It’s A Scavenger Hunt!


Finally, His releases on October 10 (have you preordered?) but there’s some fun to be had before then!

Have you been playing the Finally, His Scavenger Hunt on social media with me? If not, there’s still time.

Go to my Facebook page or my Instagram feed and search on this hashtag: #EliteDomsScavengerHunt to find all the “missions.” Read the questions posed and fill in the day’s google form with your answer.

OR… to make it suuuper easy, visit HERE to access all of it at once!

Everyone who answers all the questions correctly wins a special swag pack. One grand prize winner will receive a signed print copy of Finally, His.

Not interested in playing? Here’s an excerpt from Finally, His to enjoy instead!

~~~~~

His strides ate up the expensive Oriental carpeting. When he was a mere twelve inches from her, Colette’s neck craned to look up into his face. Now, so close to his glittering eyes, every nerve in her body lit up like the sun. Her heart thundered against her ribs, and her teeth grabbed her bottom lip—probably more to have something to do rather than chatter.

“Hello.” His voice matched his eyes—deep and assured.

With a small wink, Charlotte scooted away, and the room constricted, narrowing down to him as if all the people around them had been pushed away by invisible hands.

“Hi. I’m …” Why was she having such trouble forming words? As a foreign language translator, she was usually much quicker with them—in four languages.

“Colette. Yes, I know.”

Of course, he knew. Everyone in the room likely had a dossier on her already—something with big letters that said, “Look, but don’t touch.”

Alexander’s club application was akin to filling out a college application—and one that only allowed her entry to tonight’s introduction party. Nothing beyond. Apparently, to join the club officially, one must have a background check worthy of the CIA.

The masked man held out a hand, which she took.

Warm flesh engulfed her hand. “Enjoying yourself?”

She nodded. Enjoying wasn’t the word she’d use, but it’d do.

“Anything in particular catch your eye?” His hand kept possession of hers.

Okay, small talk was underrated anyway. “I’m not sure yet. But nothing I’ve seen has me running for the hills—yet.” She tried to sound light, flirty. Instead, her voice came out thin and little more than a squeak.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He studied her face. “You look beautiful tonight, Colette. But then, you always did.” He flipped her hand over and pressed a small card into her palm. “Think about it.”

He then released his handhold and strode away.

Wait a minute. Always did? She glanced down at the little card he’d given her. It read:  Griffin Miles Storm.

Her brain froze along with every part of her body. He couldn’t be.

On the back, he’d written a note in large-scrolled handwriting. My office. Thursday. 12 noon.

No address. But he didn’t need to give one, did he? She knew exactly where his office was. Knew who he was.

Holy. Shit. She glanced around, her eyes searching for him, a man she hadn’t believed she’d ever see again.

GET YOUR COPY OF FINALLY HIS HERE!

 

Conversations With Characters #18

Him: I got nothing today.
Me: You’re striking in solidarity with the actors and Hollywood writers, aren’t you?
Him: Yes. Consider me on vacation.
Me: Do let me know if you find anything interesting in the picket line.
Him: We’re discussing the patriarchal system that allows certain executives to make more than $50 million a year while too many actors make about $40 a day.
Me: Are you making that up?
Him: I am not. Just like I’m not making up that we are going to gate crash a certain executive’s party and have a threesome in his McLaren.
Me: Not sure how that’s changing the system.
Him: It’s with his twin, twenty-four year-old daughters that he wants to marry off to other studio executives. It’s their idea. They want revenge. I’m a man of service, what can I say?
Me: Is this a Hollywood studio mafia romance you’re starting?
Him: No, the mafia show up later. The head of the family–a woman–is in love with me. So she gets jealous and–
Me: My head hurts. Go back to the picket line.
Him: Too late. I’m already in the McLaren.
Me: Okay, maybe I’ll stick around. Solidarity and all that.

Cover Reveal and Release News!

I realize this collection been a long time coming. Wait no more.

For readers who want more of the Elite Doms of Washington, I give you… Finally, His.

This companion collection of novelettes include some of your favorite characters (Alexander, anyone?) as well as introduces some new players (Oh, Griffin!). I hope you enjoy them.

Pre-order here >>> https://books2read.com/FinallyHis

Publishes October 10!

“To think she and Alexander had been separated for decades until a few years ago. How had she survived that time? How had she breathed?” ~ Rebecca from The Portrait

I understand, Rebecca. Really, I do.

Gorgeous cover done by Lou J Stock of LJ Designs!

Amazon ebook: https://amzn.to/44jPh7U
Apple Books: https://apple.co/3qyCukd
Kobo: https://geni.us/FinallyHisKobo
B&N: https://geni.us/FinallyHisBN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**If you are subscribed to my newsletter, you may recognize two of the stories: The Portrait and When Darkness Calls. But both have been edited and include new scenes/material.

Conversations With Characters #17. And a Pedal Tavern!

Prepare thyself to be surprised. Someone’s back. See Conversations With Characters below.

Also, someone new has joined the picture. Because why not throw more characters at me?

I blame Nashville. I just visited friends there and had too much fun.

Ever heard of a Pedal Tavern? Yeah, me either. It’s a bar on a bike. Sort of. And they are all over downtown Nashville every night of the week. Seriously. Every fifty feet. Filled with “woo-woo” people. At least that’s what my friend’s husband calls them. He’s not wrong.

Just yell out “woo-woo” and the women, in particular, respond accordingly. I believe it’s mandatory one of them must wear a bride-to-be sash, too.

When I and my friends, Lisa and Diane, turn 70 we’re going to rent a Pedal Tavern and become woo-woo girls. At least for one night. We also will wear bride-to-be sashes. To mess with the tourists.

Until then expect a Pedal Tavern in a book sometime.

Maybe the heroine will be a jilted bride who decided to wear her actual wedding dress. She gets woozy. Dress tangles in the (fake and only for show) pedals. She falls off and straight into the arms of a rock star turned country. They gaze into each other’s eyes, fall in love. And she already has the (ripped to shreds) dress so… His name is Kai. At least in Nashville. He has many names elsewhere. Because is he only a music star? His secret life threatens to rise. Just when he thought the best way to stay hidden was to step into the spotlight…

Stop me before I hurt myself. Or rather, someone else stopped me. Want to know who? Keep reading.

Me: I’m really loving this new music star, Pedal Tavern hero. So swoony. So mysterious.
Him: I don’t sing.
Me: What?
Him: You know that. I drink Scotch.
Me: Do I look like your bartender?
Him: Did you just roll your eyes at me?
Me: <<dramatically rolls eyes again>> Oops.
Him: <<plays with pinky ring on his finger.>> You sure you want to do that a third time? And did I say you could get out of that chair?
Me: Thought I was fetching you a Scotch. You’re not my Pedal Tavern hero, are you?
Him: <<jaw twitches>> Sit. Down. Look at me. Listen to my voice. You know who I am.
Me: <<gulping>> Alexander?
Him: Smart girl. Now forget the Scotch. Listen very carefully. I don’t repeat myself. Are you listening?
Me: Yes, Sir.
Him: Hmmm. Also, a very good girl. Now. This is what I want.

I might have fainted at that point.

Stay tuned for what’s happening with the Elite Doms in my next newsletter. I have a surprise for you!

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Conversations with Characters #16

Him: You’re going to drown.
Me: Excuse me?
Him: You’re on your fifth cup of tea.
Me: When in London, do as the Londoners.
Him: Don’t be a cliche. Now I’m a modern day pirate with a 22 foot schooner off the coast of Greece and fall in love with one of my marks. An older woman with the most amazing pair of legs.
Me: <<Big sigh because once they start talking they don’t shut up.>> You after her jewels?
Him: Her jade collection. Imperial from Burma. $200K an ounce.
Me: She just happen to have that in her purse?
Him: In her safe on her yacht. Only her boy toy is in the way. He kept changing the combination.
Me: Boy toy, huh?
Him: Okay, technically it’s her fake husband meant to get her ex-husband off her back, but whatever. She deserves better.
Me: And you’re better, Sir Pirate Jade? She sounds… popular.
Him: She found her fake husband with the CEO of a jade mine. One night I was a revenge f$ck except when I tried to blackmail her with it she said “go ahead” and so I did and now I look like the boy toy in the press and every time I run into her, she laughs and–
Me: Stalking her?
Him: I miss her. She’s the only woman who ever, ya know…
Me: Put you in your place? Made you look bad? Ended your career as a pirate because now everyone knows who you are?
Him: Made me fall in love, okay? Jesus… You’ve always wanted to go to Greece, so jet on down there. I’ll meet you. But only if you promise I get the girl in the end.
Me:  And if I don’t?
Him: I’ll call up the Daily Mail and tell them you were in on the jade theft with me.
Me: Going to pull our your imaginary cell phone and speak with an imaginary voice, are you?
Him: Look. I’m really suffering here. I put the jade back. That’s got to be worth something.
Me: Poor baby. Maybe I’ll let you be part of her reverse harem. Or maybe a menage.
Him: Now we’re talking.
Me: I knew it. You guys always want a menage.
Him: What? She’s into it.
Her: Yes, I am. I haven’t decided who the third is. But, first, let’s chat about how I’m going to make my pirate playboy suffer…
Me: Oh, tell me we make him beg.
Her: We make him try to, how shall I say, out perform the others to prove himself to me.
Me: I think I love you. <<starts checking flights to Greece for research.>>