Tag Archives: African American

Jilted: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance by Azaaa Davis (Book Showcase)

 

We said “I do,” and then he disappeared. 

Administrative assistant by day and boss lady on social media by night, Theresa enjoys sharing her charmed life with half-million followers. The only thing she loves more is being engaged to the hottest doctor at the clinic where they both work. Cementing her fame by reaching one million followers would be the icing on her wedding cake. 

Life stops running smoothly when her husband vanishes on their wedding night and a leaked photo of a barely-dressed Theresa yelling at the police sparks a viral sensation. With everything at stake—love, reputation, followers, and career—she embarks on a reluctant voyage of discovery. Follow Theresa as she stumbles over her new husband’s secrets and develops her inner strength. 

 

Start reading this thrilling paranormal romance novella today!

Kindle Purchase Link

 

 

Excerpt #1:

“Do you want to keep your job?”

With nothing appropriate to say, I nodded.

Of course I wanted to keep my tedious, entry-level clerical job that somehow paid less than my last one. I loved waking up at six in the morning to ensure the office opened by eight. I loved working for orthopedic surgeons striving to be the best ortho clinic in town. Who wouldn’t want to have not one but three self-centered, competitive, and arrogant bosses?

I exercised and put on makeup each workday because I was the face of OrthoCity. I dressed like I made half as much as the doctor that signed my paycheck. When the doctors squeezed in more consults, I worked longer hours. When the doctors surpassed their allotted time in the operating room at the hospital, resulting in their office visits needing to be rescheduled without notice, I worked tirelessly to make it happen smoothly. When not one but two doctors impulsively took weeks off for vacation, leaving me with only one doctor and too many entitled patients, I continued to work with a smile on my face. I was here, working, consistently and reliably.

“If you want to keep your job, I need you to show up on time and open the damn clinic!” my boss said in that booming voice of his that I would never grow fond of.

A heavy hand gripping a blue monogrammed pen waved a little too close to my face. I leaned back and bit the inside of my cheek to keep my smile in place. As if I were staring at still water, my superficial smile reflected back as a deep frown on Dr. Eames’s freckled face.

“Mrs. Reid waited outside for an hour! One long, unacceptable hour before you showed up disheveled and unfocused. Long enough for her one-star review to be published on My Doctor and Google Reviews. So don’t sit there nodding like I’m the scary bad guy,” he said while standing over his desk. “Just do your job before I replace you.”

Still lacking anything appropriate to say, I nodded.

He glared through his black-rimmed glasses. My boss led our small business well, but he annoyed me to no end. He spoke loudly even when he wasn’t yelling, and he wore prints and patterns that made me squint.

The fact that he wore a blue, fitted, long-sleeved shirt with a Star Trek emblem pin on the right side of his chest today might have been understated, but the scolding he so readily dished out did nothing to make him more likable. Apparently, he required a verbal response to end this irritating meeting.

“Yes, sir,” I said through gritted teeth and with my eyes averted.

“Consider this your second strike.”

Dr. Eames simultaneously opened a thin patient file, tapped his mouse to wake up his computer, and dismissed me from his presence.

I stood and adjusted the lion ears headband to make it pinch less. My thick, curly hair worked well with my costume. I pulled on the plush lion tail secured to my scrub pants to reshape it from sitting for the last ten minutes. Knowing Dr. Eames would be staring at a well-shaped ass he could never tap, I walked out of my boss’s office like I had just gotten promoted.

 

_______________________________________

 

Excerpt #2:

In an intoxicated haze, I headed to my hotel.

The bar was in the same neighborhood as the hotel, so I didn’t bother hailing a taxicab. By the time I reached the corner of the street, I started sobering up, and my brain finally recognized the pain signals from my heel-encased feet. Don’t wobble. Don’t limp.

If I made a left turn, I’d be in my hotel room in about eight minutes. But the street wasn’t well lit or populated in that direction. Or I could turn right and safely take the long way around. Turning right meant fifteen minutes of trying not to limp or stumble. It also guaranteed that I would be harassed by catcalling men. As much as I loved attention, I could do without the daily catcalls while walking the streets of NYC. I turned left.

“Hey! Funny thing, I didn’t get your name or number.”

I stopped walking. Pro-athlete guy had caught up to me, unable to take a hint. I would have to turn around and say no to him directly.

That’s when I heard a growl that made me freeze in fright. I literally peed a little. An untrained dog on the loose? Or an escaped tiger from the local zoo? Maybe it was a bear standing behind me? While I had no idea what kind of wild animal made that horrific sound, it was behind me on a New York City street in the early hours of the morning. Next, I heard the scream of a grown man, followed by something heavy hitting the ground. I ran. Correction, I flew down the street. That eight-minute walk down a couple of deserted streets took five minutes maximum.

Panting, I stopped to collect myself three buildings away from my hotel’s entrance. I shook the nerves out of my hands. I took deep breaths to steady my racing heart. I dabbed my forehead and upper lip to remove the excess sweat. Pretending to be sober and calm, I approached the fancy hotel with a single cursive E on the front awning. The doorman saw me and smiled. Having someone open a door for me never got old. Not trusting myself to keep it together, I nodded politely and silently made my way through the brightly lit lobby and to the elevator bay to get to the eighth floor.

Nervously, I wondered what to tell James if I ran into him. No Jaz as an alibi. I drank too much, stayed out too late, and worst of all, I’d spent the better part of the last hour letting some generously muscled guy grind up on me. Did he chase me outside of a bar to ask for my number? Did I really hear the awful sounds of an animal attack? I shivered. Too much vodka was my only conclusion.

Luckily, James and I had agreed to have our own hotel rooms down the hall from each other. Presumably, I needed a full night of beauty rest and didn’t want to know what time my drunken husband-to-be stumbled in after hanging out with his boys at a strip club. Who knew I’d be the one intoxicated and scared at two in the morning, hoping I didn’t run into anyone I knew as I made my way to my hotel room?

I somehow avoided detection and got to my room. Once my hotel room door closed behind me, I crumbled to the floor. With blurry eyes, I made a half-laugh, half-cry sound. I was safe, and I abso-fucking-lutely needed a shower.

Twenty minutes later, when my digits were pruney and the hot water turned cool, I exited the bathroom in a plush hotel robe.

“You still smell like him,” James stated quietly.

I managed not to pee on myself again, but I couldn’t stifle my scream.

 

Kindle Purchase Link

 

Azaaa Davis is an International Bestselling American author of urban fantasy & paranormal romance novels. ✨

She fell in love with reading as a high school freshman and continues to read, write, and draw today. Her background in social work helps her portray realistic characters in otherworldly–and sometimes terrifying–situations. A New York native, Azaaa currently lives in New Hampshire (USA) with her husband and daughters.

Azaaa is working diligently to finish writing more fantasy novels while raising her daughters. Thank you for showing an interest in her stories!

Website and Blog
Newsletter Sign Up
Social Media Links

 

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Welcome to BB’s: A Sex Shop Series Novella by Tracy A. Ball

Paperback: 159 pages

Lizzy didn’t know why her friends were broke, anti-social, and content to remain that way. Until her birthday, when they chipped in and got her a sample package.It came with a coupon…

Kindle Purchase Link

Print Purchase Link

 

 

Snippet:

Lizzy’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the light tap on the door. Here we go. Her heart almost stopped when she opened it.

Leaning against the doorframe, Javier filled the space. His eyes were hazel with amber flecks of fire. His broad shoulders gave the T-shirt a pleasurable stretch. The hand he had casually blocking his groin didn’t hide a thing. His stance left her no doubt of his confidence. And the stud in his left ear—a silver heart—was a total turn on. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, pretty lady.” He brushed by her and took command of the room. 

Lizzy didn’t know what to do with herself. She wasn’t squeezing a rubber dick in front of him. 

“You look like you could use a drink.” Javier relieved himself of a small backpack, Lizzy hadn’t noticed. “Let me make you one and we’ll get started.”

“Uhhh…okay…” Lizzy couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t think. She stood there watching him mix drinks. 

When he finished, he held up a cold cloudy beverage, garnished with a slice of lime. “Gimlet. Gin, lime, and a little sweetener. It’s an easy sipper. To relax and inspire you.” He gave her one glass, and caught hold of her fingers, leading her to the sofa. He sat beside her, close, touching her hand.

Lizzy had a sip. Then she had another because she was nervous and couldn’t help herself. “It’s good. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He drank his own.

Oh damn. He had a dimple. 

“So, uhh…how does this work? What should I be doing?”

“Enjoy your drink. We’ll hang out and chat until you’re comfortable. Then we can do whatever you want.”

Having a drink was definitely a good idea. It might have been the gin/champagne combo.  More likely, it was him, but Lizzy believed she was already starting to buzz. “So you’re a sex shop tour guide. How long have you been doing this?”

“This is my first and only tour.”

“No.”

“It is.”

Something about his confession—if it were the truth—encouraged her. She felt less embarrassed than she would be with an old-hand. He didn’t have an arsenal of tired sell-lines to throw at her. She leaned into him without realizing it. “Why would this be your only tour?”

He drank his gin. “I’m here for you. It’s all I’m good for.”

She watched him weave his fingers through hers. 

“You don’t even know me.”

“I’m learning.”

Having put all her energy into stressing over the sex shop visit itself, Lizzy was unprepared for the shock he gave her hormones. Her skirt had risen a half-mile higher than it needed to be. Damn peppermint. It put her in the mood to make-out…with a total stranger…with a pipe in his lap…

Say something, say something, say something…“Do you guys really sell souped-up sex dolls?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but she wanted to know.

“I’m not familiar with the term, souped-up. But, I imagine it would be self-flattery coming from me.” The bright amber flecks in his eyes lit up his face. “And, while we don’t consider ourselves sex dolls, a large portion of what we do would suggest it. I believe the answer would be affirmative.” 

It had to be the gin. “Pardon me?”

“I’m a souped-up sex doll.”

She burst out laughing. “I meant the supposed robots.”

Javier leaned over and whispered in her ear, “That is a conflicting response.”

It was a straight sentence, no hidden meanings or innuendos. But his breath in her ear made her wet her panties.

Kindle Purchase Link
Print Purchase Link

 

 

Gimlet

(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique) 

 

My jaw is still dragging the floor after reading Welcome to BB’s. 

If you can forget Lizzie is having wild sex with a very, very, VERY  enhanced robot, then the sex scenes were off the charts hot. 

Javier is not your typical robot. He looks real, feels real, and has thoughts and emotions. However, there is no mistaking he is not human. First and foremost, he’s price tag was no joke — $350,000 with no upgrades!

There were several instances where I laughed, though.  

  • He had a magical schlong. It literally shot out Gimlet (a cocktail). His tongue also released liquor from it. 
  • His ‘member’ can also shrink, deflate, or grow in size, depending on Lizzie’s pleasure and which hole he was about to or in the process of occupying. What a nifty trick!
  • Boris was a cad. Love that guy! 

I know sexbots are a real thing. I know they are becoming more realistic with each new model. I’m not sure if I would shell out or take a loan out for one, but there’s no harm in taking a tour of the shop. Now is there… *wink wink*

 

Heart Rating System:

1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) 

Score:  ❤1/2

Kindle Purchase Link

Print Purchase Link

 

 

Made entirely of rum and snacks–International Bestselling Author, Tracy A. Ball is a native Baltimorean and veteran West Virginian, whose family is a mashup of cultures. She writes real and raw interracial romance with an intensity that burns because she has been busting stereotypes while teaching interracial/generational healing for more than a quarter of a century.

Tracy engages with folks from every twist of fate and all manner of experience. She has hung out with murderers and dined with people who have dined with the Pope, which is why she needs the rum…and a nap.

Her published works include: Blood Like Rain, Welcome to BBs, The Other Shore, Death’s Desire, Big Guns & Bullsh@t, “Imogene’s Flowers,” “Thorns,” “Black’s Magic” “Truly, Madly, Kiss Me,” “Cumberland Christmas,” Civil Warriors, Dragonfly Dreams, “An Angel with Dirty Wings,” “Tsarina,” KAYOS: The Bad & The Worse, The Tiger & The Snake, The Right Way to Be Wrong, “Left on Marriottsville,” “The Train Ride,” Mail Duty, White Russian Lies.

Facebook

Goodreads

Website

Twitter

Amazon Author Page

Ball Books

 

 

 

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Civil Warriors by Tracy A. Ball (Book Showcase)

Civil Warriors:  A story of Love and Possession

There were things the Sagamores could and could not do:

William defied all social norms.
Georgie could be trusted with any secret.
Georgia Anne did as she pleased.
And, John Richard would kill a man for hurting her.

But,

William could not keep his feelings hidden.
Georgie could not let an innocent man die.
Georgia Anne could not be a slave.
And, despite going to hell, John Richard could not stop loving her.

 

Kindle Purchase Link

 

 

 

~~ Excerpt ~~

The hot ice of Eleanor’s voice brought the world back with crashing awareness. The center of the Conrac Ball was not the place to kiss Georgia Anne, to hold her intimately.

Eleanor stood shoulder to shoulder with Augusta Conrac and her husband Jesse Senior. Doctor Will and Uncle John followed them over, and behind them all, Lucy and Jesse Jr. held twin smirks.

“What do you think you are doing, young man?” Jesse Sr. puffed himself up to his full height of five foot seven.

“I will not tolerate this behavior in my home.” Augusta Conrac pointed to Georgia Anne.

“Hasn’t she caused enough scandal?” Although Eleanor was right up on them, she didn’t lower her voice. “You besmirch the Sagamore name.”

“Littlebit, get your wrap. We’re going home.”

Shaking, Georgia Anne turned away. 

Lucy dogged her.

Eleanor opened and closed her fan with exaggerated force. “What an outrageous spectacle. This behavior must cease, at once.”

“We’re leaving, Mother.” 

“I demand you remove that negro-hussy from my house.” Mrs. Conrac raised her voice to match Eleanor’s. 

“Now, ladies,” Uncle John tried to push the sound down with both hands. “Calm down. He said they were leaving.”

“Leaving, I should hope so.” Jesse Sr.’s head bobbed up and down.

“You should never have brought her,” Eleanor said.

“This is a respectable home,” Augusta reminded them.

“Actually, William brought her—” 

“Don’t muddle the issue, Will.” Eleanor shooshed him. “John Richard, I demand you apologize for…for…everything.”

“I demand you atone for the sin you’ve brought into my home.” Augusta nodded, agreeing with herself.

Jesse Sr. said, “This party cost me a fortune, young man. You’ve ruined it. I demand reimbursement. Every penny.”

Eleanor added one more requirement to the list. “I demand you get rid of that niggra.”

“Yes,” Augusta said. “It’s the only way.”

A muscle in John Richard’s lip twitched, as if he would smile. “Demand, and be damned.”

Kindle Purchase Link

 

 

Novelist, Reviewer, Content Editor, Blogger, T-shirt Wearer, and Professional Snacker; Tracy A. Ball is a native Baltimorean and a veteran West Virginian whose family is blended from three cultures. She has opened her home to foster children, drug addicts, AIDS victims, and anyone who needed an assist. She knows people who have committed murder and people who have dined with the pope.

Which is why she writes sweet stories about tough love, tough stories about sweet love, and takes long naps.

Facebook

Goodreads

Website

Twitter

Amazon Author Page

Ball Books

 

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

That Potent Alchemy: Treading the Boards, Book 3 by Tess Bowery (Book Review)

51J78uS1UVL

Is his love her safe place to land…or just smoke and mirrors?

Grace Owens danced her feet bloody to become the finest en pointe prodigy of her generation, but the only accolade she longed for—her father’s approval—never came. Finally, broken and defeated, she cut ties and fled to London to live life on her own terms.

Now, after four years as an actress in London’s smaller theatres, a last-minute production change lands her right where she never wanted to be again. Front and center in the ballet—and back in toe shoes.

From his perch on the catwalks, machinist and stagecraft illusionist Isaac Caird can’t take his eyes off Grace. A woman who wears men’s clothing, but not as a disguise. An exquisite beauty who doesn’t keep a lover. A skilled dancer who clearly hates every pirouette.

The perfect lines of her delicate body inspire him to create a new illusion—with her as the centerpiece—that will guarantee sold-out shows. Maybe even attract a royal’s patronage. But first he has to get her to look at him. And convince her the danger is minimal—especially within the circle of his arms.

Featuring a gender-fluid ballet dancer, an amateur chemist who only occasionally starts fires, and an old rivalry that could tear them apart.

Kindle Purchase Link

 

images-7(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique) 

 

Historical romances, for the most part, have a common denominator — couples DO NOT rush into the act of love-making. In this genre, I’ve discovered couples are more prone to tread slowly, basking in the rewards of subtle touches and lustful glances. They understand the act of foreplay with their words holds the same amount of power, if not more, than succumbing to the carnal impulse to inert slot A into slot B.

In “That Potent Alchemy”, Isaac and Grace had their share of tender touches and they also dabbled in various acts of eroticism: oils, scarf, and a strap-on. I have to say I’m impressed with Isaac’s attitude and reaction to Grace’s “prick”. He wasn’t close-minded and found himself thoroughly enjoying his *never before touched* area pleasured.

Kinky!!

Now when the couple wasn’t seeking sexual satisfaction, a plot was unfolding. Someone was attempting to sabotage the play Isaac was a set designer for and Grace was dancing/acting in. For me, the plot seemed like a problem any theatre company would face then or now. For that, I give Tess props. (no pun intended)  😀 

Tess stayed true to circumstances faced my anyone in the “business” and also delivered us a nice portion of romance/kinkery.

Lovely work, Tess! 

 

Heart Rating System – 1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) 

Score: ❤❤❤❤

Kindle Purchase Link

 

Other books by Tess Bowery:

She Whom I Love: Amazon Purchase Link

Rite of Summer:  Amazon Purchase Link

High Contrast (Evolution Ink): Amazon Purchase Link

 

 

91+4Kx8At8L._SX150_

Tess Bowery lives near the ocean, which sounds lovely, except when it snows. An historian by training and a theater person by passion, she’s parleyed her Masters degree in English history into something that would give her former professors something of a surprise.

Her love for the Regency era began as they always do, with Jane Austen, and took a sharp left turn into LBGT biographies and microhistory. Now she indulges in both of her passions, telling the stories of her community in the time periods that fire the human imagination. Her first foray into contemporary M/M fiction, High Contrast, releases in 2016.

Along with writing, Tess splits her time between teaching, backstage work, LBGT activism and her family. She spends far too much money on comic books, loves superheroes and ghost stories, and still can’t figure out how to use Twitter properly.

Get updates and book information at http://www.tessbowery.com, or hang out with Tess at http://tessbowery.tumblr.com, or @tessbowery on Twitter.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized