Whoa, this was supposed to post yesterday, but something happened as I tried to include the cover. Or rather, nothing happened. No internet connection. Which, when you live rurally and have the same company providing your TV, telephone, and Internet, means you have no connection with the outside world. So, I thought I just needed to reboot the system—something I have to do every other day. I sought out the box unplugged, replugged, then waited half an hour… Nothing. Huh. Just to check whether anyone else was in the same boat (and not at all because I wanted a cup of joe with my dd after all my frustrations), I headed to her place across the street. She had no connection either and had been WTFing for an hour, too.
When her cop hubby came home, we found out that every business and residence in the area using that same service was out as well. A construction crew had severed their fiber optic cable. And that’s technology for you. You’re dead without a backup solution. I did however get to bed super early because I was bored out of my mind.
And I’m rambling again. It’s 6AM, and I just checked connection. It’s back! So, I had to vent before I hit PUBLISH! 🙂
This book’s coming next Tuesday! I wrote it when I was sick as a dog, which somehow translates to “I wrote nothing but sex.” If you love a paranormal where a satyr (horse-man) and a jinn take a witch for a mate, you know this one is full of kink and a naughty ménage.
Harvest Moon
In Jefferson Parish, deep in the bayou, is a place called Bonne Nuit. Off the beaten path, isolated by swamp and connected to the sea, there the Beaux Rêve Coven thrives.
Five witches…Too many demons to count…
Radha’s sister witches become concerned when her health begins to fail. Her sleep is never restful, but they are unable to pinpoint what is wrong.
Khan, a jinn who’s been tasked to serve as her guardian, has watched her restless sleep and believes he knows the answer. Her dreams may be haunted by a demon set on draining her of power. As much as Khan loathes the idea, he seeks an old enemy, a vanir, whose magic should allow him to enter Radha’s nightmares to slay the Mare, an enemy bent on taking advantage of Radha’s vulnerability to make her his own.
Until the vanir arrives, Khan and the satyr who is her other guardian must keep her safe—even from their own lustful natures.
The door opened behind her, and she turned with a smile. Only it wasn’t Ali.
Nikon gave her a wink. “Don’t look so disappointed.”
“I’m not dis—”
He cut her off with a quick rise of his brows.
Radha rolled her eyes. “I’m feeling a little restless.”
“If you like, we can walk into the village. We need to restock the refrigerator. We need more meat.”
“I thought horses were herbivores,” she teased, knowing his love of beef.
“Only half horse, here.”
Radha gave a glance in the mirror, decided the long work apron she wore over her wrap-around sari skirt would have to do, and grabbed a large tote as she headed toward the door.
Nikon held it open but stared down at her feet.
“What?” she said, staring at her toes. “I’m earthing.”
“As much as you witches like to be barefoot, it’s a wonder you don’t all have calluses as thick as hooves. Or how you don’t find every pebble in your path. And it’s October.”
She slipped past him and skipped down the porch stairs to the grass, chuckling softly. “October in the bayou isn’t that cold. Besides, the Goddess protects us. Without shoes, our feet connect more directly with her. It gives us a recharge.”
His long legs brought him quickly to her side. “Have you ever actually talked to her? Or seen her?”
“I’ve heard her. Not as clearly as I hear your voice, but like an echo inside my head. And I feel her when I stand in the moonlight.”
She gave him a curious sideways glance. Nikon really was a handsome man. Bright glints of red and gold shone in his brown hair. His hazel eyes were more green than brown. With a rugged body and square chin, he looked the part of a guardian. Her guardian. Why hadn’t she experienced more of an attraction for him? Her life would be a lot less complicated with someone like him rather than her tricky jinn. “Do you plan to stay here in Bonne Nuit, long-term?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I like working for Vindlér Construction. Ethan’s a fair boss, and he encourages his employees to move up. I hope to run my own crew someday.”
So, he had ambition. “Where are you from, originally?”
He grinned. “Kentucky,” he said. “I was raised on a farm. Not some little operation. Our horse clan owned a huge tract of land, a grant from some governor when Kentucky was being settled, so we were free to be ourselves, hidden away.”
“Why did you leave?”
He grimaced and glanced up at the sunlight peeking through the tree branches. Many trees were already losing their leaves. “Wasn’t by choice. The council demanded more tribute. More than we could sustain. So, we disbanded quickly, before they had a chance to claim a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the land. Every family took its cut and fled. My father moved us to Oklahoma. When Katrina hit, I was looking for work and saw that Vindlér was hiring more people to expand their operations during the cleanup. That’s how I got here,” he said, flashing her a toothy smile.
“Did you know Ethan was Other?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Not until he shook my hand and gave me a quick flash of his troll eyes.”
She nodded. “A human would have thought it was a trick of the light.”
“Ethan had a knack for finding those of us who were living outside of council control, even when we were doing our best to blend in.”
A sudden cool wind sifted through the trees, and Radha was glad of the three-quarter sleeved shirt she wore beneath the apron. The wind blew again, a little harder this time, and she felt something drift across her arm, like a fingertip, only she was standing away from Nikon.
Nikon frowned and lifted his nose, scenting the air. “Something’s wrong.”
“I feel it, too,” she said, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“Hope you can ride,” he muttered then tore off his shirt, kicked away his boots, and dragged down his jeans. Before she had a chance to think about the fact he wore no underwear, he shook his body and transformed.
She’d forgotten how large he was in his satyr’s skin. He reached out a hand, and she let him swing her up onto his long horse’s back. Then she scooted toward his torso and slipped her arms around him, holding tight.
Nikon made a sound like a loud whinny and charged down the darkening path toward Bonne Nuit.
They skirted the village, keeping to the trees so the humans wouldn’t see them. Unfortunately, they didn’t count on passing Gus Hearn, the local ferryman, who sat high in his deer stand in the woods.
When they were hidden again by brush, they heard cussing and a crash behind them, and then more cussing as he shouted to himself, or into a phone.
“They’ll think he drank a little too much of Ole Winnie’s hooch,” Nikon muttered, sounding not a bit out of breath although he galloped like a racehorse.
They passed the trail leading to the bed & breakfast, and Radha didn’t say a word, knowing he was likely heading straight for Vindlér, where there would be less chance a human might see them. She held on, her knees gripping his sides, her arms tucked under his, and her palms clutching his chest.
“I don’t feel it anymore,” she shouted. When the fear dissipated, another emotion rose, bringing with it some very confusing sensations—like the way her breasts tingled as they rocked against his back, and how the coarse hair on his horse’s body abraded her inner thighs.
“I don’t feel it anymore, either,” he said. “But I’m not taking the risk. I promised I’d protect you.”
His pace didn’t slow until they entered the clearing. To the left was the large oak, the witches’ sacred tree. To the right stood the building that was still partially under construction because they kept expanding.
Before they came to a halt in front of the steps leading into the building, men flowed from the sides of the building and through the front door.
Ali and Ethan raced toward them, Ali extending his arms to catch her when she unwound her arms from the satyr’s torso and dropped.
“Was there trouble?” Ethan barked out.
“We were walking to town,” Nikon said, his chest billowing. “The air grew suddenly cold, and both of us felt a presence.”
Ali hugged Radha against his chest. “You did right bringing her here.”
“Were you seen?” Ethan asked.
Nikon grimaced. “By Gus Hearn at his deer stand.”
“Then I think we’re safe,” Ethan drawled, aware of the ferryman’s penchant for booze. “Hit the locker room and get changed.”
Radha glanced to the side to see Nikon shake. A millisecond later, he stood nude in his human flesh and walked up the steps—after giving her a wink, because he’d caught her staring at him.
Ali tucked a finger under her chin, raising her face. “Did you enjoy your ride?” he asked, his dark eyes narrowing.
Busy Bee, here! You know, when I was in first grade, the summer reading program at the air base’s library was called the Busy Bees… Don’t know why that popped into my head. I was very competitive and read a ton of books. Think my favorite was about a Siamese cat named Ping…
Anyways, here’s a puzzle. It’s a huge hint about what’s coming your way next week! Love shapeshifters, witches, and things that go bump in the night? Yeah, this is a sexy one, y’all!
Happy Octoberfest, y’all. This is one of my most favorite months of the year, next to Christmas. I start decorating October 1st and leave all the pretty fall décor up until the day after Thanksgiving…and then it’s Christmas at the Boon house—LOL.
Of course, this year it’s super special because I’m a MiMi to my first grandchild. Technically she was here last year, but she was only a few months old so she couldn’t really enjoy it herself. Now this year, we’ve already planned her Halloween outfit, which consisted of buying stuff, and then I tweaked it to make her outfit unique. I can’t wait to put it on her and take her out Trick Or Treating. I only hope she doesn’t FREAK OUT when she sees all the other people in costumes. However, she’s loved the big scary blow up things at TARGEE aka Target.
If you follow me at all, then you’ve probably seen a few…thousand pics of RomyGirl, but just in case, I’ll share a little collage of some sneak peaks we were given from her Fall Photoshoot we did at a local Pumpkin Farm just outside of our hometown.
Now, for some fun… Tell me what your favorite season is for a chance to win a print copy of my latest book Two For Tamara, Ravens of War book 2, which just released on October 15th. Be sure and pop over to my Facebook page, Elle Boon Facebook, and tell me or email me at elleboon@yahoo.com.
Now Available
Two For Tamara
They will Stop At Nothing, To Protect The Woman Destiny Created For them.
WHEN YOU SEE A VISION OF YOUR OWN DEATH… Tamara Mejia decides she will not take living for granted, knowing it was going to be sooner rather than later. When two gorgeous men burst onto her own personal horizon, giving her all the more reason to grab onto every bit of joy and happiness they have to offer, she takes it.
THEY’VE SPENT THOUSANDS OF YEARS SEARCHING FOR THEIR ONE… Rafe and Vin were created by Zeus, the God of War. They are elite soldiers called the Ravens of War and have been best friends for thousands of years. Now that their latest task is over, having found the lost Goddess, their own need to find their Fated becomes paramount. When they meet Tamara, all their protective instincts and deepest desires roar to life.
WHEN LIFE THROWS THEM A CURVE… When an old enemy kidnaps Tamara and whisks her off to Hell, it’s up to Vin and Rafe to find their Fated mate. But they soon realize that finding her isn’t going to be quite so easy, not when their enemy chooses to use her as a bargaining chip. Not when the game involves the Gods, and the stakes are raised. Will the power of the Ravens be enough to save the woman they love?
Two worlds collide in this thrilling second installment of Elle Boon’s Ravens of War series…and these larger than life warriors are just getting started.
Content Warning: Crazy demonesses (is that a word…yes ‘cause I made it up), Zeus unlike any you’ve heard of, and piles of sexy demi-gods. Intended for mature audiences.
~Joyfully Reviewed~ All bets are off when the gods get involved in Two for Tamara, the second story in a unique new series. Two for Tamara is a gritty, complex romance with the occasional tense and scary moment. The Ravens of War series is building into something special.
~NightOwl Reviews~ This is the second book in a series by author Elle Boon. She’s developed a world where gods from mythology are real and unusual powers common. Her heroes are tall, strong and answer to Zeus. However, don’t expect just romance because there is a fight between good and evil that carries through the series. Unexpected allies show up in this story changing the way things are done. Better still though is the female lead who is strong, independent and quite capable of giving the two men who want her a run for the money. Bits of humor pop up regularly giving some of the more violent scenes a bit of relief.
~The BookChick Blog ~ I really enjoy how Boon weaves together a dash of mythology with a whole lot of sexy and fighting off a horrible baddy in between. It definitely leaves me eagerly waiting to read about them.
If you enjoy romance, mythology, and intrigue, then you will definitely appreciate and enjoy the Ravens of War series.
Oh, and if you’ve not read book 1, Selena’s Men, you should totally check it out as it released just over a month ago.
Selena’s Men
Ravens of War Book 1
A Goddess unknown by all even herself…
Stolen from her birth parents as an infant, Selena lived her life as a normal human, loved by her adoptive parents until tragedy took them from her. Life had given her more knocks than most could take, but she was determined to survive, even when faced with death. Until she came face-to-face with two men who offered her so much more. But could she face what loving them could cost her?.
A set of Demi-Gods…
Max and Malcolm King were once warriors called the Ravens of War for Zeus. They’ve searched the Earth for the one woman to complete them. They’ve fought alongside battlefields for thousands of years, protecting humanity from demons and beings bent on destroying all that’s good in this world. Now that they’ve found their Fated, the one female who they’d give their life for. Will it be for nothing when they find out who her father is?
Are they doomed before they ever begin?
They’re determined to keep Selena safe, knowing every way to kill a man or demon, yet neither were prepared for the ultimate foe to resurface. They’d help defeat Cronus, the God who was bent on destroying Zeus and all the other Gods and Goddesses on Olympus all those years ago, however it seems they’d not done a good enough job. Somehow, the God has found a way to wreak revenge, and this time he’s taken something more precious than Olympus. Will the Ravens be able to save Selena this time, or will they lose the most important thing, their Fated?
~Joyfully Reviewed~ A sexy engaging new series begins with Selena’s Men. The Ravens of War introduces hot, intelligent characters in an original storyline that totally entertains readers. This series has a great start.
~NightOwl Reviews~Selena’s Men a new take on Greek Mythology and introduces a group of immortal warriors called the Ravens of War. Ms. Boon had done a wonderful job of world building for the story and introducing the characters. Her story line is well thought out and keeps the readers engaged. It is a hot and sexy read from beginning to end.
friend.
~ The BookChick Blog~Selena’s Men, Ravens of War was a smartly written sexy ménage romance story that contained a bit of everything — myth and legend, gods and goddesses, good vs. evil, sexy twins, and a band of equally sexy immortal warriors. Elle Boon spins a tale that puts a creative spin on the tale of the Greek gods and the titans. But, the story is less about the gods and the “human” who the story centers on, Selena Ramos.
I’m late posting today. Had to run my mom to the doctor’s and then to the local hospital for some x-rays. She’s doing okay, but she’s not very happy with me because I tattled on her for not taking better care of herself. Ah well. The child becomes the parent.
So, since I’m trying to play catch-up, I’ll make this easy. Head on over to my Short Stories page and peruse the sexy covers. The first three on the top row haven’t been released yet, so ignore them. Here’s the deal…
Pick a short story you’d like to read and email me at Delilah@delilahdevlin.com with the title.
I’ll send you a FREE copy. 🙂 DD
Ready for a fun read? Something sexy with plenty of action outside the bedroom, too? Well, Quincy is here! Quincy is book #8 in my Montana Bounty Hunter series, but can be read as a standalone—although, I’m hoping you will read them all. You know it was fun for me coming up with unique personalities and takedowns for each story! I hope you’ll pick up your copy and read it right away! I’m dying to hear what you think of my former Army Ranger and his beautician girlfriend. Tamara (pronounced Tuh-mahr-uh in my head) reminded me of me when I was in my twenties. Spunky, mouthy, and willing to go after what she wants—and she wants Quincy!
If you read it, think about posting a review. Readers trust other readers to tell them when they’ll have a good time! And you’ll be helping out an author!!!
Quincy
MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Former Army Ranger Quincy James and beautician Tamara Davis met under less than idyllic circumstances—trapped inside her doomsday-bunker-turned-beauty-shop while he was hunting a skip. Now that he’s settled into his new job with the Montana Bounty Hunters, he knows he’s dawdled too long asking her out on a legitimate date. But then, he gets a new case right in the pretty beautician’s neck of the woods. A dangerous new assignment he doesn’t want her anywhere near, However, NOT bumping into her proves tricky and when they do cross paths, he blows it.
Tamara’s already feeling foolish over the fact she got way too friendly with Quincy when they were trapped together, but then, he never contacts her again. When she sees him on the street in her little town, she’s ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he acts like he doesn’t know her. What the hell?
When the pair find themselves forced together again, there’s time for a reckoning…
I'm planning a new series, featuring police officers and private investigators in New Orleans, and I need help naming the series. Which of these ideas appeals to you?
Crescent City Heroes (21%, 3 Votes)
Big Easy Bad Boys (21%, 3 Votes)
New Orleans Nights (21%, 3 Votes)
Crescent City Blues (21%, 3 Votes)
Crescent City Bad Boys (7%, 1 Votes)
Men of the Big Easy (7%, 1 Votes)
Total Voters: 11
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If you have another suggested series name, list it in the comments, and I will add it to the poll!
No doubt we all remember our ‘first time’, the night or day or whatever when we lost our virginity, but what about when we first became aware of ourselves as sexual creatures? I’m not sure why that question recently occurred to me, but I have the answer.
I was a pre-adolescent, playing with my collection of plastic horses, cowboys, and Indians (yes, I’m that old) pretending my plastic human had caught a wild horse and was trying out various ways to restrain the horse. I tied up a leg, roped two legs together, placed a rope around its neck and tied the poor creature to a plastic section of fence. As I studied the mare or stud I became aware of a tingling sensation between my legs. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, I started rubbing myself there. The tingling increased, became more and more pleasurable. For as long as I remained interested in plastic horses and humans, I continued to encourage the feelings I didn’t understand. Of course I explored other ways of arousing the sensations, but ropes often factored in.
Fast forward about a million years and capture/bondage fantasies still turn me on. I’ve written other kinds of erotica but the majority revolve around some kind of restraint. My publisher Stormy Nights specializes in spanking stories. Even though spanking as a turn on puzzles me somewhat, I’m having a great time using that umbrella to engage my characters in sexual worlds. My heroines find themselves restrained while my heroes focus on enhancing the experience. Equality be damned in this fictional world. It’s all about power vs. helplessness.
I took that dynamic with me while writing my latest release Mastering His Pet. Here’s part of the first spanking scene. To explain, Tanner is a powerful Elite in a world I call The Society while Carra is a lowly Other. No question who’s in charge…
Mastering His Pet
“You want to run,” he said. “You’re like a wild animal that has spotted a trap and is trying to decide what to do.”
He hadn’t asked a question, which she took as proof he knew her much better than he should have. She had to be careful around him, not reveal too much, not show weakness.
But how?
“Maybe you’re wondering whether you can outrun me so I’ll answer. Despite my size, I’m fast on my feet.” He paused. “Call it one more weapon in my survival arsenal. If you let instinct get the best of you, I’ll overtake you. Once I catch you things will get even worse than they’re about to become. For one, I’ll make sure you stay where I decide you belong.”
He was still making statements, maybe not interested in hearing anything from her. Feeling as if she’d fallen into a place and space she hadn’t known existed, she kept her attention locked on him.
“I will correct your behavior. Make sure you never forget this vital lesson.”
It took everything she had in her not to assure him she understood, but she didn’t dare completely give into him. If she did he might take everything from her.
“Unfasten your shorts. Pull them down to your knees. Do the same to your panties, if you’re wearing any.”
“I am.” What did he think? That she dressed so she was always ready to fuck? She’d heard enough about military life to know some women hung around the troops. Most were whores looking to make enough to keep themselves fed, clothed, and sheltered. Her understanding was they made more money with their legs spread than they could otherwise.
Nothing could ever make her do that. Could it?
With a start she realized she’d let her mind drift. Somewhere between embarrassment and curiosity, she did as he’d ordered. She was going to be spanked, no way out of it.
Feeling if she’d separated from her body, she straightened. Her sleeveless top was so long it reached her navel, not that she could take comfort in the pitiful protection. She’d exposed her belly, pelvis area, and upper legs. Mostly her bare ass was there, ready for his hand.
“You should have worn long pants. You’ve got scratches, red marks, and indentations on your knees and shins from kneeling on the roof. Not a smart move on your part.”
He leaned back with his arms crossed, looking slightly bored. Maybe he’d spanked so many women he saw the task as nothing more than a chore. In contrast, she couldn’t think beyond the next few minutes.
“You know what you’re supposed to do. Get into place.”
She was just out of his reach, which meant she still had time to bolt, to—no, she couldn’t. Not sure what she was feeling, she positioned herself close to his legs and carefully lowered herself onto his lap. Her bare skin touched a single layer of denim, trapping heat between them. Her belly rested on thighs that felt as if they’d been carved from stone. Most concerning, the sensitive area between her belly and legs pressed against him. It felt good. Wonderful in fact.
Dizzy from having her head low, she ran her fingers over the rough ground. She closed her eyes, held her breath. This wasn’t happening but it was.
“You don’t have any marks here,” he said, his fingers light on her ass. “Considering your behavior, my cousins never corrected you?”
“No.” Her voice was muffled.
“You better not be lying. It’ll only get worse if you are.”
He’d threatened her. She should take it to heart, but how could she when his hand now rested on her backside as if he had every right, which he did.
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I’ll make that determination. You have an exquisite ass.” He rubbed it. Her head spun and her pussy tightened and twitched. “Knowing my cousins as I do, I’m well-aware of their mindset where women are concerned. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I do.”
“That isn’t enough.” The pressure increased, not painful but impossible to ignore. Arousing. “Tell me, in detail, what takes place during their parties in the rooms without windows and with sound-deadening capabilities.”
“I’ve never been part of it.”
“They’ve never required your presence?”
“No.”
“If that’s the truth it constitutes a serious lack of judgment on their parts. An ass as delectable as this one should be put to use.”
“I’m more than an ass! You have no right saying—”
“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the issue. Might always wins.”
She was still processing his declaration when he slapped her. She jerked. A second blow immediately followed the first. Eyes squeezed closed, she tried to ready herself. Instead of continuing, he left her draped over him. He wasn’t done. She was sure of it.
“Do it!” She clamped a hand over her mouth then let her arm dangle again. What did staying quiet matter? She’d already angered him. “Get it over with.”
“All in good time, or should I say in my time. One way or the other you’re going to learn who is in charge.”
You are. If at all possible she’d keep from admitting that.
Her ass stung from the two sharp blows, the sensation sliding throughout her backside and going deep. She opened her eyes in an attempt to stop thinking about her pussy’s reaction. Weeds covered nearly every inch of the dirt she was looking at.
“Your life’s important.” He struck her a third time, this blow even more intense. “I will not have you treating it lightly. Being careless. If I have to keep you under control to keep you alive I’ll do it.”
“Under control?”
He closed his hands around her neck. “Restrained. Collared.”
Freud, if he hadn’t been so hung up on his belief that only damaged people fantasize, might have tried to understand dom/submissive dynamics. Looks like he left that up to me and other like-minded writers. My most recent releases, Mastering His Pet, Predator’s Pet, His Purchase and His Filly are all spanking stories, but my erotica has covered everything from spanking to shape-shifting, from primitive tribes to science fiction. I honestly don’t know how many sexy stories I’ve had published. It’d probably scare me if I tried to count them. I also write tamer stuff under another name and try to keep the two far, far apart. My free time is spent as a servant to two rescue dogs, hanging out with family and mostly writer friends, and, sadly, selling the family’s mountain cabin. The less I say about this year’s garden the better.
Not long ago, a Facebook post popped up on my timeline from an author asking other authors what they believed was their best talent in writing. Some replied, they were unsure. A few were very specific. I sat with fingers poised over the keyboard. Then I curled them to my hands, and my hands slunk away from the laptop like the Wicked Witch of the East under Dorothy’s house.
I needed to ponder the question before answering. Was I good at anything? The author’s doubt began to compress around throat. I shouldn’t even answer this. I had nothing to say.
In my other life, I’m a sports reporter, and I will say I’m good at my job. I’ve won awards and even had racing legend A.J. Foyt ask for more copies of a story I’d written about him.
Fiction writing, however, is a completely different animal—even the punctuation. All you need to do is ask my editors about my comma problem. On a side note, news stories are written in A.P. Style and punctuation is often at a minimum.
I can tell a story in fifteen hundred words or less, but readers are paying for and usually want more words for their investment.
What was so important about me answering this Facebook post? Well, by forcing myself to answer, I was giving myself a little legitimacy. So, I thought over the books I’ve released, and the ones I’m currently writing, and I began to form an opinion of what aspect of writing I believe I write well.
Male point of view.
I have a comma problem. I’m way too fond of adverbs. “Just” is my absolute favorite word of all, but I can get inside a man’s head.
More than a few times, I’ve read or judged a book where I finished the man’s side of the story and ended with my own “said no man ever.” On the flip side, I can tell usually tell when a male has written a female point of view.
I come by this talent honestly.
Because of the age difference between me and my sister, my playmates growing up were the four boys who lived next door who ranged in age from two years older than me to one year younger. Every minute of our free time was spent together.
I sat in the back of the bus and threatened to beat anyone up who made fun of Paul as he sat crying because Dena Bowman had broken up with him in the sixth grade. I went to high school girlfriends and told them they needed to stop trying to keep my boys next door from talking with me. I’d been around way before them; would be around way after them and had no interest in being my boys’ girlfriend as I had my own boyfriend.
In high school, I was still their shoulder to cry on when those girls moved to another guy.
I learned how boys see their parents’ marriage and how they dealt with the divorce.
As I began my career, I learned better ways to cuss and honed my inner smart ass skills. My husband says I have far surpassed his own skills.
In reality, I’ve learned men have their own vulnerabilities and insecurities, but they express them differently than women. Men express themselves in other manners than women in most things, and that’s not a bad thing, nor a wrong thing. It’s just dissimilar.
That’s not to say I don’t shake my head at times, but I understand the roots of the source.
I have great girlfriends, but I prefer to work with men. I’ve worked in a male dominated career my whole life, and I’m comfortable there.
Now, that I’m writing romance, I fully embrace my experience because my talent evolved from my situation.
I can write a male point of view and have discovered I enjoy writing my male characters more than my females. It’s like the girls are along for the ride, but the guys are more fun for me.
For me, the men are easy. The women are soooo hard. I’ll work on my women, but first I have this idea for a guy, and he’s so great.
I write both contemporary and erotic romance. I’m currently finishing the final book of the Love Strictly Test Trilogy, and Jordan’s Trials from the Wild Rose Press will be out in 2020.
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