Let Me Tell You A Tale… Wk #1. “It Was The First Time I Killed A Man”#amwriting #crimefiction #thriller

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You voted for the writing prompt “ it was the first time I killed a man” so Didi and I responded. This is OVER 18 READING!  The prompt was both of our favourite, so thank you! We’ve had a ball, remember we never discuss the way the story should go. Author A writes her part and hands it to author B to finish. I just wanna say, I personally am so happy my path has crossed with Didi. I enjoyed her novel Aggravated Momentum and she is an excellent thriller and suspense writer.  I hope we are life long practice writing buddies to perfect our craft in our genre no matter where our careers take us. What caught our attention over each other’s suspense novels? The writing style! LOL.  Can you guess who wrote what? Comments and feedback welcome!

One thing Didi and I love are strong women, no matter the age, race, sexuality we salute them all! … we present  to you a woman that falls into this category no matter what she has done in the past, she’s strong and powerful in her own way…. it’s Lisa Vanacilli!

Enjoy

It Was the First Time I Killed a Man…

 

Scene One – Author A

June 1962, New York Supreme Court.

 “Look at her she’s so full of herself. She did it John, trust me she’s guilty as sin.”

“Hmm, yeah I agree. But the jury that’s the problem buddy. We got a couple-a Hispanics, one Jamaican and an Italian-American, they’ll probably be on her side. Their kind always stick together.”

“Fuck that, and fuck them. We got this we’re the best prosecution attorneys this side of New York.”

 

I sit in the witness stand with my hands cuffed behind my back, sandwiched in between two cops. A lopsided menacing smile slowly creeps across my lips, as I stare out at the jury in front of me.  I glance over and see ‘em whisperin’ again. Look at these two smart ass prosecution attorneys tryin’ to pin shit on me. What- a pair-a dicks! My wrists are freakin’ killin’ me. Exactly how far do they think I can run with my hands and feet shackled together?… But then again, last time I was here I gave them every reason to anticipate an escape, with my “erratic” behavior as the judge called it. This time they cuffed me. Bunch-a schmucks.

 

The court house is packed today, seems like everyone this side of the Brooklyn Bridge came out to witness my fate. The first woman on trial for first degree murder, in the state of New York. I guess that makes me a celebrity ‘round these parts. I laugh out loud at my own private joke.  The jury look up at me wonderin’ what my outburst of laughter is about, they can go ta’ hell, kiss my ass for all I care. With unsettled looks on their faces they stare. I smile my sweetest sarcastic smile for them, right before I put my poker face on show. There’s no emotion, just pure hatred. Look at them, they make me sick all of them. The women sit an’ fan themselves, with their faces pinched up like there’s a bad smell in the air an’ their shit comes out smellin’ roses. With their cheap shoes on show, who the fuck are they to judge me? They could at least dress for the occasion, before they sit there and play God with my fuckin’ fate. I stare hard at their pathetic faces, there’s no smell in this joint it’s me. That’s the effect I have on women these days, given everythin’ they read in the headlines ‘bout me. A distasteful slut, that’s how the see me. To them I’m the kinda woman you lock your husband up from. As for the men, well I guess I still look cute in my orange jumpsuit and unmade up face. I see them watchin.’ For my own amusement, I give the short fat juror, with the bald patch an’ badly fitted brown suit on the back row a wink across the court house. He shifts with embarrassment in his seat. Ha!  I still got it.

 

I raise my chin and pout, with attitude I flick my frizzy blonde mane of hair back as I shake my head. My eyes dart around the stuffy court house, with its dirt brown walls and worn out seats. I watch one of the prosecuting attorneys adjust his tie and wipe the perspiration from his brow. That’s right, sweat you piece-a shit. I glance over to the left, I watch the judge shift his paperwork and then pick up his pen. He looks out at the courthouse over his glasses…It’s show time.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury all rise please.”

“All rise please. That includes you, Ms. Vanacilli.”

I tease the judge.

“Sorry I mus-ta  been in my own lil’ world, sir.”

“Ouch not so rough Mr. if you wanna handle me like that big guy … now’s not the time or place.”

I giggle as I flirt with the cop on my right, tugging at my arm forcing me to my feet.

“Ms. Vanacilli! May I remind you’re in a court of law, and your best behavior is expected at all times. Now please rise.”

I smile sweetly at the judge and get to my feet, as the cop next to me grabs my shoulder. The judge turns his attention back to the jurors.

“Juror number one please step forward.”

Some Italian broad with bright pink lipstick, and a skirt a few inches too short, eases herself slowly out of her chair. Nice shade, I wonder what range her lipstick is from? I remain confident they got nothin’ on me, I’ll be out and head over to Macey’s to check out all the latest lipsticks. I’ll see if I can get me a shade just like hers. The thought makes me smile as I look juror number one up and down, admiring her knee-high boots and beehive hairdo.

Juror number one shuffles out toward the stand. She looks over at me, she’s scared. I can tell when fear is oozing from a person, now that shit turns me on. Men, women, don’t matter, there’s just something about a certain frightened vulnerability in a person’s eye that heats up my core. The judge’s flat tone rings out across the courtroom.

“How do you find the defendant Ms. Lisa Vanacilli, guilty or not guilty of first degree murder?”

The judge fixes the juror with a stern look as he folds his large hands, and then rests his elbows on the table. Suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked from the room, as everyone holds their breath. Now if this snatch makes the wrong move, I swear to Lucifer I’ll kill the bitch. I’ll get her mama too she better come correct. All of them dumb fucks better have fallen for my sweet lil’ miss innocent act.

“Sir, we the jury find Ms. Vanacilli … guilty of murder of the first degree by an unanimous vote.”

With a stone cold stare my eyes penetrate right through juror number one. My unbrushed bleach blonde frizzy mane with dark roots, and menacing stare scare the shit outta her. She moves her eyes away from me quickly as she shuffles back to her seat. Fuckin’ traitor, I should-a known. It seems like us Italians don’t stick together no mo’.  Right there and then in the packed courthouse I lose my shit. With my hands behind my back I cry out in protest over this dumb bitch’s verdict.

Guilty? Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?”

“Ms. Vanacilli can you refrain from such language and pipe down!”

I ignore the bald douchebag judge, and address the jury personally. I turn to them and spit my venom as the cops hold me back.

“Guilty my fuckin’ ass. Yo, let me tell ya’ll you ain’t got NO FREAKIN’ idea ‘bout the shit he put me through.”

I hack up a load of phlegm and spit, aiming for that bitch juror. I miss and hit the prosecuting attorney right on the shoulder. Good, he’s dead too, the schmuck.  Sitting there with that smug look on his face. I’d like to see that look change when he wakes up in a bathtub of hot water, with yours truly holdin’ an electric radiator over his fuckin’ dumb shit for brains face and body. I’d then make sure he’s unrecognizable as I burn his face off, before send him home to his slut of a wife. That’ll wipe that smile off his face. The vision and thought arouses me again. God, I wish I could touch myself, I gotta’ control myself, I squeeze my thighs together and smirk. Yeah, I got plans for you if I ever get out of this joint Mr. Attorney.

The cops restrain me and wrestle me to my seat. My breathing gets deeper as the anger rises within me. I feel it from the tips of my toes, to the last strand of my fizzy mane.

The judge turns his attention back at me. I ignore him as I stare out every one of the jurors who had the balls to find me guilty. Okay, so I did do it… I killed him. But that’s our secret for now.

 

“Ms. Vanacilli on June 19th 1962, at New York Supreme Court you’ve been found guilty of murder in the first degree.”

I move my eyes back over to the judge.

“Yeah, no shit. I heard ya’ the first time smart ass.”

The judge impatiently pinches the bridge of his nose and pauses his lips.

“Ms. Vanacilli, I sentence you to the death penalty. Capital punishment, by means of electrocution.”

My raspy deep voice echoes across the court room as everyone releases their breath.

“The death penalty, ah c’mon don’t fuck around you gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Take her away, gentlemen.”

The judge waves his hand and dismisses me like a fly buzzing around a piece- a dog shit on the hot New York sidewalk. Dumb and dumber drag me out of the courtroom kickin’ and screamin’ language so obscene…. it be a sin to repeat it. The cunts. They’re all gonna pay every one of ‘em.

 

 

January 1972, Federal Medical Center Carswell, Fort Worth Texas

 

I bring my mind back to the present day after I relive my day in court ten years ago, upstate in New York. I was just thirty years old at the time. Now I’m a forty year old woman and I look every year of it. Gone are my bleach blonde locks and high cheekbones. I’m a dull brunette, salted with gray, and the wrinkles came on strong years ago. This place ages you, the same ol’ same ol’ day in day out. For the last ten years I’ve been rooted here in this piss hole of a hospital, awaiting my big death day. With all the bullshit politics and capital punishment changes, my case has been tossed around for years. Who knows what they’ll do. They didn’t ban the electric chair ‘til after my trial, but I still lucked out on that. Now they’re probably just keep me alive, waitin’ around for ‘em to grow the balls to finally stick some poisonous needle in my fuckin’ arm.

I move my eyes over the cops an’ camera men behind the screen, separatin’ me an’ the pretty lil’ reporter sitting in front of me. I’ve lost count over the years how many times I’ve been asked the same questions. Why did I do it? What made me do it? Now, I’ve got Ms. Prissy with her pink lipgloss and perfectly styled hair in front- a me, tryin’ ta’ break me for a confession. She’s cute, I wonder where she’s from. She looks Latino to me.  I like them ethnic ones. Somethin’ a lil exotic and curvy. I wouldn’t mind kissing off all that lipgloss she has on. My eyes move over her perky tits in her silk white blouse, wonderin’ if they’re as perky without a bra. Humm, I admire the curve of her tits as she blushes. I spy a nipple poking through the silk of her blouse. I lick my lips and pout, I like this one. I wonder if her lil’ hot spot tastes as good as she looks.

Don’t mind me, ten years with nothin’ but lady curves on display in an all-female maximum security hospital, for the “criminally insane” as they like-ta call yours truly or those with anti-social personalities, makes you see a woman differently. I never looked at another woman sexually, before they locked me up in this joint. Over the years, the reporters have thought up all kinda shit to sell papers, an’ paint a picture of me as a female murderer on death row. The notoriety I have among the new young female inmates, who hear about me on the outside before they were dumb enough to get caught doing whatever shit it was that got them here is a thrill. I convert ‘em all, one by one. It’s a personal pleasure for me ya’ see. The young ones swagger in here, thinking they’re the shit, tough and ball-breaking.  Give ‘em a month­­— if that. I’ll have my way with ‘em when the lights are out. Down on their knees in front of me, with my legs spread and their pretty faces buried between my thighs worshiping me like their life depends on it, tellin’ me how good I taste. They aint so tough then, they’re like putty in my hands as I tame ‘em, show ‘em who is the alpha female. I love-ta groom ‘em so they know how to please a demanding bitch like me. There’s nothing more satisfying than a woman’s touch, her tongue is much more in tune with how to please a woman’s pussy. I like them long, slow, licks both givin’ and receivin.’ Thoughts of what I’d do with Ms.  Lipgloss run through my mind as I give her my full attention while she questions me.

“Ms. Vanacilli, can you tell me a bit about your background? You’re an Italian American I understand, your family immigrated to Brooklyn when you were just one years old. Are you in contact with your family?

I ignore her question. I raise an eyebrow and blow her a kiss, like I said I’m feelin’ this pretty one.

“What shade lipgloss do you have on?  Ms… I never caught your name.”

Ha! I watch the heat rise within her at my unexpected question. Even with her beautifully tanned skin I can see a pink glow move across her face. She smooths over her jet-black curls, and clears her throat. She tries to gather herself as I eye her tits lustfully.

Hmm, she looks so good I almost feel weak. You don’t get ‘em this fine on the inside. I bet she smells real fresh an’ clean. I look her up and down from behind the glass. She’s well- groomed in appearance her makeup is perfect, I remember when I use- ta look like that. Her legs are crossed at the knee an’ a tight black skirt nicely hugs her. I wonder if she’ll part her legs for me? I’m not greedy, just a bit so I can see what’s between her thighs. I imagine she’s got a nice pair-a lace panties on for me. I gotta thing for women in lace lingerie, I cut out all the pictures from the magazines an’ stick ‘em on my wall. Blonde, brunette, Asian, African- American, Latino I take ‘em all, I got me a girlfriend for every night a-the week on my wall. Stockings an’ suspenders are my favorite, with a pair-a the highest heels and no bra. Shit, I’m ganna make myself explode. In a low voice she pushes again.

“Ms. Vanacilli, if you could answer the question, tell me about you?… And why did you do it?”

“Is that what you think, I did it? You don’t believe my story? When I was on trial sweetpea, you were probably barely out of high school. Have you done your research?”

Again she blushes.

“Yes Ms. Vanacilli––”

I cut her off.

“Call me Lisa, don’t make me feel old with this Ms. Vanicelli bullshit.”

I smile sweetly and move my eyes back down to her tits.  She crosses her arms across her chest to hide herself, as she pulls herself up straight in her chair. She looks me in the eye. What a brave heart she is, reminds me of the young female inmates I tame, can’t resist them.

“Lisa, please if you could please answer my questions.”

She has nice eyes, green not bad. I wonder how old she is? I sigh, I’ll drop the insane murderer guard, just once and give her somethin’ to work with. Somethin’ to run back and type up a report on. Or sell to the magazines. I lean forward and dramatically eye her deep cleavage once more before I lock eyes with her.  Have you ever stared into the eyes of a murderer? Would you be fazed? Ms. Lipgloss holds her ground, can’t beat a strong woman.

“No sweetpea, my family disowned me years ago. My father’s probably dead by now or buried in some tramp’s pussy. My mom’s was always strung out on some kinda drug with her mouth locked around whatever pimp’s cock she could find to feed her habit. No matter what they tell you, or what you read, none of the stories ‘bout my perfect family are true. The mean streets of Brooklyn raised me. You wanna know what happened? You wanna know why I did it.. I’m ganna tell you a tale, it was the first time I killed a man.

Scene two Author B

And no, I’m not talkin’ about that cock suckin’ woman beater that I got locked away for killin’ either. That ship has sailed.”

Ms. Lipgloss perks up in her chair, her big green eyes suddenly widen. I can see the wheels turning in her head. She wasn’t expecting that bombshell. The apparent excitement in her face starts heatin’ me up in the middle. Fuck it. I’ve already been denied any kind of appeal, and all my attempts at escape so far have ended very bad for me. I guess it’s time to accept my fate. I’m already on death row, what more can they do? If I’m ever going to tell my secrets, it might as well be to this sexy ass reporter. All the rest have been dull, uptight bitches. Ten whole years and all they’ve ever sent to interview me are nasty old hags or fat sloppy men who probably couldn’t even keep their cocks hard for more than a couple a’ pumps.

“Lisa, are you telling me there are more?”

She leans forward with the question, allowing me to see even farther into the depths of her chest. I lick my lips before looking back up into her excited face. Apparently, I hit some kinda’ nerve. There’s a spark of adventure in her eyes. It’s the exact same spark I saw written all over the first woman I ever bent from straight in this place. That bitch was perfect. She tasted like a fuckin’ ice cream cone. I lean back in my metal chair with a smirk. I put my hands behind my head as my chains crash around on the tiled floor beside me. Should I really give it to her? Should I get Ms. Lipgloss the big break she’s been lookin’ for?

“I aint tellin’ you nothin til I get your name.” I push her even further, “and a peek of ya tits while we’re at it.”

“Excuse me?”

Clearly she’s both offended and intrigued.

“I’m not showing you anything.”

“Well then sweetpea, I’m not tellin’ you anythin’.”

“Damnit.”

She mouthed to herself.

Little Ms. Lipgloss shakes her head slightly in disbelief. Sitting on my side of the glass, I enjoy the show. This story’s gunna’ be huge for her. I know it will be. I’m the first female murderer on death row, and there’s shit even the cops don’t know ‘bout. It’s 1962 an’ all ‘em female serial killers that follow will salute me! I’m fuckin’ God to the tabloid papers of New York, I’m the first fuckin’ lady. The names Vanacilli straight outta Brooklyn, New York don’t forget it.

I’ve thought about what I’ve done every day for nearly fifteen since my first kill. The look in all their faces as I bled ‘em out. If I’m gunna’ set this little tart up for a mind blowing career then she’s gotta’ give me somethin’. My life and my secrets don’t come without a price.

“Isn’t there anything else we can arrange?”

She pleaded.

“Off the record, Lisa, I need this fucking story. What do you have to lose?  I can try and get you anything you want. Isn’t there some kind of food, or entertainment you want before they knock you off anyway?”

“Do I look like I give a shit ‘bout bein’ on or off record?”

She shook her head no.

I raise my voice and get up close to the glass.

“Nope, that’s right. All I care ‘bout right now is seein’ your tits sweetpea”

I reply with a full grin. I lower my voice. The pleading is so damn sexy, an’ I don’t wanna scare this sweet thang too much.

“You’re welcome to keep beggin’ too though. I like watching your mouth move.”

I give her a wink.

A new side of this sexy reporter finally comes to the surface. There’s a take charge air about her an’ I can feel myself wetten under this fuckin’ orange jumpsuit. God I wish there wasn’t any glass between us. I’d lick her entire body first like a creamsicle, an’ then I’d show her what a real orgasm feels like. I nearly lose my shit again, with excitement as I watch the girl start barking orders at the rest of the news crew. Of course on the outside I keep my cool, poker face persona I’m so well known for.

“Turn off all the damn cameras.”

She demands.

“Look away, and you all better edit out every fucking part of the conversation leading up to now. Everyone understand?”

I glance around the room before me. Eger nods of encouragement and excited smiles meet the faces of her crew. There are three men with her. These bunch-a dicks don’t deserve to be blessed with a look at her perfect tits, jealously boils within me. Each one’s standin’ behind bulky cameras on giant wheeled tripods, ready to capture every angle of myself an’ of her. They came here hoping for a success, but they have no damn clue what they’re actually in for. I’m not sure yet if I’m gunna reveal one kill or all five. I can’t wait to see these nosey men cringe at my past.

After tossing her notebook onto the piss yellow tiles of the floor, she stands up. Black four inch heels laced to her feet add length to those perfect legs. They’re toned an’ tan. Even through her skirt I can tell she’s got a slight gap between her thighs. It’s my favorite shape of a woman.

“My name is Tiffany. And, are you sure there isn’t some other way?”

Her voice cracks slightly, heavy with irritation and nerves.

“Don’t be shy sweetpea.”

I tell her, I lean forward to press my cuffed hands against the window.

“I wanna’ see ‘em both. And I want you to push them up on the glass too.”

The guard behind me coughs loudly into a closed fist before barking orders in my direction.

“Keep your hands in your lap Ms.Vanacilli!” bitch.

“It’s fine,”

Tiffany tells my guard.

“Whatever gets me this story is fine. Let’s just please keep this quiet, okay?”

I watch closely as my pretty little glossed lip puppet complies to my request.  She stands up in her four inch heels and tight black skirt. I watch as she removes her white silk blouse, and white lace bra, her tits fall out. I bark at her.

“Get up to the glass sweetpea an’ push ‘em up nice an’ close. Raise ya hands above ya head for me too. Keep ya legs nice an’ wide, there’s a good girl.”

From behind the glass I get up close again an’ look her in the eye. I press my cuffed hands against the glass as I lick where her perfect tits are placed. She looks down an’ watches me. I give each one a long, wet, slow ice cream cone lick. My hands travel down the glass to her hot spot an’ I drop to my knees.

“Ms. Vanacilli get back now!”

I roll my eyes an’ bark over my shoulder.

“Fuckin’ party pooper! You pissin’ on my party or what, huh?”

“On your chair, please.”

The guard shouts.

Now if it were not for my guard, Ms. Lipgloss be bent over touching her ankles so I can get a look at her Latin curves from behind, in that tight skirt. Them Latinos are my weakness, they swagger in here to start their time as female inmates with their curvy asses and I wanna touch myself every time.

I sigh and get to my feet as my chains crash against to floor.  I soften my face as I look into her eyes and whisper.

“Pucker up sweetpea gimme a kiss.”

She presses her lips up to the glass without hesitation, I think she likes the attention. I kiss Ms. Lipgloss on the mouth from behind the glass and look her square in the eye, she breathes deeply. With her hands above her head still and her tits pressed up against the glass. In just her black skirt an’ heels I watch the rise an’ fall of her shoulders an’ chest.

As I sit back in my seat my hands move back to my lap, but they’re far from still. I press a couple fingers on my clit through the thick cotton fabric of my jumpsuit. With heavy breath, I push and swirl while I stare at the meaty flesh pressed up against the window. Even her nipples are perfect, tiny little things. Her voice rings in like a bell, much softer than everything else she’s said so far. It’s as if she’s finally given into me – accepted the connection.

“Are we done?” She asks my permission to put her own tits away. She’s a damn fast learner my permission is needed, that’s right.

I nod up at her first, and then I lean my head back and close my eyes. I use the buildup of the moment, and let it carry me away. As I continue to give myself pleasure. I let my mind wander to a different time. A place from my past that I often visit in memory just as I’m on the verge of crashing into orgasm. It’s the story I’ll tell her. My first and all-time favorite kill. The cause of my death addiction. The reason I’m here in the fuckin’ first place. Finally, my body explodes from the inside out. I open my eyes back up, catch my breath, and let my mouth mold into a satisfied grin.  Ms. Lipgloss looks at me stunned, they all fuckin’ do. I laugh out loud and blow her another kiss.

“Alright it’s show time sweetpea, grab ya paper an’ pen.”

 

 

August 1957, Manhattan night club. Five years before the murder trial.

 

The place is thick with a fresh sweaty stink mixed with a swirl of Vodka and expensive perfume. It’s a classy little dance club, with the most beautiful jazz music blaring from a small corner stage. It’s not usually my style to let rich drunk men rub up against me on a dance floor. Especially after dousing myself in sticky glitter skin paste, and while tripping over my own feet in tall bulky platforms. I can hardly stay standing, and every time I trip over myself I get more and more pissed off at the evening.

I let a girlfriend-a mine talk me into comin’  here, to hook up with some douchebag she met while servin’ cocktails a few nights ago. He promised to bring a friend for me, an’ said I wouldn’t have to buy any a’ my own drinks all night. So fuck it, I couldn’t pass up the free alcohol.

I glance down the length of the bar at my date as he pushes through the crowd in ma’ direction. He’s a slob. Just ‘cause he’s got money don’t make him any better than all the rest of the perverted violent dicks I’ been with. After a lifetime of public groping and countless trips to the emergency room after a good beating, I’ve pretty much come to terms with the reality of men. Or at least the men I always wind up exposed to. I wanna kill one. I always have. I’ve been witness to a few murders and nothing after came outta it. Most men deserve it, especially one like my date. They have it coming.

His name is Steven, an’ he reminds me of a boyfriend I had just outta’ high school named Ramone. Steven has the exact same frame. He’s wide in the shoulders with lengthy legs an’ a broad arm span. Ramone taught me the hard way ‘bout how hard a man with long arms can throw a punch. He also introduced me to the painful feel of a ribcage kick delivered by the foot attached to such long muscular legs. Those beatings usually happened only moments before he raped me repeatedly. Sometimes even in front-a  his careless pig friends. I grimace at the memory then swallow my double shot a’ Tequila in one gulp. It’s my fourth one so far, an’ I’m already startin’ to feel it.

The more I drink, the more I fantasize ‘bout it, every single time. Especially when I drink Tequila. I watch Steven move, his tight pants exposing the outline of his cock. I picture it as Ramone’s, jabbing into me while I slipped in and out of consciousness. Fuck Ramone, and fuck Steven too. Tonight, might be the night. I think I’m finally gunna to do it. The image of a knife slicing across Steven’s neck causes a heavy pulse between my legs, an’ my nipples harden with excitement.

Steven is finally able to close the gap between us. He slips a large arm ‘round my waist then forces his big curious hand ‘round my ass cheek and squeezes – too hard. This dick has no clue what he’s in for. One more ass or tittie grab, an’ I’m doing it. Fuck it. I been dreamin’ this long enough.  It’s time for action.

Steven turns his attention to the bar tender.

“We’ll each have another double, sexy.”

“Sure,”

She beamed at him like some kinda fuckin’ groupie.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

He breathed heavily down my neck.

This is my chance, I thought, it’s now or never.

“I’d love to.”

I grinned.

“My apartment’s actually within walking distance.” I lied.

“Just let me use the bathroom first, an’ I’ll meet you outside.”

“Then do it. I’m ready to fuck you already!”

Steven said as he smacked my ass hard enough to nearly knock me over an’ started for the door.

I take a giant step forward an’ grab ahold of a barstool to keep my balance. What a schmuck. An eerie excitement starts poolin’ in my belly as I take a piss. I’m finally gonna’ do it. Tonight’s the night I’m gonna take a life, my mind is made up. I’m gonna’ kill this ass grabbing disrespectful piece-a shit. The steps I need to take swirl round my head. I have to be smart ‘bout this. One can’t just go on murderin’ people without a plan.

Sounds of the pulsating music blast through the air. Confidently, I use the baby blue ceramic soap dish by the sink to shatter a corner of the large mirror on the wall. I slip a decent sized chunk of glass under my skirt, secure in place against my skin by the elastic of my panties. It’ll be easily accessible when the timin‘s right, yet no one’ll ever notice it. The bulky belt over my skirt does a great job at keepin’ the glass outta’ sight.

After findin’ my friend an’ tellin’ her a lie ‘bout my date leavin’ me for another woman. I promise her I’ll be careful.

“It’s fine.”

I shout at her over the beat.

“I’m just ganna find a ride an’ go home.”

“Are you sure?” she yelled back.

“Ya! You just have fun! There’s a buncha’ cabs lined up outside.”

She bought the story an’ brushed me off without any more thought. She just keeps swaying intimately with the cocktail douche. They haven’t even taken their eyes off each other all night. It’s fuckin’ sick if you ask me.

I find Steven waiting by the side of the club. He’s already wandered off, away from any crowd unnoticed. Not a soul has seen us together outside the place, an’ as far as his buddy knows, he left with another girl a long time ago. Fuckin’ easy. The Tequila runs wild in my veins an’ I’m surging with a drunken anticipation. The broken glass in my panties’ elastic I felt with every step I took, it practically burned a hole in my flesh. I smiled to myself. The very second I approached him, the degrading began. It’s just enough to confirm my decision.

“I hope you’re good at sucking cock.”

He says, but not before giving a breast a hard enough squeeze to leave bruises on the top side. He leaned into me, pressing my body against the brick frame of the club. We’re in the alleyway an’ it’s dark. Very dark. I’m tempted to do the job right here an’ now, but I restrained myself.  Too risky here. Steven kisses my neck an’ then bit it.  Not quite hard enough to break skin, but it hurt nonetheless. A deep moan rumbled in his throat. I wiggled out from beneath him and force a wanting smile.

“Of course I know how to suck cock.”

I told him, my secret stuck to the back of my mind.

“Let’s just get to my apartment, Steven, an’ I promise you’re in for a surprise.”

I flashed him the most seductive smile I could conjure an’ then I started walking farther into the alley, away from the club. Steven followed me like an excited puppy. He’s ready to get his cock wet, an’ I’m ready to experience my first kill.

“Steven. Can I wear your jacket, until we get there?” I asked.

“It’s freezing out here an’ this outfit aint covering much.”

“Ugh,” he groans, wholly irritated.

“I guess, are we getting close?”

“Ya, almost there.” I lied.

I turned down another dark alley just two blocks from the club. His jacket now hanging from my shoulders. It reached all the way down to my knees, coverin’ my clothing completely. This is perfect! I turned and look at him.

“You know what. Why wait?”

I motion him over to me with a curled pointer finger.

“Why don’t you just come over here, an’ fuck me now?”

Steven doesn’t say a word at my invitation. He only smiles and then shoves me with both hands against another dirty brick wall. My back slammed against it causing the wind to unload from my lungs in one painful huff. He buried his face in the curve of my neck an’ collarbone, breathing heavy an’ reaching for the backs of my thighs. I unbuckle his pants as quickly as my hands will go an’ then reach up the front of my own skirt. I’m able to grab the piece of glass, using the sleeve of his jacket to conceal it in my tiny hand.

I then let Steven rip my panties to the side an’ force himself in. I’m so wet from the excitement an’ anticipation, it doesn’t take me long to teeter the edge. Just as my stomach pools with the buildup an’ my body begins to crash ‘round him, I use every bit of strength I have to force the broken glass into his neck. One quick jab, ‘nd the entire arm of his jacket is soaked with the wet scarlet fluid. It shoots from his neck in pulses. My leg twitched as I finished up, while watching the shock and pain in Steven’s face.

He dropped almost instantly to his knees, his cock pulled outta of me in the process. Quickly I stepped aside, giving him room to lay flat an’ twitch his final movements. The last thing I needed was this piece of shit’s blood all over these stupid fuckin’ platform shoes.

The cover up is easy. Much easier than I ever even dreamed of. I drop his jacket to the ground beside his dead body and stepped away clean. No blood seeped through, my clothing was spotless. The quick walk back to the club is made in no time at all, an’ I took a cab home, just like I told my friend I would in the first place.

I sit in the back seat of the car, wholly satisfied in every way. I move my eyes back over to Ms. Lipgloss. Her mouth is open in complete shock and her eyebrows almost reach the freakin’ ceilin’.

“And that, sweetpea was the first time I killed a man.”

Who wants part #2?? we loved creating this crazy ass woman 🙂

By Kim Knight Romantic Suspense and Thriller Author  ( London, UK) & Didi Oviatt Suspense and Thriller Author ( Utah, USA).

 

Telling-Tales-Weekly-Challenege-Kim-&-Didi

Next week: Hop on over to Didi’s author site, she’ll be in the drivers seat with the voting poll. The poll will be up on Wednesday 24th May 2017. Please join in and vote in our next writing prompt to deliver next Tuesday. 🙂

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge Didi and I by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday well post a voting pole with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.)
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt you chose!
 
All comments on the story posts will be open. We love feedback, and I’m willing to bet you will never guess who wrote what!!   Therein a challenge of your own! (Yes, one of us writes in British English, and one of us in American. We are well aware, and ready for some trickery. Trust me, we are brilliant at adapting styles.)

Havana Heat Has Entered A Writing Competition & You Can Read It For Free! #amreading #romance #free

Okay guys, call me crazy. Some of my author friends out there may read this and think, Kim we don’t write for free, what is wrong with you?! Yes, true and I agree. But I saw this as an opportunity that came knocking at my door, I never looked for it it found me. Also I think it’s a cool way to introduce you guys and other readers to my Romance Set in Paradise series… I was contacted personally this week by someone who works for a publisher, a random email  popped up from a lady who works there. Apparently my excerpts and writing I’ve posted online here caught their eye. She encouraged me to enter their writing competition,with a chance to win a publishing deal! I was so taken back, flattered and excited.  How could I say no with so many benefits that out weight the fact that my work is free… well 100 copies of it are free.

Havana Heat is book #1 of the series and while it is still on sale on other platforms, and my rights are all mine still, it’s available to read for free here as part of this writing competition I’ve entered.  Knock yourselves out, the more readers/engagement the better for me and the chances of winning a deal! So go ahead, there are 100 copies to read for free grab one on line while you can, and feel free to spread the word people!

Wish me luck. I better crack on with book #2 for a June release date.

Master-Paperback-Havana-Heat-

Blurb:

Havana Heat is book one of the Romance Set in Paradises series of modern,steamy, suspenseful and romantic stories, set in exotic locations around the world. In Havana Heat readers are transported to the paradise of Cuba’s capital Havana, following the romance and heat build between Spaniard Detective Sebastian Garcia, and London born and bred wedding planner Melinda Jones. Melinda’s path crosses with the handsome and charming Detective at Casa De Amour Hotel as a guest at her client’s exotic location wedding. Both characters are in search of a slice of paradise, away from their own troubled love life back home. Once their paths cross the romance and sizzle begins.

When all hell breaks out at Casa De Amour Hotel, and conflict builds over their past both characters are faced with a decision to take a risk and see out their romance, or walk away. Forever asking themselves what could have been. Romance, thrills and excitement await in book one of this modern romance series set in paradise.

Grab a free copy here. There’s only 100!

Calling All Authors! #author #amwriting #newrelease

THIS IS A RE-BLOG… MTA HAS BEEN POPULAR! I’LL FEATURE TWO AUTHORS PER MONTH. LOOKING FOR AUTHORS FROM JULY ONWARD. SEND ME A MESSAGE IF YOU’D LIKE A FEATURE.

Calling all authors who would like a spotlight feature. I’m preparing my first feature for April ! I am excited to feature this author in particular. Stay tuned on Tuesday 25th. If you’d like a feature contact me here

Features can be

  • Interviews.
  • promotions/ offers/discounts/free download days
  • New release info.
  • Anything you can think of…meet-the-author

Diversity Within Fiction, Are We There Yet? #amwriting #MFRW #diversity

 

When I first started to write it did cross my mind that being a British author, not everyone may connect.  It never bothered me and it still doesn’t  now.  I feel this way as there is a reader out there for every writer, no matter what you write be it dark stuff or light comedy. I’ve come to feel really strongly that writers should not, and can not write to people please. Why? You’ll lose yourself , who you are and what you want to write. I write it how I like it end of.

Over the last twenty four hours I’ve really been thinking about diversity within fiction, this is mainly due to the writing prompt I did on the Ideal  Romance Hero, and  the  guest author post I done with Author Jane Ridson. I was asked ( in the guest post)  how I go about using diverse characters, and what advice I would give to those that shy away from it. To me, diversity is a given, where I’m from in London it’s a melting pot of different cultures  we love diversity this side of the water pretty much, well in London anyway. So it comes natural that I write reflecting what’s around me, and my diverse friends I have. It would be really hard not to.

Last night, I reflected on this point about diversity a little further, when I woke up this morning and read a few  other writer’s POV on the Ideal Romance Hero it occurred to me that my take on Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome  and the ideal romance hero is quite different, which is fine. I don’t mind standing out! One  ( supportive) comment led me to feel that diversity really does need to be embraced, I also had a response to my Beta Reader call from someone who is keen  to be a Beta Reader for me as I’m a different race and gender to them and I’m on  the other side of the world. This is cool really cool. 🙂  But … are we there yet? Do we still have a little work to do with diversity in fiction? There’s a blogger I love his name is Jason Cushman or Opinionated Man to you and I. I’ve said it before he is rather funny, frank, and to the point. He is also rather raw in his take on diversity.  Jason is of Asian descent and embraces it from what I read,  but he does highlight ” the struggle” he’s over in the USA.I thought about Jason, some of his posts I’ve read and his struggles. You should check him out.

I then went to Facebook in search of marketing groups or companies who actually work with writers who feature diverse characters.  I’d like to put my Romance Set in Paradise series in front of some readers who may love and seek a bit of diversity. Also my future work also, as you know I’ll never quit creating diverse characters. Do you know I found none, not one, like not even a choice! I am really surprised. This led me to set up my own group called Black, Asian and Minority Readers and Writers   this is not about segregation it’s more about celebration! Of authors who feature diverse character line ups, and can maybe help support other authors branch into this ( if they want to) without the fear of stereotypes, or stereotyping those they feature,  find readers who want to find  diversity in their fiction, a chance for all writers  regardless of their own race who love, support and read diverse fiction to come together. This includes the gay community also. I have nothing against same sex relationships at all, live and let live is my motto.  I feel like I want to do something from this side of the Atlantic as there are so many in the USA ( FB groups) with this focus on African American writers /fiction, but I see little with a welcome for all minority groups for anyone who would say they are a minority or of some mixed background.  Or am I just not looking hard enough?

So, if you’re an author of an ethnic background, or an author who writes with diversity regardless of your background, or you’d like to try it! Join the group, the link is above. I hope to build a community of support. And readers, marketers and lovers of our diverse work. Because variety is the spice of life.

Tell me, what’s your views on diversity in general?

Kim

 

INDI-AUTHORS UNITE. Leave a link and find a read! Open book swap!

Didi Oviatt

I’ve noticed a slight lack in support as of late. There is a lot of talking and not much reviewing of each others Indi books!

So, I’ve decided to do this a couple times a month.  Leave an order link in the comments with your work, THEN come back tomorrow when there’s a variety to choose from, and PICK ONE TO READ! Please only share if you plan on reading another.  

This isn’t only a promote yourself post, but a show your support for another amazing authors! Please share share share!!   I’m talking share you links, share this post, and lets share our thoughts on each others work!

It’s time to pay it forward fellow Indi’s.  Lets read others just as much as we promote our own 🙂 ..  I can’t wait to see all of your books!!

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CONNECT WITH ME! AMAZON AUTHORS PAGE //  GOODREADS //  TWITTER

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Kim’s Call: Who is Listening? #amreading #betareaders #reading #romance

Beta Readers

 

Afternoon!

I’m putting out a call for Beta Readers. This call is for myself and also a Best Selling Romance author friend of mine. I won’t say who it is!! (Yet). We both would love a few quality, honest and reliable Beta Readers, who would be interested in reading samples or all of our novels/ novellas before they go to publication. You can be an author yourself or just a lover of fiction.

Do you like these genres/themes within stories:

Romance .

Suspense.

Paranormal (not my genre).

Time Travel genre.

Contemporary fiction /romance.

Thriller/ crime (that’s yours truly).

A multi cultural / diverse line up of characters.

Strong, likeable women.

Modern day Romeos for men.

Location based stories all around the world.

Stories that touch on real life issues.

Are you okay with:

My use of British English? If this will annoy you I’m sorry I may not be the author for you. I spell organised with a S! Favourite has a U… got it?

Are you:

Over 18 …..things can get a lil’ steamy in our stories. Both myself and the other author are not really into all that sweet wholesome romance. We write about love and sex in tasteful ways. Our characters do more than hold hands and walk in the park. *Wink

Have English as your first language.

Honest & reliable.

Able to keep things confidential?- This is important.We will send you our work before it’s published…don’t let the cat out the bag!

What does a Beta Reader do?

In a nutshell read and critique, in a constructive way. Offer their views on what’s been placed in front of you good or bad.

If you’re interested in being a Beta Reader for me, and/or the other author contact  me here. Send me a message.  We’d love to hear from you.

Thank you!

Oh we’ll throw in signed paperbacks of every book you Beta Read!

 

 

 

Win Signed Copies! #giveaway #romance #competition

Would you like a signed copy of one of these books? You decide which one, I’ll give away any book to five lucky winners. Note that the release dates for Havana Heat and Lover’s Retreat are May and June 2017. Enter your details on the form below, five winners will be selected at random by Rafflecopter.

Good luck! Enter Here:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

*Your details are safe and secure and will not be shared with anyone.

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Havana Heat 

Havana Heat is book one of the Romance in Paradise Series of modern,steamy, suspenseful and romantic stories, set in exotic locations around the world. In Havana Heat readers are transported to the paradise of Cuba’s capital Havana, following the romance and heat build between Spaniard Detective Sebastian Garcia, and London born and bred wedding planner Melinda Jones.Melinda’s path crosses with the handsome and charming Detective at Casa de Amour Hotel as a guest at her client’s exotic location wedding. Both characters are in search of a slice of paradise, away from their own troubled love life back home in London. Once their paths cross the romance and sizzle begins.

When all hell breaks out at Casa de Amour Hotel, and conflict builds over their past both characters are faced with a decision to take a risk and see out their romance, or walk away forever asking themselves what could have been. Romance, thrills and excitement await in book one of this modern romance series set in paradise in the Caribbean.

Lover’s Retreat:

Lover’s Retreat is book #2 of the Romance Set in Paradise Series of modern,steamy, suspenseful and romantic stories, set in exotic locations around the world. For thirty seven year old recluse Yasmin O’Neil, life feels like one crisis after another. Her husband left her five years ago, she starts to suspect she’s losing her hearing and then her mother is diagnosed with Cancer. When her mother passes away her fortune changes, Yasmin is fifty thousand pounds richer from her mother’s estate. She takes her fate into her own hands after years of  being a recluse, she rediscovers herself at a spiritual self development retreat in Sri Lanka south Asia, before she plans to spend the next six months travelling around the world.  In Sri Lanka, Yasmin’s path crosses with Michael Thomas, an army soldier on his own path of self discovery.  With their luke warm initial encounter the pair don’t hit it off straight away. After some push and pull the two are finally on the same page. Their encounter turns from luke warm to sizzling hot.

In Lover’s Retreat two very different characters originally on different paths, embrace the need for change and companionship. Set in the back drop of paradise, palm trees and untouched nature of Sri Lanka, these two lonely souls gain more than just self discovery they gain a soul mate.

Not Just For Christmas:

In Not Just For Christmas readers are taken on a romantic journey set in London, during the festive season following two characters originally opposed to each other fall in love. There’s enough warmth and sensuality to keep readers warm at any time of year.

As Christmas draws near thirty five year old social worker Ava Green, finds herself desperate to not be alone at her favourite time of year. Following the break up of her engagement earlier in the year, Ava has spent ten months on a mission to get over her ex. With the support of her two of her closest girlfriends Tasha and Marie, Ava makes a bold move that surprises her girlfriends in order to find a companion for the festive season. Ava’s path crosses with tall dark and handsome Detective Jerome Samuels, a divorcee in search of love. Once their paths cross after a few bumps along the way there’s no turning back, these two characters are caught up in a whirlwind of sensual and heartwarming romance, that Detective Jerome Samuels hopes is not just for Christmas, he’s on a mission to claim his lady Ava.

A Stranger in France

In A Stranger in France readers are taken on a fast paced, modern day romantic journey, that spans across the city of London, the glitz and glam of France, and the beautiful English coast. There’s enough suspense to keep you on the edge of your seat turning pages.

Career driven and successful thirty two year old Kate Brown travels to southern France to visit her best friend Tanya Adams, for a well deserved short break, and to forget her worries in London. Her path crosses with tall, dark, devilishly handsome and wealthy Nicholas D’Coix. As a young man, Nicholas turned himself around and built an empire of wealth, he’s now one of Paris’ top three entrepreneurs. In a whirlwind of steamy romance Nicholas and Kate fall in love.

Kate returns to London leaving Nicholas behind and the two are still very much in love. Kate faces a few surprises of her own on her return to London. She makes a bold life changing move, to make the most of her life changing dilemma. Touching on real life issues these two strong characters battle it out, against all the odds in the name of love for a beautiful happy ever after.

I’ll take my romance with a side of adventure.

As a romance author myself, I see where Sara is coming from 100%. I’ll take my romance with a side order of adventure and drama. Give Sara a hand with her research, romance readers how do you like your romance? Take a look at her research poll and see if you can help with a click of a button.

Sara Ackerman, author

As I was researching for my current book, I came across a blog written by a historian who claimed she hated historical romance that did not exactly follow the construct of the era in which the story is set. In fact, she preferred an ordinary romance in which boy and girl meet, boy and girl fight/misunderstand/do anything they possibly can think of to sabotage their relationship before boy and girl fall in love and marry.

Personally, I prefer alternative historical romance in which many of the era’s constructs remain true to history while others are altered (in a believable manner if one cares to set aside any preconceived notions about what is and isn’t acceptable in a historical romance) . My stories tend to fall into this category. While not ‘wallpaper’ romances, they are stories that could have happened within a given society’s parameters. Consequently, my stories feature more than…

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Meet The Author: Thank you All! & More Authors Needed… #author #amwriting

Well guys I have just interviewed three brilliant authors today, and the line up is so diverse!  The feature has become popular ,I’m doing two authors per month as a feature. The next spot open is from August onward, so if you’re  an author and you have a new summer release, or you fancy a spot light (even if you don’t have a new release for the summer) come and strut your stuff….do get in touch.  Everyone is welcome, but male authors  are encouraged  to participate and authors who hail from ALL genres, you wait until July there’s a lot of diversity there.

I’m loving meeting you all, and reading the author review copies  of your books I get. I promise I’ll read them and review them.

You can read some previous author interviews here.

 

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 5-27-2017

I can never pass up a writing prompt. Here’s another challenge writers take a look.

A Writer's Life

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode. 

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

1. A prompt photo will be provided each Tuesday to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.

2. Linking for this challenge begins on Tuesday and runs to the following Monday evening.

3. Please credit photo to photographer.

4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.


“This,” he said, opening the french doors and taking in a deep breath of sea air, “is the life.”

She came up behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I thought I was the life.”

“That’s a different kind of life altogether. So…beach or question mark?”  Wiggled his eyebrows.

With a laugh, she moved away. “Mother always said you were…

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Meet and Greet: 5/26/17

Time to meet and greet as well as leave your links for others to discover. Have a lovely weekend meeting and greeting.

Dream Big, Dream Often

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It’s the Meet and Greet weekend everyone!! Strap on your party shoes and join the fun!

Ok so here are the rules:

  1. Leave a link to your page or post in the comments of this post.
  2. Reblog this post. It helps you, it helps me, it helps everyone!
  3. Edit your reblog post and add tags.
  4. Feel free to leave your link multiple times! It is okay to update your link for more exposure every day if you want. It is up to you!

  5. Share this post on social media. Many of my non-blogger friends love that I put the Meet n Greet on Facebook and Twitter because they find new blogs to follow.

See ya on Monday!!

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What-cha Doing Right Now?#friday #weekend

Three Day Quote Challenge 3

 

Oh, you’re not voting? Why not?? Didi’s put the last call out over the other side of the Atlantic. She’s allowing three more hours, before she closes the poll for week #2’s writing prompt selection. Then we’ll see you Tuesday for the story post. There’s one  prompt in the lead “ every time I hear that voice from my basement.”  

It’s a hot muggy night in London, and it was a hot day full of sunshine. I spent it in the park. I’m about to start work on Lover’s Retreat book #2 of the Romance Set in Paradise series, I’ve not been productive at all. I’ve been reading lots of other author’s work. Tonight, I’m in for a marathon night of writing now the house is quiet.

Have a wonderful Friday night or day wherever you are!

It’s paranormal genre week……… get involved and vote!

Vote here.

A LITTLE INFO:

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we’re so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge Didi and I by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. One of us will start the story and the other will pick up where she randomly left off. It’s that simple! The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.)
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY! Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt you chose!

Last Day To Vote….Week #2 New Genre: Paranormal Eeeek OMG

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Time is ticking,  Didi and I are watching the votes climb we have one writing prompt in the lead ” every time I hear that voice from my basement.”  I Know Didi’s excited for this week, when I caught up with her on Skype last night she was very excited. Personally I’m on the edge of my seat … I have never wrote anything paranormal in my life before this will be the first time. I will be totally out of my comfort zone  with this challenge eeeeeeeek. But that’s what this challenge is about, and the main reason why we’re doing them. Gimmie a suspenseful, romantic, thriller, crime or even  damn right sexy prompt I’ll knock ’em out no probs.  This week, I’m a little nervous! But can’t wait for the writing to begin.

Thanks for voting, keep going the poll is running on USA time this week, and closes today head over to Didi’s author page and see what’s on offer and place a vote.

Vote here.

read week one’s female serial killer on death row prompt story here!

A LITTLE INFO:

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we’re so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge Didi and I by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. One of us will start the story and the other will pick up where she randomly left off. It’s that simple! The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.)
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt you chose!

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Freebie Friday x 2 There Are #97 Free Copies Left! #amreading #romance #free

Another freebie for you to start your weekend, I woke up thinking today is Saturday oddly. Don’t forget as part of the novel writing competition I’ve entered, there are 100 free copies of Havana Heat up for grabs here. Take yourself to paradise, and indulge in a little steamy romance novella. I hope to have the second story in the series released in June. You can read an excerpt of Lover’s Retreat  here.

Have a lovely weekend, the sun is set to shine in London  again. I hope it is where you are too. And it’s bank holiday weekend in the UK we’ve got a three day weekend  🙂 .

Book Blurb:

Havana Heat is book one of the Romance Set in Paradises series of modern,steamy, suspenseful and romantic stories, set in exotic locations around the world. In Havana Heat readers are transported to the paradise of Cuba’s capital Havana, following the romance and heat build between Spaniard Detective Sebastian Garcia, and London born and bred wedding planner Melinda Jones. Melinda’s path crosses with the handsome and charming Detective at Casa De Amour Hotel as a guest at her client’s exotic location wedding. Both characters are in search of a slice of paradise, away from their own troubled love life back home. Once their paths cross the romance and sizzle begins.

When all hell breaks out at Casa De Amour Hotel, and conflict builds over their past both characters are faced with a decision to take a risk and see out their romance, or walk away. Forever asking themselves what could have been. Romance, thrills and excitement await in book one of this modern romance series set in paradise.

Grab a copy

Master-Paperback-Havana-Heat-