Saturday, February 27, 2016

Mercy Denied: Trinity by Jacqueline M. Sinclair






Merrick

She and her friend set me up.  Then they sent those pictures to my wife.  Little did they know that she’d already left me and that I was devastated and ready to self-destruct.  Because of her, I lost everything I ever wanted … the only hope I had.  Now I will risk everything I have left to destroy her.  It doesn't matter why she did it, that she was hurting, or even that she was drunk. It doesn't matter that she looks at me like she sees into my soul. Does it? 

Trinity

Melanie was the one that’d sent those pictures to his wife, but it was me who’d told her to get her camera ready.  I’d been angry at my ex-fiance and took it out on Merrick, wanting to expose him for the cheater I thought he was.  I never dreamed it would go this far - that he would vow to destroy me. I’d take it all back if I could, but the damage is done.  My mother’s life’s work is at his mercy and he’s determined to make me feel the loss that I caused him.  Still, the way he looks at me I have to ask myself, did my poor choices wake the monster...or the man?






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Other Books in the Series



Margaret Wilson is eighteen
years old in 1969. The Vietnam War is raging. Her mother is dying and her
father is drowning in pain. She is sheltered, religious and completely
unprepared to fall in love with William Steele.

William has it all. A product
of his family’s legendary reputation, he’s rich, reckless and known for pushing
boundaries. He stands up to gossip by upping the ante, one rebellious night at
a time.

The reality of his world sweeps
away Margaret’s innocence and puts her in the middle of a place she’s never
known. With William at her side, she can’t help but question her own boundaries
and the temptation to ignore them is running high. Then, one night, one poor
decision and Margaret becomes the one with everything to lose.

Will their young love be strong
enough to hold it all together?




Jacqueline grew up in the rural
southeast and is the youngest child of a large and rowdy family. Reading was an
escape when there wasn't much else around to do. She loves everything from
classical literature to true crime and everything in between. With her two
children grown and gone, she's surrounded by a menagerie of adopted pets and a
two-legged thief who refused to give her heart back after a night of karaoke.



With a day job and a dream job, her writing is a steamy combination of real
life and seeking to answer the age-old question of what would happen if...and
then characters come along and completely derail the plan. Letting them have
their say provides plenty of sleepless nights and an endless combination of
coffee and wine, but she hopes you enjoy their stories.









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Marked

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“With everything I am. I’ll always be by your side.”
It was his truth.
A vow Talan made to the woman who owned him. Because that is what Maya did to him; she held his entire life in her hands. He lived for her smile…her happiness, and now someone has dimmed that light in her eyes with their malice.
His love for his Bitty has taken him past the breaking point, and he’s determined to make those that hurt her—pay. Blood. He wanted his hands on those that wronged—almost took her away from him.
Because if one thing was certain, it was that he breathed for her. It was her warmth and love that gave him a home—a purpose and desire for more, but now that had been threatened. Maya was in pain, and that for him was unbearable.
It was his fault. A fault that he would right no matter what he had to go through.
How does a man so completely in love with his female react to seeing her in a hospital bed and broken?
He fights. Goes against all logic and seeks vengeance.
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Excerpt
With the tip of my finger, I caressed her cheek before tipping her sad face toward mine. “Please don’t hide from me.” Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against hers—breathed in her every exhale. “I love you,” I repeated once again, this time against her lips. Lips that now pressed themselves against my own with fervor.
“Love you too,” she mumbled, mouth tightly pressed against mine.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” Another kiss. “I’m better, I promise.”
With a brow raised, I stared her down. “Don’t bullshit me.”
This time I got an eye roll and an annoyed huff. At the very least, her sass was still there. “Promise, I am. Now, quit being a pain in my injured ass and talk.”
Women. I bit her lip for the smart-ass remark before talking.
“Baby, when you were brought in, it was bad. We didn’t know anything, just that you were attacked and had lost a lot of blood at the scene.” I had to pause there and rein in my emotions. The resentment I held for the bitch and the piece of shit rich kid that helped her. Irritation with the lack of answers at that point—the fear I dealt with nearly bowled me over.
Maya didn’t need to see that.
“Please continue.”
Running the tips of my fingers through her loose curls, I found my center again. “It was bad, baby,” I whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You received a hairline fracture on the temporal bone after being hit repeatedly with a wooden—”
“Baseball bat,” she finished for me. “I remember that. I’d been at my car, on my phone with a friend when…”
Nodding, I reached up and, with the gentlest of touches, caressed her bandages. “Seeing you lying in that bed, unconscious, was one of the worst moments of my life. Pure fucking torture, not knowing when you’d wake up or what shape you’d be in. Head trauma, no matter how tiny, is dangerous. And you…fuck, Bitty.”
“Hey,” Maya breathed, wrapping her arms around my neck. The movement caused her to let out a low hiss, but before I could pull her off and check her out, she spoke. “I’m okay.”
It had the opposite effect. I hated those words with a passion.
“Stop. Don’t fucking placate me.”
“I’m not, Talan. Look at me.” Our eyes connected for a few seconds before I looked away and over toward the opposite wall. “I’m not broken. Hurt, yes, but not broken.”
Ignoring her words, I continued to talk as if on auto pilot. “Then, when you opened those beautiful grey eyes and with fear told me it was Janice, I...I want her blood on my hands for what she’s done to you.”
“That’s not a past-tense threat.”
“For as long as my heart beats inside my chest, I will protect you with every single breath I take.”
“I’ve never doubted that, but please, let the cops handle it. She’s not worth you dirtying your hands, baby.” While her pleading broke down my resolve for the briefest of seconds, looking at our surroundings brought it back. I wanted those two assholes dead. “I can see it on your face...no, Talan. Let them handle it.”
“I will.”
“Promise.”
“I do.” For now.
“Love you.”
“I know,” I replied cockily. “Now…” She let out a tiny giggle when I leaned in close and nipped her chin. “How about that shower?”

 

The Series

Marking Her

Marking Him

Scars

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f4cbe-about2bthe2bauthor
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.
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Friday, February 26, 2016

A Tainted Love Novella by Ghiselle St. James


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Seven years.

He's waited seven long years for his Firecracker to come back to him, but nothing comes easily, since complications threaten to rip them apart. Again.

Not if he can help it.

He will not rest until she is with him again, but Rachel has to fight - for herself and for him, too.

Is their story destined to be one complication after another? Or, after seven years apart, can their love come full circle?

Follow Marshall and Rachel as their love becomes...Complete.







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Just a bit of Complete... “Firecracker, does this feel like I don’t desire you?” Marshall grinds his groin into my ass, letting me feel his thickness. The resistance I have been putting up falls away like a thin layer of clothing. Heat settles in the pit of my stomach and a dull ache forms between my thighs.“I’ve wanted you every day since I saw you almost ten years ago, Rachel,” Marshall whispers into my neck as he nips along the column making me shudder. “I’ve never stopped wanting you,” he continues, his voice coming out gruff due to my grinding down on his thick, pulsing length. “I was just waiting on you to realize you wanted me too, and to stop being so fucking difficult.” “I’m sorry,” I apologize, because I really am. So caught up in my insecurities and fear, that I almost ruined the best thing to ever happen to me. “You were never in danger of losing me, Rae,” he lets me know while he holds my face in his hands. “’Til death, baby. Only death will keep us apart; and even then…” My lips crash to his with nothing more to say between us. Our bodies long to communicate in the best way we know how. Our bodies long to connect. My skin buzzes with heightened arousal as our tongues touch, an electric current zapping through me. “If you leave me, this earth, I will find you, Rachel,” he threatens. “You can’t leave me. Whatever happens, tell me we’ll face it together; that we’ll get through it together.” How can I deny him that? He wants to partake of my joy and my sorrow. He wants to be there with me through whatever life throws at us and here I am: wanting to bail. “If you leave me, I will rampage through Hell to drag you back to me,” he asserts and I can’t help but chuckle lightly. “You assume I’d go to Hell?” I question. “Hell is reserved for evil people, I hear,” he states. “And evil would be leaving me on this Earth to let other women have their ways with me.” That causes me pause. Looking over my shoulder, I pin him with serious eyes as I tell him, “If I die and that happens, know that you will have no peace. I will haunt you until you off yourself.” Marshall only smiles against my neck before saying, “Ditto.”

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Get to know Ghiselle St. James...

Ghiselle St. James is a Jamaican author who has a never-ending love for

written thoughts: poetry, song lyrics and non-fiction. She has been writing

erotic novels since she was 13 years old which made her popular with the

boys (hehe). Writing has been her outlet, as has singing, for most of her

life, and will continue to be.

I really hate talking about myself in the third person…

Having graduated in 2010 from the Jamaica Theological Seminary, with an

honors’ degree in Social Work, the writer in me seemed to reawaken and has

yet to go back to sleep.

I completed my first novel in January of 2013 and had never felt so

accomplished in my life. Since then I have published four books and have no

plans on stopping any time soon.

I write what’s in my heart as it’s hard to separate my heart from anything

I write. As a result, characters that are real to me often come out. I pray

my passion brings you as much joy as it has brought me.





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