Sizzle Book 1 in the st. martin family saga: emergency responders:
A Louisiana fireman, St. Martin liked his hoses bound tight and his women bound tighter. He’d not had a traditional relationship in years and was positive he’d found the answer to all his needs and desires: The Hoodoo Pot—Baton Rouge’s elite members only sex and bondage club.
Ivey had escaped the clutches of her evil ex, but still she constantly looked over her shoulder. That is, until she met Clay. At six feet five, he was a king among men. She’d certainly like to be his queen.
He’d rescued her from a hurricane’s lashing winds and rising water, but his first mistake was in bringing her home. Yet she’d had nowhere to go. A bigger mistake would have been not going back for her.
And now neither of them wanted her to leave. The only thing to do was let the storm rage outside while they focused on the personal storm raging between their bodies.
A storm that was advancing on their hearts.
Sieze Book 2 in the St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders:
liked his job as Sheriff of East Baton Rouge Parish. He liked the town and the town’s women, some said too much, but he’d never heard any of them complain. He wasn’t interested in monogamy, a fact most single women in town had come to understand. He loved his family and friends and when his best friend, Clay, needed his help, he jumped at the chance to use his skills as a former Marine Corps field extraction expert.
While Augie thrived when life ran calm and controlled, his current situation was anything but. had entered his life and dumped it on its head. To top it off, she was so not his type. He preferred large breasted Southern blondes with experience in the sack. Mia was slim, Canadian, and to his utter disbelief, a twenty five year old virgin.
When Mia woke, she had a new name, and a new ring. She just hoped like hell she’d not missed the wedding consummation.
Surge Book 3 in the St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders:
family took in when, at the age of seventeen, he’d lost his parents. The St. Martins were the only family he had. When his connection with Clara developed into something stronger, he couldn’t feel remorseful. What he did feel was warmth, hope, and love. Ten years later it was time to tell the family—he wouldn’t let their love be a lie any longer.
When he came to live with them, Clara knew one day she’d marry him. She just didn’t know her family wouldn’t be on board with the plans. Sure, Jackson was much older than her and yeah, they’d jumped the gun on intimacy, but she’d needed Jackson’s touch that day and he’d needed hers. They planned to marry once he finished medical school, but when Clara’s brother found out about their two-year relationship he beat the good doctor’s face until he was unrecognizable.
Jackson couldn’t see a way they could be together and she wouldn’t have to make a choice between him and her family. He knew what it was to go through life without the support of family and he wouldn’t let her choose him over the St. Martins.
Google Play: http://tinyurl.com/nn7fyu7
By day I’m training young women to become speech therapists. At night I sip red wine, dial down all distractions, and sink into the fictional worlds I create. Good tunes on my iPod are a must. I get so caught up in my characters that I truly wish the male hero would materialize in the flesh; especially when I see the cover image…I swoon.
I have spent the past several years working as a university instructor. My students are young adult females so I’m constantly running plot lines and book covers by them. They make a great beta team! I love my job at the university but there is something I love even more. . . romance novels. I'll read any genre as long as there are steamy sex scenes and the standard issue HEA ending. Initially I was drawn in by the escape and sweeping emotion of it all, so much so, I began to create my own fictional world.
Since I worked during the day my nights were consumed with writing. I was powerless to stop the stories that wanted to be freed from my mind. I actually started to get mixed up. I would think something I wrote at night was something I had said during the working day and vice versa. My friends were worried for my sanity but I assured them I had not gone mad, I was just writing. Once I started I wrote upwards of 3,000 words per day.
It was in the early millennium when I became brave enough to share my stories with others. I began to post my stories on fiction websites and then something marvelous happened—I was followed by hundreds of eager readers. I loved my followers and their kind words helped motivate me.
These days I am writing books and I’ve learned some things about myself during the process. I like to write series novels because I have trouble letting go. I like a little plot with my . Call it what you will, but I have to have a good story in which to sink my teeth. If I start writing a story I have to finish it, even if it’s terrible.
My dog is my muse and when he tilts his forehead at me and blinks his large black eyes questioningly at me, I think he is worried I've been sucked into the wormhole of the very fiction that I write. I appreciate his concern but I have yet to fall down the rabbit hole. Here's to everyone else in my boat, may our voyage become a permanent destination.