Hostile is Live!

Today for me is extra fun because two is my lucky number, so what better day for Hostile to make its debut?

That’s right, Indy and Penelope’s story is LIVE! Have you downloaded your copy yet?

If not, you can grab it here.

This book seriously tested me. When I was two thirds of the way through it, I decided it was missing something. See, every book I’ve written since Finding Zen/Fallen Star, I’ve gotten further and further away from writing what I wanted to write (or the stories I wanted to tell) and more in my head about writing things people will like.

Of course, ideally those two things would overlap and I’d write the stories that excite me and also people would enjoy reading them. But, it was when I was essentially having a breakdown over this book my husband said something so simple yet so profound.

“Stop writing what you think people want and write what makes you happy.”

Damn. The man’s a genius sometimes, I swear.

Anyway, for some reason that had never occurred to me. So it was at that point I postponed the release of Hostile and reworked the entire story. I did massive edits and rewrites on the first 2/3, cut SIX chapters from the end (which wtf was I doing? This beast did not need six additional chapters. It’s already over 100k as it is), and made Indy the kind of hero I love to read.

After that, the story practically wrote itself.

So, if you haven’t downloaded yet and you’re still on the fence about reading it, keep reading for a sneak peek of Hostile:

Penelope

“What made you change your mind?” He reaches over to the hedge wall closest to where he sits and plucks off one of the white blossoms, handing it to me.

I take it and tuck it behind my ear before biting my lip. It’s unexpectedly sweet, him giving me this flower as all his attention settles on me expectantly.

I don’t know if I want to confess everything to him, but there’s something sort of magical in the air right now. It feels like we’ve been transported to another place in another time where there’s nothing but him and me. It feels safe to confess my deepest buried hopes and wants, but there’s still the fear that he’ll reject me. Maybe he’ll laugh or tell me again how he’s not the kind of guy who does serious.

Still…

If I don’t take a chance, I’ll never know.

“I don’t like not talking to you.” I pluck at a nonexistent piece of lint on my dress, but eventually gather my courage to look up at him.

He blinks at me as his lips turn down into a frown and his eyebrows pull together like he doesn’t understand what I said. Maybe he can’t believe I actually admitted it.

My heart picks up speed as I decide I’m going to go for it. I’m going to ask for what I want to know. “Why did you run away?”

His expression shutters and he turns away, clenching his jaw. “We should get back.”

“You’re never going to tell me, are you?” Like I said, I knew this would be the result, but I had to try. It doesn’t stop the twisting in my chest or the blurring of my eyes as tears gather. The last thing I want is to let Indy see me cry again—especially not when he’s the reason I’m upset.

“No.” One syllable, so final in its utterance I swear it echoes through the stillness of the night like a death knell.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I say, jumping to my feet. “I want you off my security team. Now,” I tell him before lunging for the opening to get out. Suddenly the space is too small. His cologne is everywhere, his body heat warms my side, and I need to get away with a desperation that surprises me.

Indy has other plans, though, and when I rush for the exit, he grabs me around the waist and hauls me into his lap. I scream and try to throw myself off, pounding my fists against his chest and struggling but his strong arms are locked tight around me. It’s a waste of energy to keep struggling, but rage courses through every atom of my body as hot tears slide down my face.

“Stop struggling, Duchess.”

“Let me go,” I growl, digging my nails into his forearms. I don’t even stop to admire how sexy they are, which is a testament to how hurt and angry I am.

“No.”

I huff out a breath that blows my hair away from where it’s tangled in front of my face. “Is that your new favorite word?”

I’m so damn annoyed with him. He won’t talk to me, but he won’t let me go. I guess I should be grateful he made me angry because my tears have dried up.

“No,” he says and his lips twitch. Asshole.

Keep reading: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B098BPGNMJ

Chased Sneak Peek

Read on for a sneak peek of Chased.

Montana

Two months ago…

“You guys fucking smashed it,” I yell, raising up my glass of champagne, and the guys of Shadow Phoenix and their wives lift theirs to clink them together. I don’t give two fucks about this place being classy and upscale as hell. Despite being the manager for one of the biggest bands in the world for more than a goddamn decade—yes, that makes me feel old as fuck, by the way—I’m still not used to all the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

So, I’ll rock the hell out of my sparkly green gown that hugs every curve and shows off way more leg than is decent, but even my attention-grabbing dress can’t make up for my mouth. Ah, well. I consider it one of my many positive attributes. You know, the ones you’re sure someone will love you for someday if you can just find the right person.

Who wouldn’t love a wife who tells her phone to fuck off regularly when it rings at inopportune times? Or who likes to occasionally drink her beer through a Twizzler like a straw? Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Judgy McJudgerson. 

My eyes flick across the room to my own personal fantasy—all six feet two of him in his black-on-black suit. I know he’s got a sleeve of tattoos underneath the pressed jacket that’s straining against his biceps. If I let my imagination run away with me, I’d guess others were hidden away in less obvious places I’d like to hunt down with my tongue.

His dark hair is swept neatly to the side, but I’ve seen him often enough to know it’s usually sticking up messy in that way that the hot as fuck guys do that makes it look like they don’t give a shit about how they look when you know it probably took them longer to get ready than you. I let my eyes drop and look my fill, not caring even a little if he catches me eye-fucking him.

Maybe if he does, I’ll get laid.

And with that thought, I give myself the mental smackdown. Not only is Ronin Desai someone I have to work with regularly, but I am so beyond the point of casual hookups it’s not even funny. Sure, there are probably cobwebs in the dark corners of my vagina at this point, but I’m determined, damn it.

I finally tear my eyes off of Ronin, disappointed his dark eyes didn’t find me across the room, and tune back into my clients. They’re so much more than that, though, and their wives are my besties. I’d be lost without them, but I’m also jealous as hell. They’re all married or on their way to that with kids of their own.

Honestly, I never thought I’d be the girl who even wanted that shit. In the past, if someone handed me a baby, I wanted to throw it across the room to get it away from me lest I catch some baby-making dust somehow. Obviously, I would never throw a baby. What am I, new?

Still, somewhere along the way, what I wanted changed. Maybe it’s that stupid biological clock bullshit you always hear about, but whatever it is, I’m done trying to deny that now when I look at my friends and their kids, my stomach twists with jealousy, and there’s this weird empty aching feeling in my chest.

Damn, now that I think about it, I should probably get that looked at just in case.

I pluck my phone out of my bra and send my assistant a text to schedule me a doctor’s appointment. Better safe than sorry or whatever. 

Once that’s done, I tuck it back inside and do a quick spin to see if anyone needs anything. Everyone appears to be occupied, and with the new Shadow Phoenix album blasting over the speakers and the chatter over top of it, my ears are at that point after a concert where they’re simultaneously buzzing and sort of feel like they’re bleeding. I figure it’s a good time to head to the bathroom.

Champagne goes right through me, so I’m practically dancing my way back to the bathroom. Even though this is technically a work function, it’s also my most favorite clients and best friends, so I say fuck doing the stuffy thing I should do and barely sip one drink. I’m well on my way to drunk. At least I’m not the only one dancing, so I don’t look like a schmuck, though I’m the only one doing a pee-pee dance on my way to the bathroom.

Hey, I never said I was classy.

After I do my business and shimmy my dress back into place—seriously, who makes floor-length formal gowns without some sort of plan for when a girl has to pee?—I decide to check my lipstick in the mirror. 

Okay, so tonight, I might’ve gone all out knowing that Connor and his security guys would be here as guests instead of security for once. Ronin’s been my secret crush for way too long. While I’m not usually one of those girls who’s shy, I’m also not exactly excited to do my own version of the walk of shame every time I see him. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to make a lasting impression and maybe leave him wanting more. A girl can plot and plan, right?

Sure enough, my lipstick looks like I just finished blowing the entire Seattle Coyotes football team. Like, how the fuck does that even happen? I was just drinking my champagne, and yet there’s red smeared all over the place. Jesus.

I grab a paper towel—no wait, that’s cloth, fancy bathroom-having motherfuckers—and wipe off the mess, grabbing my lipstick out of my bra to reapply. 

Yes, my bra is basically the female equivalent of a tool belt, but since my dress doesn’t have pockets, I resort to this bullshit whenever I’m forced to forgo my usual badass boss bitch wear and class it up.

The door creaks open, but I don’t bother looking at whoever’s just coming into the bathroom. That’s not exactly a comfortable thing when you need to pee, and every chick in the place turns to look at you squeezing your legs together and hurrying toward the stall. 

My lips are sufficiently painted in red again, and I grin, checking my teeth for rogue lipstick. Once I’m sure I don’t look like a clown, I pop the lid on and slip it back into the side of my bra, wiggling the girls a bit to make sure everything’s even in there and my cleavage is on point. 

A statuesque brunette saunters up beside me in that way that screams old money—you know, like she’s actually floating across the ground rather than daring to step foot down onto the floor like some fucking peasant—and looks down her nose at me, sneering like she’s smelled something bad.

Though, maybe that’s just her face. Her admittedly stunningly gorgeous face. 

Bitch.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask in my sweetest voice that’s also super snotty. I really hope it’s coming through how much I want to tell her to go ram her vibrator up her desert-dry cooch and relax. Hopefully, it’s the kind that has the rabbit ears because I’m not a heathen and even bitchy girls deserve clit stimulation sometimes.

“Yeah, you can stop staring at my date.” Her voice is nice and icy, and I almost want to high-five her for how well she’s pulling off this whole Cruella de Ville vibe right now. 

I make a whole show of looking around the entire bathroom, noting we’re the only two in here. “Did you happen to take yourself to this little soiree or…?”

She rolls her eyes like I’m dense, and I’m seriously tempted to kick her shin with my Louboutin’s. That four-inch heel is quite the weapon when pissed off enough to wield it. “I came here with Ronin. I saw you practically undressing him with your eyes.”

Oh, honey. If she only knew I was also imagining using my tongue to explore all the uncharted territory of his muscular physique, her head might actually fly off her body. 

“Yeah, and?” I tap my fingernails on the marble counter beyond over this conversation. 

She grits her teeth, the perfect pearly white expanse of them showing too much, so her smile comes off just a touch psychotic. Really, it fits her perfectly. “Considering he’s my boyfriend, I’m going to go ahead and say he’s not interested. Stay away.”

Without giving me a chance to claw her eyes out or anything, she spins, and I curse as I have to duck out of the way of her epic hair flip as she exits the room. I’m not going to acknowledge the way my stomach dropped at her words or the way I want to punch the wall or, you know, her stupid face.

Nope. I’m not going to admit that shit is disappointing, even though I’m definitely not looking for a hookup and also definitely not trying to get underneath—or on top of—a guy I have to regularly see at work. Doesn’t matter that he’s perfect and sinfully hot, the kind that has me drenched and panting the second I’m in his presence. 

Does. Not. Matter.

Because it’s gotta be easy to find more than one of those, right? They say there’s one person out there for everyone, but who’s they that they get to be in charge of something like that? Whoever they are, fuck them, and I refuse to buy into that because if it’s true…

What am I supposed to do now?

Sorry For the Delay

I know, I know. It’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything on this blog, but there’s a good reason—promise! I’ve been hard at work writing Griffin. This book… it’s testing me, y’all. I’ve had to do so much research to try and get everything just right.

The Shadow Phoenix crew is going on tour in Griffin’s book, and while it’s not a huge tour, I want you to feel like you’re experiencing some of the places they go right there along with Magnolia and Griffin (and, of course, some of the other guys and girls from the group).

So, I plan on getting back into more detailed blogs soon, just as soon as I finish writing this book. I’ve got less than three weeks to get everything done and the stress is legit kicking my ass.

I’m off to get this manuscript finished so I can get it into your hands… or devices. But in the meantime, read on for a little sneak peek of a silly and sweet moment between Griff and Mags.

Griffin

Magnolia raised her eyebrow at me and I laughed. “What? You know I’m from Texas.”

“Yeah, but you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who listens to a whole lot of country music,” she noted, letting her stunning blue gaze run over all my tattoos and piercings and my body heated under her scrutiny. Again.

“Well, ma’am, give me any country song from the nineties and I could probably sing along,” I drawled, letting the twang I’d worked hard to bury pop out in an over-exaggerated way and she giggled. It was a sound I hadn’t heard from her yet, but one that had everything inside me lighting up. 

Instead of continuing our banter, she turned on the stage and looked out into the empty auditorium, breathing in deeply. “Just think about all the people who’ve stood on this stage in the last ninety-five years,” she mused. “The music that’s been played and all the people in the audience who had a chance to come out and see the show, no matter what was going on in their lives. They all came together to enjoy something special. It’s really incredible when you think about it.”

I stepped up beside her and looked out into the rows of empty seats. The Grand Ole Opry was a place of musical legend, and just like Magnolia, I never thought I’d be standing on this stage. This was one of those places on every musician’s bucket list--no matter how famous or not famous you were. “What show do you wish you could’ve seen?”

What I'm Working On

With the release of Playing Jericho, I haven’t been great about blogging. On the one hand, I was busy rushing to get it done on time. On the other hand, I’m fairly lazy when it comes to keeping up with my social media. Or anything, really, but that’s for another day (procrastination is another one of my many, many talents lol).

So… I did a thing. A sort of crazy thing that my husband challenged me to do—write my next book in just two months. I’m the type of girl who doesn’t appreciate when someone tells me I can’t do something so I went all challenge accepted on him and here we are. Me, writing Taming Griffin in just two months from start to finish.

Am I stressed about it? Sort of. But I’m surprisingly making decent progress on the manuscript and it’s going better than I thought. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Griffin and Magnolia’s story came really easy to me. Where Jericho and Moon were a total struggle every step of the way, I knew who Magnolia was right from the start.

Griffin… I always thought he’d fit in well with his brother in the loveable asshole category, but when I actually started writing him, he quickly let me know he was more like True than any of the other guys. He’s sweet and younger than the rest of the guys of Shadow Phoenix, and with his youth comes a certain naivety.

He grew up in a happy home with parents who always supported him, so he never really learned about the hardships the world has to offer. When he starts his journey with SP—a job he got pretty easily because of who his brother is—he has no clue about people’s nefarious intentions and motivations, or that someone might get close to him because of what he has to offer, not because of who he is.

Magnolia… she has some serious baggage she brings with her on tour. In Taming Griffin, we follow the band on a nationwide tour, one that Magnolia’s responsible for managing. She has her own reasons for wanting to be on the road and never staying in one place for too long, and none of them are good.

I’m excited to share more sneaks of the sweet but sexy Griffin, and the sassy Southern Magnolia. Read on for an unedited sneak peek!

Magnolia

“Did you enjoy the show?” a smooth, deep voice asked from right over my shoulder and I spun, throwing my fist right at his face. Griffin reacted so fast, he managed to catch my punch instead of letting it smash into his too-perfect face. “Damn, what’d I do to piss you off this time? I was coming to apologize.”

I jerked my hand out of the hold he had on it, horrified at myself for reacting that way. I learned a long time ago someone sneaking up on me wasn’t a good thing and now I reacted accordingly. “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to sneak up a woman?” I snapped, my heart racing a million miles an hour.

He studied my face carefully before lifting his hands in surrender and taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He raked his fingers through the damp strands of his wavy brown hair. “I wanted to apologize again for this morning. It was unprofessional of me to not even let you know I wouldn’t be able to make it, and it won’t happen again.”

Taming Griffin releases 12/22!

Jericho Sneak Peek: Chapter One

Like I did with Maddox, I wanted to share with you the (unedited!) first chapter of Jericho. I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll keep saying it but Jericho is DARK y’all. He’s damaged and gives zero fucks about making other people happy. He is who he is and likes what he likes. HEADS UP: This sneak is NSFW.

Jericho

“Is he dead?” one of the voices in my ear wondered.

“He’s on mute but he’s still there,” I answered, adjusting my headset. My eyes were locked onto the screen and I gripped my controller tightly in my hands. My team and I had spent more hours than was healthy over the last week trying to get past this mission and it looked like this would be the time if no one fucked it up.

“We have to wait for him to respawn,” the slightly husky and sexy as hell voice belonging to the only girl on our team responded and I tried not to notice how my already rapid heartbeat kicked up to a new level. That was nothing new where LunaGirl was concerned.

“Alright, he’s here. Let’s roll out,” DeathMinion, the fourth member of our team commanded and I tried not to bristle. Taking directions from others wasn’t something I easily did. Ever.

We crept along deserted streets, focused in on our target. Just as we reached the objective, all hell broke loose. We’d come prepared but the other team were better and we quickly got our asses handed to us. Again.

I repressed the urge to smash my controller against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, I’m out. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” DeathMinion said before signing off of the game. Once he was gone, FatUncle followed him and that just left LunaGirl and me. A devilish grin crossed my face.

“Hey, Luna,” I breathed into the mic, lowering my voice to almost a growl.

She laughed that throaty laugh of hers that always turned me the fuck on. “Hey, Wicked. Nice campaign, even if we did get our asses kicked.”

Flirting with Luna over this game was what I looked forward to most these days. It wasn’t playing sold out shows with Shadow Phoenix, the band I was a drummer for. It wasn’t accepting awards, doing interviews, or any of the other boring-ass shit that came along with being someone famous. Nope. It was this right here—LunaGirl and her sultry voice. Her and this game were the only places I let myself really be who I was deep down inside. The only safe places I had to let the darkness out to play because LunaGirl got off on my need for control.

“Speaking of asses,” I started, leaning back into the soft pillows on my couch and getting comfortable. “I bet you’ve got some hot as fuck silky or lacy panties covering yours, don’t you?”

Luna laughed again, softer this time and more mischievous. “Wrong.”

I licked my lips, leaning forward and resting my elbow on my knees. If anyone knew the version of me that I let LunaGirl see, they’d be shocked. To the rest of the world, right down to my closest friends and bandmates, parents, even my best friend, Kennedy, I was a shy, quiet guy. But Luna knew the real me, even if she didn’t know who I was in real life. 

And the real me was one twisted motherfucker.

I lowered my voice even further, adding a hardness to let her know I wasn’t to be fucked with. “You know better than to lie to me, Luna.”

“Oh, I’m not lying, Wicked. It’s just… I knew we’d be playing tonight and I decided not to wear panties at all.”

The irritation at her disobedience faded and my desire ramped up in its place, but I wouldn’t let her know.“Did I tell you you could play without panties?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing. That’s not how this works, you know the rules. When it comes to your body and your pleasure, who’s in charge?”

Her soft intake of breath was music to my ears. “You are.”

Luna’s compliance made my dick harden and I slid my hand down my body until my palm rested on my firm length. I squeezed to give myself some of the friction I craved and held back the groan wanting to escape my lips. Instead, I refocused my attention on the girl in my headset, the one giving herself over to me so freely.

“Yes. I am. Which means next time you don’t go without panties unless I say you can. Understood?”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice breathless. That one word out of her lips turned my cock to fucking granite, her whispered agreement everything I needed and she was the only one who I allowed to give it to me.

“Good. Now, are you wearing a skirt like I told you to?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Put your hand on your chest and slowly slide it down every curve of your body,” I commanded, wishing like hell I could watch her do it. “And stop just before you touch your sweet little pussy.”

I leaned back into the cushion behind me again, undoing the button on my jeans and sliding the zipper down. Listening to every hitch in her breathing, every shift of clothing and skin, I reveled in the small whimpers and sounds of pleasure Luna made on the other end of the headset.

“I’m there,” she practically moaned and I knew if I was in the same room as her, she’d be on the verge of begging for me to touch her. To glide my tongue along her hot core until she quivered and screamed and came undone under my touch.

Instead, we had this. And I wasn’t complaining, but sometimes I wanted more. “Now, take those soft fingers and slip them down over your clit.”

Her breathing sped up as she obeyed, but I was only getting started. “Does that feel good?”

Her affirmation came as a moan that washed over my body. The sounds she made spread heat through every single vein until I was burning with a hunger so intense I might fucking explode. But still I wouldn’t let her hear the effect she had on me.

Based on the sounds she was making and the fact we’d done this countless times over the last six months, I could tell she was getting close to coming. “Stop,” I demanded, stroking my cock another couple of times while I listened to her let out a shuddering breath.

She whimpered. “What?”

“I said fucking stop.” I left no room for her to question me in my tone but she did it anyway.

“Why?”

“Not that I have to explain myself, but you knew the rules and you went against them anyway. Next time you think about doing something without asking me first, remember how this feels.” Yes, I was aware I could be a cold bastard. Cruel even. It was part of why I hid my true self from the world. Because I fucking liked how I was and that scared me sometimes. 

She huffed but didn’t argue. I’d trained her well. “Now, you don’t touch yourself until we talk tomorrow, Luna, or next time your punishment will be a lot fucking worse. Do you understand?”

“Fine, Wicked.” The irritation in her tone made me smile. It pissed her off that I wasn’t letting her come, but she liked this game we played just as much as I did. And I imagined that in her normal, real life she didn’t let anyone else boss her around or tell her what to do. We existed in this tiny bubble where we gave each other what we needed.

“Same time then?” I asked casually, aware that neither one of us were getting off tonight and tucking my still-hard shaft back into my jeans.

“Yes,” she snapped. Her frustration oozed through the headset and I grinned like I’d won a fucking prize. Why the fuck was I like that?

“Have a good night, LunaGirl. And remember what I said. No touching.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she grumbled so quiet I almost couldn’t hear her and I fought back a laugh. The girl had a toughness to her that I admired even if I craved her submission.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Talk to you tomorrow, Wicked.” 

“Not quite, Luna. I heard what you said and I won’t stand for that shit. And as you suggested, I think I will fuck myself. And you’re going to listen to me do it without touching your soaking wet pussy.” I pulled my dick back out and wrapped my fingers around it, moving my fist up and down as I imagined burying myself inside Luna.

Gripping my shaft harder, I flexed my hips upward, pushing my cock further into my grasp and stroking the tip, finding a rhythm that brought me closer and closer to relief. Distantly, I was aware of Luna’s irritated silence, but that only served to stoke my arousal. 

My cock got impossibly harder and I finally found my release, letting out a low groan of pleasure and coming all over my hand. My body shuddered as satisfaction carried all the way down to my toes curled into the carpet under my feet. I made a fucking mess but it was worth it. “Luna?”

“Yes?” she grit out, her annoyance palpable through the speaker.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, beautiful girl. And I hope you don’t deprive yourself tomorrow by misbehaving.”

She sighed. “Goodnight, Wicked.”

She signed off and then I was alone, how I usually liked to be. I pulled off the headset, relishing the quiet. It was a rare commodity in my life and when the band wasn’t touring or promoting a new album, I tried to spend as much time in the silence as I could.

But now I had energy to work off. Pent up sexual energy. Despite my climax a few minutes ago, I barely felt any relief. This thing I had going with LunaGirl wasn’t going to be enough for much longer. I briefly wondered whether she’d be interested in a more up close and personal relationship before dismissing the idea.

Standing up, my jeans fell to the floor and I stepped out of them before bending down to pick them up and folding them neatly. Crossing the house, I went into my bedroom and put them in their drawer before I pulled my boxer briefs down and stepped out of them. Digging through a different drawer, I found my favorite pair of swim shorts and pulled them on.

Grabbing a towel on my way to my backyard and the inviting pool there, my mind drifted back to thoughts of Luna. If my face wasn’t so fucking recognizable, meeting her in person wouldn’t be a problem. But all it would take was one picture, one recording, one video, or even just one well-timed story to any media outlet anywhere to fuck up my whole world.

I snorted, imagining what my parents would say if they found out the kind of man I really was. The kind filled with darkness he was afraid to let out. They already regretted adopting me. Despite my success, they never let me forget what a disappointment I was to them. They’d told me the story of how I’d come to be theirs a thousand times, but the weight of their expectations had nearly crushed me. The only child they’d ever have, brought into their life to fill a void they couldn’t fill on their own.

But I had to live my life on my terms, even if that meant a shitty relationship with my parents. Still, I didn’t want to embarrass them. In their minds, it was bad enough that I was a celebrity. They hated my fame more than I did. So, I kept my desires and my true nature well-hidden, locked deep down in a box wrapped in titanium chains. The only person who had the key was LunaGirl and even then, I kept her at arm’s length.

Tossing the towel onto the plush lounge chair, I dove into the lukewarm water, gliding through the liquid until my lungs burned and I was forced to come up for air. The weight of the water pressed against my body on all sides, and I found it comforting like I always did. This was where I found my peace, slicing through the water with the world muffled. Nothing could touch me here, not even the air. 

Lap after lap I pushed myself, kicking off the wall again and again until every muscle burned and I was gasping for air. I finally surfaced, pushing my hair back off of my forehead and wiping the water droplets away. I blinked up at the setting sun, wondering if it was still light wherever Luna was, or if, like her name, she was looking up at the bright moonlight. 

I also wondered if a day would come where she wasn’t the first thing I thought about when I woke up or the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.

***

After wearing myself out in the pool last night, I fell into a fitful sleep. Visions of a faceless girl haunted me all night long and I woke up unsettled. But I had shit to do, so I couldn’t afford to linger on whatever the fuck my subconscious was doing.

Instead, I got up, swam my morning laps in the pool, and headed to the studio to meet the guys. We were recording our eighth album and I still couldn’t quite believe that shit. It blew my mind that anyone wanted to listen to the music we made, let alone millions of people around the world. 

Maybe if we weren’t so hugely popular, I wouldn’t have to hide my true self. But our following showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, we picked up more and more fans with every album we released. I was almost numb to it now.

Sometimes I wondered what my life would look like if I walked away. If I’d be free.

But there was a deep-seated need inside me to create. To express parts of myself that had no other outlet. And if I lost that, I wasn’t sure what I would become.

Walking through the nondescript front door of Mixed, the studio the label picked to record this album, the neon blue lighting tinted everything, including the five guys who were standing around waiting for me. I fucking hated being late and gritted my teeth, holding back the swell of annoyance and my desire to lash out. Instead, I pulled the drumsticks I always carried around out of my back pocket and started twirling them as I sat on the white leather sofa next to Maddox.

“Nice of you to join us,” his clipped words chafed at my need to cause pain, but I swallowed it down and adopted my usual mask of indifference instead. I never let my emotions control me. It was too dangerous. 

“I think so,” I retorted, ignoring his glare and instead focusing on spinning the wooden stick between my fingers in a calming rhythm. 

We were all feeling on edge, but I was the only one who kept that shit locked inside. Everyone wore their stress in the form of creased brows, scowls, and flattened lips. I could practically cut the frustration in the room with a knife. And it all centered on one man and one man only: Richard Bennett. 

“If you guys are ready, I’d like to get started this century,” the engineer slash producer snapped and I watched as the temperature in the room dropped a solid ten degrees and the tension skyrocketed. Maddox’s jaw ticked, Zen’s nostrils flared, and the arms folded across True’s chest flexed as if he were holding himself back from launching his fists at Richard’s face.

Even Griffin, Maddox’s brother who’d been hanging around the band for the past couple of months, had his eyes narrowed in the direction of the asshole who refused to do his fucking job. All of our band meetings before we ever stepped into a studio, all the writing sessions Zen had done, this fucking guy was ignoring all of it. Everything we knew we wanted, he didn’t give one single fuck.

If he got his way, this album would be whatever cheesy-ass washed out version of music he and the record label decided they wanted from us. But we had no plans of letting that shit slide.

No, we’d put up one hell of a fight if we had to. I almost hoped he wouldn’t do what we asked, because the part of me that craved violence and darkness would throw a goddamn party if I let it out to play with this asshole.

I wasn’t sure he was worth it.

“Maybe if you’d listen to our fucking ideas, we’d already be done,” Maddox grumbled next to me before lifting up off the couch and stalking into the booth.

Zen stared down Richard with a glare that could have melted steel, while True and I followed Maddox into the booth. Griffin settled himself into the couch while Zen was the last to move behind the glass, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls shook.

It was a really great environment to be creative in. Internally, I rolled my eyes at my own sarcasm. I stepped behind my drum set, lowering down onto the stool. True and Maddox picked up their instruments and Zen pulled on his headphones and moved in front of the microphone.

On the other side of the glass, Richard sat in the white office chair behind the mixing board. He leaned forward, pressing the button that let him talk to us in the soundproofed room. “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Zen glanced back at me and I nodded before smacking my sticks together a couple of times and then hitting them against the snare in front of me in a punishing rhythm. We had a vision for this album and we all felt as a band that we’d earned the right to some creative freedom. We’d done whatever the fuck the studio wanted us to for the last seven. This one was ours. 

Stopping us halfway through the song, I gritted my teeth to keep from snapping. Working with Richard over the past month was always like this. I was completely fucking over it.

“What now, Dick?” Maddox taunted, his voice laced with the contempt we were all feeling.

“Your bass line’s off. And why is there no chord change in the middle eight?” he demanded and I wanted to climb over my drum set and shove my stick through his goddamn eye. No fucking way was the tempo of my bass line off. I was a fucking legend when it came to rhythm and this douche expected us to believe I was the problem here?

“Yeah, I’m out,” I declared, standing up and tucking my sticks into my back pocket. The guys didn’t even hesitate, putting their instruments into their cases and filing out of the studio behind me. Griffin rose up off the couch and joined our parade past Richard and toward the door.

I held up my middle finger as I passed by the producer on my way out.

“Where the hell are you going? We’ve got the studio reserved all day!” Richard yelled, his face turning a fucked up shade of reddish-purple. 

“We’re done compromising our music for what you or the label thinks is right. Let us know when you’re ready to just let us fucking play and we’ll be back.” Zen pushed through the front door and we all followed. I gave Dick another one fingered salute before I followed Griffin outside.

“What now?” True asked, hefting his guitar case into the back of his Jeep.

“My house,” I said, sliding into my car. “We’ll record it the way we want and I’ll play around with the composition and see if I can get the sound we’re looking for.”

Zen nodded and Maddox and Griffin got into Mad’s Maclaren, pulling the doors down to close them. Fuck the label and fuck Dick. My adrenaline spiked as a spark of excitement took root inside me. I was itching to test out everything I’d been messing around with in my home studio and thanks to an incompetent exec at the label, it looked like I’d get my chance.

Are you getting excited yet?? Jericho releases 10/20/20.

Meet: Jericho

When I originally came up with my first book idea in Finding Zen, I knew I was going to be writing about a band of guys. I like reading books in a series, so that’s what I wanted to write. So, I had to decide how many guys and how the band would be put together.

It didn’t take long for me to decide I wanted four guys, and for the four of them to start to show me their identities. Well, I should say three of them. Jericho… he’s been a tough nut to crack.

Originally, I thought he was going to be this super shy guy who had a really hard time in social situations, particularly with women. I was also going to have him originally born in Japan and brought to the US as a kid. But, the more I wrote the other guy’s stories with Jericho in the background, the more he changed and his character became something totally different than who I thought he was.

As you’ll read in Shadow Phoenix, Jericho’s not shy AT ALL. He’s quietly controlled and only speaks when he has something to say, not to fill the noise. He was adopted as a baby and doesn’t know his birth parents, but his adoptive parents were cold and unaffectionate.

He didn’t have a bad childhood, per se, but it was lonely and impersonal. His parents had their own lives and at a certain point, he didn’t really fit into them anymore. He used to spend a lot of time wondering why they even wanted him in the first place.

They’re not supportive of him or his career choices, and because of that he’s not close to them. He doesn’t have any siblings that he’s aware of, and so when True recruits him for the band, he jumps in with both feet. The guys become his brothers and are the only people in the world he lets see the real him. The only people he really, fully trusts.

Jericho has a dark streak to him and it presents itself in more ways than one. It comes out quite a bit in SP, but you’ll get to see a whole lot more of the darkness inside him in Playing Jericho. Unleashing his true self has been one of my favorite things but also some of the hardest words I’ve ever written. But I needed to let Jericho be who he was meant to be even if that wasn’t who I thought he should be, and isn’t that just the story of his life?

Two more members to go… Do you have a favorite yet?

What I Wrote This Week

I spent the majority of this week working on two things: An overhaul of Finding Zen and the Shadow Phoenix prequel (which as of now is tentatively named Shadow Phoenix).

Finding Zen was my first ever novel, and as a writer I think I’ve come a long way since I wrote it, even though I started it almost exactly one year ago. I learned tons through the whole process and while I still love the bones of the story, I think there are some things that could use tightening up—plot holes I missed the first time around being one of them.

So, I’ve been meticulously going through each chapter with a lot of help and polishing up the story to make it better. As of now, I’m more than halfway through it and would really like to have uploaded the new version by next week.

As far as Shadow Phoenix… This one’s going to be intense. It’s a prequel and will be a novella, so it won’t be quite as long, but it centers around the band’s formation and the main relationship focus is on the guys’ friendship. Now, that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The debauchery in this book isn’t quite like anything you’ve seen me write before. But that’s what makes it fun!

Exploring all sorts of dark angles and themes has been a blast so far. I still don’t have a release date for this one, yet, but as it gets closer I’ll let you know. The story is told from four points of view—Maddox, True, Zen, and Jericho. You’ll get a deep dive into the personalities and inner workings of each guy and the stuff they’ve gone through to get to where they are.

You’ll get to watch their rise to stardom and experience their ups and downs along the way. And let me tell you, you’re in for quite a ride. So keep your eyes peeled to future posts for more sneak peeks and details as I hammer this one out.

And if you want to read an small (unedited) excerpt, keep scrolling.

Maddox

I held up the bottle I’d swiped off of the shelf next to the office door on my way out, tilting it side to side. “Want a drink?”

Zen sat back down and I sat next to him, crossing my ankle over my knee as I leaned back into the cool leather and twisted the cap off of the bottle. I took a giant swig before passing him the container. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip before lowering it back down. “Are you going to get anything done while we’re here?”

Shrugging, I grabbed the bottle back from him. “Not ink. I’ve always wanted to pierce something, though.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Really? Please don’t say your cock.”

I tossed my head back and laughed. I hadn’t been considering it but now that he mentioned it, it wasn’t the worst idea. The thought of some long-ass needle being stuck through my dick was cringeworthy, even if it meant greater pleasure later. No fucking thank you.

“Nah, maybe my nose like True. Or a nipple.”

“A nipple,” Zen repeated incredulously. “Why the fuck would you want to pierce your nipple?”

“Why not? I think it’s hot when guys have their nipples pierced.” I took another pull from the bottle, feeling the effects of the liquor as it warmed my blood and I relaxed further into the sofa.

“If you say so.” Zen reached for the bottle. 

Sneak Peek: Saving Maddox Prologue

I’ve been busy writing away on book three of the Shadow Phoenix series - Saving Maddox! It’s coming along great and I can’t wait to share it with you next month. Maddox and Ryan are childhood best friends and are finding their way back to each other.

You can read the prologue below to get a sneak peek into how their friendship started.

Prologue

Ryan

“I bet she has a dick, too!” Tyler shouted through his laughter. 

Oh, no. Not again. 

I tried to curl into myself as my cheeks burned. I’d gotten used to Tyler and Jacob teasing me, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing. Just because I wore pants instead of dresses and liked playing sports with the boys during recess didn’t mean I was a boy.

“What do you say, Ryan? How ‘bout we see for ourselves?” Jacob taunted as they moved toward me. I couldn’t let them pull down my pants in front of everyone. My heart was pounding and my eyes darted around, looking for anyone to help me. But all the other kids crowded around the bus stop were ignoring me.

As I continued to back up, step by step trying to put distance between me and my bullies, my chin wobbled. Even as my eyes stung, I refused to cry. These two boys had been bothering me all year. I didn’t wear a ponytail in my hair anymore because if I did, they’d pull my hair. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just leave me alone. What did it matter that my parents had given me a boy’s name? I’d always thought my name was cool and different. I was proud of it.

At least until this year. Now I wished my name was anything else so I could blend in. My sister Charlie told me to ignore them, that they were  picking on me because they liked me. I didn’t believe her, though. Why would they call me names or hurt me if they thought I was pretty? It didn’t make sense. Why would they embarrass me in front of everyone over and over again?

My back hit the signpost that marked the stop and I tripped, falling onto the dusty dirt-covered ground and scraped my palms and knees. I tried not to show fear, lifting my chin and narrowing my eyes defiantly at the boys who towered over me.

“Leave me alone,” I said with a shaky voice.

“Boys aren’t allowed to cry, Ryan. If you cry, I’ll punch you.” Jacob moved his lanky body toward me. He was only ten, like me, but he was the tallest kid in my class. When he was standing practically on top of me, his shadow blocked out the sun and I looked up into his face. He wore a sneer that made him look like he’d smelled something bad. 

I was more convinced than ever that Charlie was dead wrong. These boys didn’t like me. They hated me. Tyler sauntered over to me and reached down, wrapping his hand around my upper arm and squeezing so hard it hurt. I flinched and tried to pull away, but he was stronger than I was. 

My lungs were burning because I was breathing so fast but I couldn’t lose focus. I kicked out my foot and hit Tyler in the shin and he squeezed harder. “Jake, grab her other arm.”

Jacob reached down and dug his stubby nails into my skin and even though I tried to completely relax my body so I’d be harder to pick up, they still dragged me to my feet.

“Please don’t do this,” I begged, hating myself for showing weakness. They looked at each other and then cracked up laughing which made me cringe. I hadn’t done myself any favors trying to get them to stop but I had to try. They’d humiliated me over and over, putting paint on my chair so I ruined my pants and had to walk away with red marks on my butt all day, tripping me when I walked up to turn in my homework. 

They’d done too much stuff to even count, every time breaking another little part of me down. This year, I’d gone from happy and carefree to the mess I was right now, shaking and on the verge of tears. Tyler and Jacob made me feel weak and I hated it. When I get bigger, I’ll never let anyone make me feel weak again. But right now, there was nothing I could do.

Even if I was strong enough, two on one wasn’t a fair fight.

Tyler let go of my arm and I swung back to punch him, but Jacob caught my flying fist and trapped both of my hands behind my back while Tyler gripped the waist of my jeans. He’d have to unbutton them to pull them down and I twisted, trying to keep the clasp away from his grubby fingers.

“Let her go.” A low, menacing voice came from behind me and relief washed over me. Someone noticed. Someone cared enough to take on my two bullies for me. It started to sink in that the group of kids at the bus stop wouldn’t be seeing my underwear today and I could cry from happiness.

Tyler laughed at my mystery guardian. He still stood behind me and I couldn’t turn myself to see who it was. “I don’t think I want to. What do you think, Jake?”

Jacob glanced uneasily behind me and back to his friend. “I don’t know, Ty. Maybe we should see Ryan during recess instead.”

Tyler’s hands were pried off of my arms and I shook out my wrists before turning around. I had to tilt my chin up to see him, but the boy who saved me wasn’t a stranger. He lived on the ranch next door and I’d met him a handful of times, but we weren’t friends. He missed more school than he went to, so I didn’t see him at the bus stop very often.

I guess today was my lucky day since he’d shown up and stepped in. His dark eyes locked on mine, anger and concern swirled in them and I didn’t want to look away. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Thank you.” I couldn’t think of anything better to say. 

He pulled me so I was standing behind him and straightened himself up to his full twelve-year-old height. “If you touch her again, I’ll kill you. Both of you.” The threat in his voice gave me chills. It didn’t feel like he was kidding to me and I think Tyler and Jacob felt the same way. They backed up, hands raised in the air and ran back to the rest of the group.

The boy stepped forward and grabbed my backpack, dusting it off before handing it back to me. “Those assholes shouldn’t bother you anymore but if they do, you tell me.” His eyes were hard and he cracked his knuckles.

“I will. Thanks again. By the way, I’m Ryan. I think you live next door, right?” I wasn’t in a hurry to move away from my protector. I glanced around him, eyeing Jacob and Tyler wearily. They were whispering to each other and looking my way. I didn’t have high hopes that they’d listen to the boy and leave me alone.

“I’m Maddox.” His lips tilted up on one side into a sort of amused half smile. “Yep, we’re neighbors.” He followed my gaze to Tyler and Jacob and his eyes narrowed before he looked back at me. “I mean it, Ryan. From now on, you wait for me in the morning and we’ll come to the bus stop together. After school, I’ll walk you home. If they bother you during school, I need you to tell me, okay?”

Tearing my gaze off of my bullies, I looked into his eyes, studying them. Did he mean it? The small golden flecks dotting the beautiful dark brown of his irises was mesmerizing. My cheeks heated again when he cleared his throat and I looked away. I’d never given a boy a second glance before but Maddox had saved me. His dark hair fell into his eyes and I suddenly wanted to reach up and brush it away so I could get another glimpse of the galaxy hidden in his gaze.

“What?” I finally managed.

His laugh was dark and low, like he knew he’d caught me staring at him and I shuffled my feet, kicking up some dust as the bus pulled up. “From now on, we go to and from school together. And you sit by me on the bus.”

“Okay,” I quickly agreed. I felt safe with Maddox. If it meant freedom from Tyler and Jacob, I’d gladly follow him around all day. A flush crept up my neck again when he reached for my hand, tugging me toward the bus. I’d never be able to thank him enough for what he did for me today.

The boy next door was a mystery, one I suddenly wanted to discover more than anything.