belong to the woman, Sarah, who had haunted his mind?
And if it did, who was Sarah and where on earth was she supposed to start
looking for Sarah?
At first, Maddie had thought her father had been
confused, mistaking her mother's name with that of another, then she had caught
the look in his eyes—in his clear olive-green gaze. He had been sane and lucid,
without a hint of the disease that was invading his brain, torturing his
speech, and contorting his thoughts. For one brief moment, she’d glimpsed the
strong, vital man her father had once been.
Faint molecules of an ethereal scent suddenly punctuated
the heavy, dank odor of the attic. It touched her senses with vague familiarity
and planted seeds of impossible memories in her brain—the soft lilt of music,
the lively sliver of swishing skirts, the sound of laughter amidst a maelstrom
of shapeless faces. Happy times, although Maddie had no idea how she could have
known it.
"Well, it feels like happy times," she murmured aloud in
self-correction, then realized in sudden amazement she couldn't possibly have
knowledge of that either. Still, somehow her spirits were lifted by the
thought, and her heart overwhelmed by that singular emotion.
Her fingers caressed the delicate gold crowned
heart swinging to and fro on its gold chain. It had been a while since she had
been happy...felt happy.
The shadows about her unexpectedly softened to a
gentle shade of blue, and Maddie snapped her gaze left to the bewitching aura
of moonlight filtering through the attic's small casement window.
She rose from the dust-covered floor and, slipping
the delicate chain into the pocket of her sundress, moved to the window. She
gazed out onto the inky black sky, absent of stars. All was deserted save for
the clear full moon that hung above her father's precious hillside walled
garden. It was the second full moon of that month. A phenomenon that wouldn’t
come around again for some time.
Her father had known it.
He’d made her promise to return to Harcles Hill
Farm on this night of the so-called Blue Moon. You too are a child of the moon,
he’d said.
Maddie didn’t know what her father had meant by
that. The intelligibility had once again gone from his eyes and she’d simply
thought he’d reverted to the ramblings of an old, sick man, but even as a
faraway look crept into his tired eyes and he fell once again exhausted against
the pillows he’d held her gaze, almost, it seemed, as if he was trying to will
her to understand.
Maddie wiped away the tear rolling down her face
as she remembered her father’s dying words.
"The garden is an enchanted place under the
Blue Moon," he’d said. "You don't remember, Maddie, but magic
happens. Walk in the light of the Blue Moon, and you'll see. Midnight,
Maddie," he'd said, his voice feeble with death. "Always midnight. Just
believe."
Maddie sighed. Right now, she wanted to believe
more than anything. She closed her eyes and tried her hardest to remember. She
wanted to remember.
As a child, she’d believed her father's
stories...Stories that had once felt so tangible, so real. She opened her eyes
and gazed down into the walled garden below. It was real. Everything. She knew it. She could feel it, yet, why
couldn't she remember it?
"Because I am no longer a child," she
murmured sadly. "Peter Pan didn't want to grow up for the very reason I
can't remember."
****
❤
FAIRYTALE BRIDE - Regency Romance
NEW RELEASE!
To those lucky enough to hear, the Blue Moon may speak at midnight, and it may grant your wish...
On one such night, in sheer desperation, Maddie Elliott set aside skepticism and doubt to make a wish under the magic of the Blue Moon's light. The magic brings Maddie through a secret garden gate to a world unknown to her, but whose sights and sounds overwhelm her senses with strange familiarity.
Incomprehension and confusion fill her heart when she meets the Earl of Ruglen. The Law of Attraction couldn't possibly be wrong, yet how could she long for someone whom she wholeheartedly despised?
Surely, the Blue Moon was mistaken...
Saturday 26 September 2020
Thursday 24 September 2020
Hessa's Fire - Available Now
Her eyes slowly opened into the masculine beauty of his. Dark green and not black as they’d appeared at a distance.
Monday 21 September 2020
First Meeting Between...
Jessica and Jason from Blood Of His Fathers
❤
Jess smiled as she remembered her son’s beaming, conspiring face the evening her mother came to collect him. The little traitor had gone without as much as a token struggle or backward glance.
“That’s better,” a masculine voice acknowledged.
Her startled gaze lifted to the tall man leaning with nonchalant ease near the exit doors. Everything about him—from his muscular physique encased in an expensively tailored dark suit to the confident curve of his lips and amber colored eyes glittering from beneath straight, dark brows—exuded power and position.
In years gone by Jess would’ve crumbled under the sheer intensity of his scrutiny, but time had taught her to control her emotions and hide her feelings well. She calmly released the breath she was holding and schooled her features into one of blatant disinterest. She tilted her chin and forced herself not to look away.
“What’s better?”
“Your smile,” he said. “Very pretty and all too fleeting.”
Jess lifted a finely shaped eyebrow with practiced indifference. “Really,” she said, unconvinced.
He chuckled. A soft, sexy sound that fluttered down her spine and nestled with incredible precision between her thighs. “Yes, really.”
❤
Saturday 19 September 2020
First Meeting Between...
Hessa and Rafiq from Hessa's Fire
❤
She bristled.
He had no right to be angry
with her.
Her knuckles were practically drained of blood with the death grip she’d
kept on the steering wheel, but she peeled her fingers from the steering wheel,
unfastened the seatbelt and climbed from the small, red car, slamming the
driver’s door shut behind her with a resounding thud. She stormed toward the
tall, broad-shouldered man, her ire rising with each step.
“Of all the idiotic, stupid stunts to pull—”
Their eyes connected and Hessa instantly regretted it. Nervous heat
flared in her chest and a long-forgotten desire surged to life between her
thighs. She took an involuntary step backward and reached for her engagement
ring with trembling fingers.
Matthew had only been dead six months.
She shouldn’t be aware of another man on such a cellular level or want
to bury her nose in his skin. Or notice how tightly his black riding breeches
hugged his lean, muscular thighs or how his white polo shirt outlined his broad
chest and taut, tapering waist.
The urge to turn and run overwhelmed her, but those dark, powerful orbs locked her into place with searing intensity. It was the last thing Hessa expected and the last thing she wanted.
❤
Monday 14 September 2020
Coming Soon - Fairytale Bride
Read an excerpt
❤
Chapter One
Madeleine Elliot's father's last,
and somewhat strange, request had brought her here, back to Harcles Hill Farm,
to the cramped, web-filled, dust-strewn garret high in the rafters. She had
searched the attic for hours until she'd found the tiny trinket he'd made her
promise to find, wrapped in an antique chemise.
She frowned and her breath deepened
as she studied the gold chain dangling between her fingers and pondered the
name that had so haunted her father in his final days. Did the gold chain
belong to the woman, Sarah, who had haunted his mind? And if it did, who was
Sarah and where on earth was she supposed to start looking for Sarah?
At first, Maddie had thought her
father had been confused, mistaking her mother's name with that of another,
then she had caught his eyes—his clear olive gaze. They had been sane and
lucid, without a hint of the disease that was invading his brain, torturing his
speech and contorting his thoughts. For a brief moment, she had glimpsed the
strong, vital man he had once been.
Faint molecules of ethereal scent
punctuated the heavy, dank odor of the attic filling her nostrils, touching her
senses with vague familiarity and teasing her brain with tidbits of impossible
memories—the soft lilt of music, the lively sliver of swishing skirts, the
sound of laughter amidst a maelstrom of shapeless faces. Happy times, although
Maddie had no idea how she could have known it.
"Well, it feels like
happy times," she murmured aloud in self-correction, then realized in
amazement she couldn't possibly have knowledge of that either. Still, somehow
her spirits were lifted by the thought and her heart overwhelmed by that
singular emotion.
Her fingers caressed the delicate
gold crowned heart swinging to and fro. It had been a while since she had been
happy...felt happy.
The shadows about her unexpectedly
softened to a gentle shade of blue and Maddie snapped her gaze left to the
bewitching aura of moonlight filtering through the attic's small casement
window.
She rose from the dust-covered floor
and, slipping the delicate chain into the pocket of her sundress, moved to the
window. She gazed out onto the dark and cloudless night sky. All was deserted
save for the clear full moon that hung above her father's precious hillside
walled garden below. "A Blue Moon," she declared pensively.
The Blue Moon has a face, her father
had once told her, and at midnight it speaks to those lucky enough to hear its
voice.
Maddie had thought this merely the
ramblings of an old, sick man, for the intelligibility had long gone, but a
faraway look had crept into her father's old eyes as he fell once again
exhausted against the pillows.
"The garden is an enchanted
place under the Blue Moon," he had said. "You don't remember, Maddie,
but magic happens. Walk in the light of the Blue Moon, and you'll see. Midnight,
Maddie. Midnight," he'd said, his voice feeble with death. "Just
believe."
Maddie sighed. Right now, she wanted
to believe more than anything. She wanted to escape her life. She closed her
eyes and tried her hardest to remember.
As a child she had believed her
father's stories...Stories that had felt so tangible, so real. She opened her
eyes and gazed down into the garden. It was real. Everything.
She knew it. She could feel it, yet, why couldn't she remember it?
"Because I am no longer a
child," she murmured sadly. "Peter Pan didn't want to grow up for the
very reason I can't remember."
❤
Friday 11 September 2020
Would you judge a son by the sins of his father? Blood of His Fathers Book Two Out Now
Jessica McCormack feels she is being drawn deeper into something even more sinister, something she has no control over, but can she trust everything she has been told? Can she trust her husband, especially with Detective Inspector Drew Mahon forcing her to question her marriage to Jason McCormack?
“Jason McCormack loves no one,” Drew pressed. “He’s as cold and ruthless as his father and does nothing without a calculable reason.”
“You’re wrong.” Her voice was restrained as she spoke.
“No, I’m not,” Drew countered angrily. “Tom Addison worked for Alexander McCormack,” he practically shouted. “Do you think Jason wasn’t aware of that fact before he married you?”
She must have looked stunned, or faint or something because Drew’s face sobered with immediate contrition. She felt gutted, empty, and numb.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He pushed his fingers through his hair. “That was incredibly stupid and insensitive of me. I shouldn’t have said—”
Jess shook off the placating hand on her arm. “What do you mean? Tom was working for Alexander McCormack?”
🖤🖤#NewRelease Blood of His Fathers Book 2 #BWWMROMANCE- Out Now🖤🖤
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HT1VV37/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=blood+of+his+fathers+2&qid=1599819479&sr=8-4
#romancereads #romancenovels #romanticsuspensenovel #AfterHoursPublications #goodreads #InterracialRomance #diversereads #KU #amazonbooks #suspensenovel
Blood of His Fathers Book 2 - New Release Today
Would you judge the son by the sins of his father?
Read an excerpt
❤
Chapter One
Nassau, New Providence
Friday, March 11
Drew scrolled the name before his eyes. Bingo! Jessica McCormack didn’t want him involved in her life, that’d been evident from the terse note she’d left at the front desk of her hotel. But this case went far beyond what one woman wanted or didn’t want. His gut was telling him she was hiding something and, if she wouldn’t confide in him, then he’d just have to find out the truth for himself.
For the last two hours, he’d sat in the Research Room at the Nassau Public Records Office’s Department of Archives in the center of town, flipping through Estate Records and Deeds, Indentures, and Conveyances Records dating back to the eighteenth century, searching for—he didn’t know what. But his perseverance finally paid off.
Drew studied the old land chart, intrigued at what he saw. The old house at High Rock and the three hundred and sixty acres surrounding it had belonged to the McCormack family for generations.
“So, why would you trespass on McCormack land if you’re supposed to be running away from them, Jess?” he murmured. “What were you looking for?”
At this point, coincidence didn’t necessarily surprise him, but it was a coincidence he didn’t like. He leaned back in the chair, digesting the fact the fire now added to the mystery surrounding Jessica McCormack.
“I’m afraid we’ve not finished updating these particular records, Detective Inspector,” a voice said over his shoulder.
Drew swiveled the soft leather chair to face the curator, Mrs. Ferguson, who peered at him over the rim of her glasses.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked.
“I don’t know,” Drew said. “Something feels…I feel like something’s missing.”
“Well, if you tell me what you think is missing, maybe I can help.”
His lip curled in a wry smile. “I don’t know that either.”
That wasn’t quite true, well, not anymore. It was a long shot, but somehow, he’d hoped to find Jess’ name among these papers—something, or someone, to connect her to that old house.
“You know, a lot of the old records on the old High Rock estate have been sealed for a great many years. We’re just getting around to cataloging them. You’re welcome to take a look. They might be of more help,” Mrs. Ferguson said.
Drew rose to his feet with an appreciative nod. “Thank you.”
He followed Mrs. Ferguson to a locked door at the far end of the room. She opened it and led him down a narrow passageway and another set of downward spiraling steps.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Ferguson said, arriving at and pushing open a door in the drafty basement. She veered left and disappeared down a far aisle.
A cold mustiness hung in the air and Drew shivered. No one would guess the temperature outside was close to eighty degrees.
He waited by the door, listening to Mrs. Ferguson’s slowing footsteps. After a minute, the steps sounded again in his direction.
“Everything you need to know about the Thomas family,” Mrs. Ferguson said, handing over a medium-sized cardboard box.
“Thomas?” Drew queried. “I thought the McCormacks owned the land at High Rock.”
“They did,” Mrs. Ferguson answered. “Up until 1724. That same year the McCormack’s other plantation in Maryland was burned to the ground in a slave revolt. George McCormack owned both plantations in Maryland and on High Rock at the time. He committed, what was in those days, a cardinal sin. He fell in love with a slave that had come to High Rock from another plantation. A woman named Cordelia Thomas, and he willed the property at High Rock to the son born to her, Ben. It’s all in there,” she said, indicating the box. “Just not in the computer, yet. If you need any further help, I suggest you see Zip.”
Drew raised an eyebrow. “Zip?”
“Zip has fished these waters for the past sixty years,” Mrs. Ferguson said. “If anyone knows more about the High Rock plantation than what’s in that box, he does.”
She glanced at her watch. “You’ll find him down at St. Georges Wharf around lunchtime mending his nets before he heads out to sea. Just tell him I sent you. He’ll talk to you. But if you would tidy up before you go, I would appreciate it.”
Drew nodded his gratitude to Mrs. Ferguson for her help, and the curator left him alone, closing the door softly behind her. He opened the box and pulled out an old newspaper tucked in one corner, noting the publication and the date: The North Star, 1866.
He spied an article written by Frederick Thomas and sat down to read it.
An hour later, Drew was ready to give Mrs. Ferguson’s suggestion a try. Experience had taught him the value of conversation. Even seemingly incoherent ramblings could hold answers to otherwise inexplicable situations. He stood and replaced the documents in the box. At the moment, nothing was making any sense, and he’d already spent far too much time indoors. He had to stretch his legs, get some air and think, somehow join the dots, although he couldn’t help but feel he was still missing something—a huge part of some elaborate puzzle.
He didn’t like the sea—he never had—and as he neared the wharf and breathed in the nauseous taste of raw eggs and bloody, metallic smell of fresh fish, he was reminded of exactly why. He surveyed the scene before him and tried to control his rising nausea.
Colorful, shabby boats laden with the morning’s catch bobbed alongside the wharf: Fish of every variety of size and color, and conch, their smooth, pink coral shells, glistening in the intense sunlight.
Tourists milled around with a mixture of curiosity and awe, watching the fishermen gut and fillet their morning catch with breathtaking swiftness and expert efficiency. Large sea birds vied for the portions of discarded innards thrown their way.
Drew swallowed deeply and moved toward the blue fishing boat moored at the other end of the wharf where, he’d been told, he would find Zip. An old man sat with his back to him, mending a net.
“Zip?” He said.
The man answered without turning around. “Who wants to know?”
“I’m Detective Inspector Drew Mahon. Mrs. Ferguson at the Public Records Office said you could probably help me. I’m—”
“You’re English,” the old man stated. He kept his back to Drew.
“Yes, and I would like your help.”
“About what?”
“The Thomas plantation at High Rock. Mrs. Ferg—”
The old man turned and leveled worldly eyes and a seasoned face on Drew. He pointed a dark, crooked finger at the length of rope secured about an iron palisade.
“Get the rope, will you? If you want to talk, come aboard.”
He disappeared into the boat’s wheelhouse, and the engine started. “Are you coming?” He called out.
The vessel bobbed on the lapping tide, and even as his stomach started to regret the decision before he’d even made it, Drew took a deep breath and jumped aboard the Sea Conch. The old man chuckled softly, handed him a cup of some strange brew, and maneuvered the vessel out toward the open water.
❤
Wednesday 9 September 2020
Tuesday 8 September 2020
Saturday 5 September 2020
Friday 4 September 2020
Thursday 3 September 2020
Wednesday 2 September 2020
Tuesday 1 September 2020
Sunday 23 August 2020
Saturday 22 August 2020
Friday 21 August 2020
Blood of His Fathers - Now Available on Amazon - Excerpt 3
Click the link to buy
“I’m going against my father for you,” he said.
“And you want me to show my gratitude by
sleeping with you?” She asked without facing him.
“No! You’re attracted to me as much as I am to
you, Jessica.”
“I divorced Tom because I…it doesn’t mean I want
you.”
She turned around, leveling her gaze on Jason.
“This house is large enough for us to never have to see each other. You can
come and go as you please with anyone you choose. All I ask, in regard to Jake,
is a little discretion.”
“Oh, so I can fuck anyone and everyone else
except the one woman I desire. Is that it?”
Jess flinched at the venom in his voice.
“You make it sound as if I want to be here.
Yesterday, we both uttered vows that neither of us believed in because we
married for all the wrong reasons. Your father forced this situation on us.
Neither one of us has the right to demand fidelity of the other.”
She swung back toward the window, swiping at the
sudden tears falling down her cheeks. She wanted this over before she lost her
heart completely.
“Perhaps at a certain moment, the line between
us became blurred. It’s not anymore.”
Jess jumped, whirling around, as the kitchen
door thundered shut.
Wednesday 19 August 2020
New Release Out Now!
Blood of His Fathers - Bwwm romance - Out Now!
Free w/ kindle unlimited or just $0.99
Read an excerpt
Tuesday 18 August 2020
Monday 17 August 2020
Blood of His Fathers Coming August 19! Excerpt 2
Jason watched her stir next to him, her skin radiant in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window. If anyone told him a week ago, he’d be married, have a son, and be totally enamored by his wife, he would’ve laughed. He would’ve placed a bet on it, in fact, because the chance would’ve been nil to none. But he’d not counted on meeting Jessica Addison.
His eyes followed the graceful incline of her
thighs to the exposed smooth curve of hip that narrowed fluidly and dipped to a
slender and taut waistline.
The dark blue satin sheet was draped seductively
across the flawless flesh of her stomach, and he drew deeply as his gaze swept
her partially covered breasts. He wanted her again, to hear her sob with
pleasure and feel her tremble against him. To know she wanted him as much as he
wanted her.
He steeled himself against the overwhelming
desire to touch her and kiss her parted lips.
His father was behind Tom’s death. He was tying
up loose ends, reminding him he could get to Jessica whenever and wherever he
wanted. His marriage to her had indeed prompted the desired effect. It’d forced
his father’s hand, yet he wasn’t wholly prepared for the consequences.
Then, there was Detective Inspector Drew Mahon’s
dogged determination to see him behind bars for literally just being his
father’s son.
Jason reached to brush away the silky errant
strand covering Jess’ face. Her eyes opened directly into his.
“You’re here. I was afraid I’d dreamed this.”
He dipped his head and brushed his lips lightly
across hers. “It was no dream. I’m here.”
She touched a finger to his brow and smoothed
the skin there. “What’s the matter?”
His fingers gently skimmed the smooth contour of
a partially exposed breast. “There’s something I need to tell you, Jessica,
about me. About my father.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
She shook her head, placing her fingers against
his lips. “Give me this night for us. Please.” She smiled sadly. “Let me hate
you tomorrow if I must.”
“I want you to know it was never my intention to
hurt you, Jessica.”
“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes shone bright
with her tears. “But you’re going to do it anyway and destroy us when we’ve
only just begun. I thought tonight meant something to you.”
“It does. You know it does.”
Jess turned from him. “Couldn’t you have grown a
conscience before we had sex?”
He gently drew her back to face him. “We didn’t
have sex. We made love.”
“Is there a difference then?”
“Yes,” he said, pushing a knee gently between
hers. “Someday, I’ll show you the difference.”
He kissed her and pulled her close as he felt
her fear and tasted her tears. “I’ll move heaven and earth to make it right
again between us.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I just want you to give me the chance, Jessica.
Promise me.” She nodded. “No. Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I promise,” she said, parting her thighs and
welcoming him into the moist warmth of her body with the fierceness of his own
possession. “Whatever it is, make me understand,” she whispered. “Make me
listen.”
Tuesday 11 August 2020
Coming Soon - Blood of His Fathers - Excerpt 1
Excerpt
Chapter One
Manchester, England
Friday, February 26
Jessica Addison looked out the first-class compartment window onto the monotonous streak of black tunnel wall flashing by, pleased she hadn’t been stuck with unwanted company for the entire two and a half hour of her train journey. In less than fifteen minutes she would reach her destination. There was no turning back. It was foolish to feel this way, but she was more than a little nervous about attending her high school reunion. She tugged her coat tighter about her body and crossed her legs at the knees.
What would her old-classmates think of her now? How long had it been since she last saw any of them—fourteen, maybe fifteen years? She released a silent breath. They weren’t her friends. None of them had ever been her friends. She didn’t have friends.
Her eyes focused on her reflection in the tinted window. Except for the barest touch of lip gloss she wore no further make-up. The insecure, spotty schoolgirl with large owl-like glasses was gone and in her place was a woman who’d grown in confidence these last few years. A woman who believed in herself far more than she’d ever done before.
She tightened her fists until her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. Despite her newfound strength one thing hadn’t changed, her fear of dark enclosed spaces. She closed her eyes and wished the tunnel would hurry and come to an end.
For most of her life she’d been afraid. Afraid to live, afraid to love…afraid to give her heart and she knew who was to blame for that. Her mother. Her ex-husband, Tom, on the other hand, had thought the explanation a little less complicated. She was simply incapable of loving herself or anybody else, he’d said. Isn’t that why their marriage had failed?
Tom loved her. That’d been evident in his every look and touch, yet the more Tom had wanted her the more she couldn’t help but despise him for it.
Jess grimaced. Marriage to Tom had been neither her desire nor her decision. He’d simply entered her life when she’d been vulnerable and her own happiness had meant nothing. But she’d never imagined she would be the one to hurt him.
She’d tried to make their relationship work and for six years Tom had been enough. But she couldn’t prevent the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘what could’ve been’ from rising up between them. Or stop the pervasive mist of regret from chilling her heart.
It shocked her that she could still remember her first lover. Still hear his voice whispering to her in the darkness, still feel his weight crushing her as she became a woman in his arms. If only she could go back in time and relive that moment. To have the confidence to believe his words and the courage to say yes to all he’d offered. She shouldn’t have runaway.
The train slowed, its wheels screeching and grinding softly along the track. Jess clasped her hands firmly together on her lap. It was absurd. She hadn’t even remembered his name, but one night, so many nights ago, he’d taken a part of her that Tom could never make whole.
❤
Thursday 6 August 2020
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