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November 11, 2015

This is James and Michaela in Stare Him Down

April 13, 2016

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This is Michaela

STARE HIM DOWN

This is James

JAMES STARE HIM DOWN

This is the beginning of their story

 

The Donavan mountaintop ski lodge in Stowe, Vermont

James Barrington

 

He closed his eyes and allowed his weight to sink into the couch. The worn leather might have started off cool, but in no time it would be warm and cozy. Too bad he wasn’t alone up here. He could go for a blazing fire and an hour or two to enjoy an expensive brandy in complete solitude. Maybe—

Bang.

Wonderful. Now he had company. He didn’t move as he tried to imagine what the newly arrived person was doing. Drawers slid opened and then closed. Cabinet doors, running the full length of the lower part of the bookcase, opened and then slammed shut. All ten of them in quick and decisive OCD fashion. What the hell?

Now he was paying attention and when he eased up to peer over the back of the couch, he scowled. It was the boss’s daughter, Michaela, who’d turned her sights onto methodically searching the large tiger-striped oak desk. Yeah, scratch daughter. She wasn’t just Bran Donavan’s only child, she was his princess. The man thought the sun rose and set on the girl.

Not that it was any of James’ business. How his boss spoiled his kid was none of his concern. In fact, he shouldn’t even care about what she was doing here. She had more right to be in Bran’s library than he did. Even still, he couldn’t help being curious. What was she trying to dump? She had some type of object in her hand, and judging from her single-minded attempt to get rid of it, the shiny item was probably a murder weapon.

Suddenly, she stopped and simply dropped the thing. It didn’t hit the stone floor, but made a soft thud instead. Interesting.

Even more interesting? After a quick scan of the situation, he realized whatever she’d been trying to ditch was now cushioned in the papers in the garbage basket by her feet. He knew this because she bent and then rearranged the trash in three quick moves. He was just about to clear his throat to let her know that he was there, and also to find out what was going on, when a deep voice sounded outside the library in the hall.

“Like hell. It didn’t just disappear. She took it. I know she did.”

It seemed that Mack Decker was on the warpath. James watched Michaela closely to see how she’d react. She had her back to him while he wondered what she planned to do. Didn’t Daddy’s little princess know that Decker wasn’t a man to mess with? Apparently not. She straightened, and instead of panicking over the impending confrontation, she seemed to be preparing for it by pulling up her sleeves.

“There you are.” Decker came in and closed the door with the authority of a guy who knew he had this showdown in the bag. A fact that was yet to be seen. Speaking of seen…

James was grateful for the darkness in this half of the library as it afforded great cover while he waited for the mystery surrounding Michaela’s actions to unfold.

“Hi, Mr. Decker.”

Her innocent greeting surprised him. Enough that he took a moment to study her body language more closely. And what that language currently shouted belied her serene, calm, and cool as a cucumber right out of the fridge, tone. She trembled a little and her hands, which were tightly clasped behind her back, showed the whites of her knuckles right through her taut skin.

Hm. Her seemingly blasé attitude must have surprised Decker too. The guy scowled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Oh no, is my dad looking for me? I’m so sorry. I forgot about the photographer. I hope he’s not too upset.”

“Wait.”

Decker growled, forcing Michaela to halt at the door where she’d been trying to make a quick exit. She spun around. “Yes?”

“Give me your medallion.”

The face she made was so over-the-top outraged that James wanted to laugh.

“Why? My team came in second. I won this fair and square.” She held up the gold coin only to have Decker swipe it from her.

“We’ll see about that. At least this will replace what you took from me.”

Her previous outrage reached phenomenal B-movie potential. “Took what? I didn’t take anything.”

They glared at each other and then?

Without a word or even a change of expression, Michaela just swung around, opened the door, and left. Causing James to wonder once more about what she’d dropped in the trash can. The way she steadily denied the VP’s accusation made James wonder. Did she take something from the guy or not? A few minutes later he finally got the chance to find out. The second Decker left he went on a small scale dumpster dive.

And there it was.

Decker’s first place ski trophy. The whole team got one. Each of them was expected to hoist it high in the annual championship picture. No wonder the guy was pissed. He’d be lunch-bag left out in the shot.

“He cheated.”

James dropped the award and turned. Michaela was standing in the open doorway in a stance that fairly challenged him to question her about all this. But how could he? It wasn’t as if he doubted the possibility. Decker was a competitive son-of-a-bitch who’d been known to skew things in his favor every chance he got. They didn’t call him double-dealing Decker for nothing.

So James simply waited for her to spill the dramatic tale of woe. He knew from experience that teenagers ate up this kind of shit.

Probably why he was left scratching his head several seconds later when Michaela smiled, much like the Mona Lisa, and then left.

Her enigmatic grin haunted him for most of the afternoon, but it wasn’t until Decker took a few verbal shots at her when some of the guys got together later in the evening, that James intervened. After he tackled the VP in private over this, he went to find the little crusader.

“Here.” He handed her the gold medallion. “I believe this is yours?”

That’s all he said, before he mimicked her earlier inscrutable expression, and gave her a salute of approval.

It did occur to him as he walked away, that she didn’t seem at all impressed with his gesture. Which was…

Perplexing.

Interesting.

Downright distracting, if he was being honest.

(END)

These are a series of scenes that take place over the course of years prior to their story starting. I will continue to post the next few scenes, until the full story releases at the end of this month.

They are titled as follows, so keep checking back.

Later that night at the lodge, alone in her king-size bed and snuggled under the warmth of a soft, feathery down duvet.  (Michaela)

Donavan Industry’s main office a year and a half later  (James)

and if we have time…

The Donavan ski lodge a year later. The annual company competition

With each of these scenes, I’ll be adding to our build-a-giveaway too.

For those of you who aren’t familiar here’s how it goes. If you are a subscriber you are already entered for a chance to win, but then, if you leave a comment you increase your chances as I add the names from comments to the hat before I do the final drawing. So let’s say we have five build-a-giveaway posts and you’re a subscriber and you leave a comment on all five posts, your name will be in the hat six times. That’s better odds, right?

So far we have all this stuff (if you don’t want to click we have a 25.00 Amazon gift card, chocolates, a Stare Him Down mug and some chocolates) and I’m adding this mystery box today:

photo 2 (61)

photo 1 (65)

You’ll find out when we do the drawing what’s in it. 😀

Okay, and for those of you who follow my blog because of my Honey stories? I have dubbed this one:

The Night The Lights Went Out on Fable Land

So Honey and I were lying in bed the other night and he was trying to go to sleep. I say he, because I was lying awake trying to work out this idea I had about reinventing a fairytale. I won’t bore you with all that. It’s still marinating in the old noggin.

What I want to share is the conversation Honey and I had in the wee hours, lying in our bed in compete darkness. Check it out.

“I think it will work, don’t you?” That’s me talking and you have to imagine that I’ve just unloaded a whole multi-leveled plot of epic proportions on him. Non-stop talking for a good five minutes at least.

His answer? Grunt

Seriously? Hell no, you know that’s not going to work, so I start poking him. “Did you even listen?”

Grunt

I’m determined to get him to talk, actually wake him up. I poke him some more. “You fell asleep, didn’t you? What was the last thing you remember me saying and I’ll pick up there and then you can tell me what you think.”

Groan

“Come on. I’m not going to let you sleep until we do this.”

He groans again and rolls over onto his side, facing me. “Do what?”

“Finish working through this idea.”

“The fairytale one?”

I stop poking him. “Exactly.”

“I thought all your heroines are noble and virtuous?”

There’s me thinking, sure we’ll go with that. “They are.”

“Then how is this going to work?”

I shifted back and frowned. “I’m not following.”

“Snow white lived with seven male dwarfs, the comatose chick in the glass case let some stranger slobber all over her to wake her up – not very discerning if you asked me, Rapunzel invited a schmuck into her treetop lair without blinking an eye, and Red Riding Hood was a medieval porno star.”

Me, Blink, blink

“Now that I think about it,” he continued. “We never should have let our kids read that shit.”

*Looks right at you* How the hell did we get here?

There were so many, MANY, things I could have said regarding his astute findings, but I went with asking him about the latter, because *shrug* why not? *Looks back at him*

“How could you possible say Red Riding Hood was a porno queen?”

“Subliminal literature.”

*side-eyes you* What-a-what?

I leaned up on an elbow and scowled at him. “I don’t think I’m following.”

“The wolf ate her in the end…think about it.”

Yeah, I was thinking about it alright. “I wonder why you didn’t bring up the three little pigs. Could it be because you are one?”

Honey didn’t think that was funny, but I did. We never finished discussing my fairytale idea either. Because we moved onto *cough, cough* other things. And now that I’ve shared this little Honeyism with you guys I don’t think I’ll broach the subject about fairytales with him again. Clearly the man has issues surrounding childhood classics.

Red Riding Hood was a medieval porno star?

Damn, I’ll never read that story without seeing Jenna Jamison in the cape.

*Shakes fist at Honey* Because I’ll never read any of my favorites the same way ever again.

That will teach me to poke the beast.

*thinks for a second and then wipes brow*

Thank God he didn’t massacre that classic. I would have killed him. That one’s my fav!

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Don’t forget to leave a comment!

Riley

 

 

 

 


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You know you’re too old to try false eyelashes when…and we’ll be adding to our giveaway!!!

March 25, 2016

domestic dispute

You know you’re too old to try false eyelashes when…

When, you ask?

Well, when you purchase the bodacious lid enhancers to freak your husband out with your new fountain-of-youth bat-wing lashes, only to discover you didn’t buy the glue you needed to put them on but had inadvertently picked up the adhesive remover you needed to take them off instead.

*Looks right at you with me own eyelashes, not batting*

Total bummer.

That’s when I realized the only problem with age is you need your reading glasses to distinguish the labeling on the packaging you’re intending to buy. How can one dip their toe into the spring-of-recaptured adolescence if you’re practically legally blind? *Le sigh*

So what started this quest for the bodacious batters in the first place? Simple. I saw a commercial where this model had these cool looking lashes and I thought since I bought the pink hair *Leans in to whisper to you behind a cupped hand* that’s another story I’ll tell you about later this month – I could use them. Man, I was so looking forward to having my spotlight moment. I had it all planned. Honey was supposed to come home and do what he always does.

Wait, let me script how I saw this going down in my head for you.

Honey arriving home. “Babe, I’m home.”

And there’s me. I’m dressed in my snazzy, and sure-to-catch-his-attention, outfit, anxiously waiting behind our new bedroom doors to make a grand entrance. Honey always calls twice if I don’t answer him the first time.

“Babe? You home?”

See? 😉

“Yes, I’m right here,” I say as I regally part the two doors and walk out of our room looking like a pink-haired Marilyn Monroe <- Hey it’s my fantasy so I shall just carry on with the outrageous lie while I imagine those bodacious lashes batting at him with the perfect come-hither look.

Which will, of course, force Honey to his knees so he can worship me like the sex goddess I am.

Damn straight.

*Looks away and then looks right back at you* You see? It would have been so perfect if only I’d bought the glue, and stuck to the workout schedule I promised I do every day from the time I was twenty-two on. If so, I may have pulled off some semblance of worship-worthy smexxy.*snap*

*Snap*

Wait I still have the hair, right?

But then, to tell you the truth, the pink hair was bought for something else entirely. Funny story about that. When I showed my daughter the hair she started to sing that Corey Hart song. You know the one that goes like this?

“I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can…”

There I am staring at her, and then at the hair in my hand, returning to scowl at her when I say, “What the heck are you singing that for?”

She didn’t even blink, but she did give me a cheeky smile. “That hair is so bright anyone that sits with you will have to wear their shades.”

*Pulls down the readers I should have been wearing when I went to the beauty supply place to buy the lashes and glue, and eyes you over them* Fortunately, I didn’t want to sit with Honey if you know what I mean, but I couldn’t tell her that. She still thinks her Dad and I experienced the Immaculate Conception twice, with the arrival of her brother and then her three years later. 😉

Oh and here’s another funny story. Not about the hair, about Honey. Well…eventually about the hair, but I digress. I walked into the family room the other day and stopped. Why? Honey’s watching a soap opera. Interesting, right? But what was even more fascinating was the fact that it was in Spanish.

*Side-eyes you* Honey can’t speak a lick of it. So yeah, I had to ask. Here’s the conversation:

“Whatcha doing?”

“Watching a soap.”

He says this like it’s something he does every day. Which, you know, he never has. At least for as long as I’ve known him and that’s like more than a couple of decades. *shakes head*

I point out the obvious. “It’s in Spanish.”

He sagely nods. “Yeah, I figured it was about time I learned how to speak the language of love.”

*Turns my head this time to look at you while one of my brows lifts in a dubious manner.* He intends to learn a new language – of love no less – by watching a soap opera? Color me impressed.

I leaned over the top of the couch and bent to put my arms around his neck for a loose hug. “Okay, tell me what’s going on in the show.”

I fully expected him to say something like, “This chick started screaming at the guy with the long hair…” Or something equally as non-committal and what do I get instead? A whole dissertation about this cast of characters. Of what’s happened to them, how they’re feeling – yeah, I about died when he began running down the options of maybe this particular woman was crying because it wasn’t the guy she loves baby, or it’s because it was his baby and she may have to marry a different guy. There I am listening to him while he’s pointing out each character and sharing their story and it came to me. Honey was watching this Spanish soap opera like I read a new book with my author cap on. I tend to pay close attention to the smallest details trying to guess where the writer is going to go next with the story.

With Honey and this show? He had to pay closer than normal attention to the scenes because he wasn’t being spoon-fed the details of what was going on in English. Wow. He might have been onto something here.

A second later I realize maybe I was too! Why? This Latin God of luscious perfection arrives on the screen. I mean the guy is perfect for me. Not rob-the-cradle-ish-too-close-to-my-son’s-age, but you know, a little older, in mucho perfection-o shape, and he even had defined laugh lines around his eyes. It’s very rare that I find a perfect combination with all my likes so, I wiped the drool from lips, and said, “Wow, what’s that guy’s story?”

Bah! Honey tilts his head to the side to look at me. We stare at each other for a milli-second and then he deadpans. “He gave the pregnant woman herpes and now they’re going to have cut off his *ick.”

Har, har, har! Honey cracks me up.I straightened and then shrugged. “Who cares about that? The guy’s got great hands, great eyes, and what a mouth. I’d let him pleasure me.”

I straightened and then shrugged. “Who cares about that? The guy’s got great hands, great eyes, and what a mouth. I’d let him pleasure me.”

The minute I saw the remote in the air heading to the one of the cushions on the couch I knew I better start running. And I did. I got as far as the hall, almost to the living room – when Honey caught me from behind and started tickling me. He may have been trying to get me to take back what I said, or maybe he was insisting I cry uncle, who knows and it really doesn’t matter. Why? Because now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, weren’t the bodacious bat-wing lashes supposed to deliver the fountain of youth to me? Meh, I don’t need that kind of small application when I have a fountain of youth force like Honey to reckon with every day. Prime example.  This is what happened last night. All I did was tell him it was time to hit the hay.

I said, “Come you, it’s late. It’s time for bed.”

And do you know what he said to me? “Make me.”

Heh. Being the grown up I am, I simply gave him a withering look and walked off. But when I reached the hall I completely behaved like an adolescent when I called, “Okay, suit yourself. Stay up all night if you like, but you’ll miss your wife wearing nothing but hot pink hair and a smile.”

*Stares right at you* I can honestly say I have never seen the TV and lights turn off so fast before. Sheesh!

Men!

Oh, before I sign off I want to add something to our build-a-giveaway. I love this bracelet. It has a spring opening and it’s hard to tell from the pictures, but it’s shiny silver with very pretty turquoise enamel in it. It’s a fun piece for spring. You all remember what else is up from grabs so far? Right?

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And these items: Chocolates, a mug…

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And a 25.00 Amazon gift card

You guys know the drill. Leave a comment and your name gets added extra times to the hat. If you’re one of my subscribers you’re already added, but if you leave a comment on our giveaway posts – you double or triple your chances. We’ll be doing the giveaway when Stare Him Down releases in April. I can’t wait for you guys to meet James and Michaela.

I love them so hard!

SHD cover thin size

As always, thanks for stopping by.

Riley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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SPRING FLING WITH NIGHT OWL REVIEWS!!!! 100.00 GIFT CARD UP FOR GRABS!!!

March 9, 2016

Night Owl Reviews Spring Fling

Hi Guys!
Anyone up for finding new authors and to winning some prizes? I’m one of the sponsors of the Night Owl Reviews Spring Fling Scavenger Hunt. (March 10 – 31)
During this event I’m going to help you find some great new books and authors to read. Make sure to check my featured titles out along the way.
I am featuring my Make Me series:
teaser for make me series
The grand prize is a $100 Amazon Gift Card!
ENTER NOW by clicking here or on the image below. :)
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Thanks for stopping by!
Good Luck!!!
Riley
Here are a few reviews from this series!
5silver-stars

Provoked

Provoked is fantastic story that had me gripped from start to finish. The romantic storyline was hot, funny and emotional. Add to this an intriguing mystery/suspense plot and you have a must read book. This is the second book I’ve read by this author and I absolutely loved both of them, so I’ll definitely be looking out for more of her books.

 

Charlie gets herself into a spot of trouble which leads to her having to swap lives with her twin sister Cat for a few days. Then she ends up in even more trouble when Neil Cannon, a well respected Dom in the BDSM community, believes she’s the twin who’s been teasing his employees. Neil is determined to take the bratty sub to task for her behaviour, but she’s not what he expected. As the chemistry between Charlie and Neil gets scorching hot, they find themselves drawn into a dangerous mystery involving her parents’ pasts.

 

This was an exciting read, I couldn’t put it down. The plot is unusual and intriguing, they was so much going on here. The humour in this book was fabulous, I was laughing out loud at times. At other times I had tears running down my face, as I really cared about these characters and I felt involved in their lives. Provoked is a brilliant book that definitely receives five stars.

5silver-stars

PUSHED

Another great BDSM romance from Riley Murphy with a wonderful feisty heroine ,Cat and passionate hero , a Dom with a heart, Jude and Riley’s wonderful trademark humour and oneliners – loved ”haggisectomy” and the banter and insults[mostly Cat’s] between the two of them.

I liked the mystery element which started in ”Provoked” and will continue in”Persuaded”.Great secondary characters too and I also liked seeing Cat and Charlie ”interacting” i.e drinking together again. I adored the way that Jude loved Cat so much that he worked hard to change himself from the ”vanilla pudding pop” she thought he was and was reluctantly attracted to into the Dom she needed and how she was the only thing he held onto, to get him through his terrible time at ”Sanctuary”. A very romantic story but also incredibly filthy! Jude has to be one of the dirtiest talking heroes I have read in a long time. How come that sort of talk can be rude, crass and offensive but , spoken by a gorgeous , sexy guy who loves his heroine with a passionate, single minded intensity. it becomes incredibly hot , loving and romantic? Riley really knows how to walk the line between the two. One reviewer mentions feeling ”uneasy” over some of Jude and Cat’s sex scenes and there are ”forced” elements in some of them that may be uncomfortable for some. However,they are not abusive: there is never any doubt that Cat didn’t want it or enjoy it or that Jude would have stopped if she asked him to or that he would ever have really hurt her in any way. They are just very sensual, uninhibited ,exciting scenes and Riley’s skills as a writer shows again in the way that she knows how to write these sorts of scenes without going too far or crossing the line.

Can’t decide whether I like ”Provoked” or ”Pushed” best!

5silver-stars

Persuaded

The sexy and witty banter between GREYSON and his heroine is some of he best I’ve ever read! I loved this story. It gave me all the feels– hot, tender, funny and endearing. Just a great, great story! It’s definitely a reread for me! I highly recommend this author and can barely wait for her next offering!


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Stare Him Down Teaser #1 and Exhibit A (A Honey Story)

March 3, 2016

 

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I am so happy with this story. I can’t wait to release it!!!

Okay. Now for Exhibit A

I thought I’d put this out there because I’m sure I’m not the only one who has “from wife’s mouth to husband’s ear” disease.

What’s that you say? Walk with me for a moment in Honey’s world and I’ll explain. You see, it goes like this. I talk and Honey does whatever the hell he feels like doing. He could be silently singing the “Sha na na” song in his head. He could be quietly counting sheep. Heck, for all I know he could be imagining his favorite female sex symbol stroking his head while she laments what a bum-rap he got the day he married me.

*Looks right at you* Knowing Honey he’s doing all three. 😉

Anyways, here’s the deal. I sent him to the store, people, and asked him to pick up two items. Have I ever mentioned how sensitive I am to scents? No? Well, I probably should tell you since I am, and Honey knows this about me. So when I asked him to get laundry detergent, I told him what brand and then I told him what the scents were.

*Points in your direction* In fact, I told him twice just to be sure.

*Insert a much longer than a trip to the store for two items time period should have taken here* and then Honey returns. Not with my measly items, but with bags and bags of stuff. I call this his magic bean moment as evinced in this earlier story about Honey.  LOL!

So, I decided to head into the kitchen to help him unload, when I say, “You didn’t forget the laundry soap and the air fresheners did you?”

“No. I hope you like the scents I picked.”

*Side-eyes you* You see where this is going, right? He forgot what I asked him. *Deep breath* I decided to cut him a little slack here. “No worries. As long it’s not the Hawaiian Luau for the clothes or the lavender for the air, I can deal.”

This is where exhibit A comes in…

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He tried to sell this as being totally different because of the Hawai’i spelling. Yeah, no. There wasn’t anything he could do about the adjectives of exoctic, tropical and oasis.

*Shakes head*

Annnnd check out exhibit B!

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Yup, it’s lavender!

Great, right?

Yeah, no, Riley wasn’t amused. I refuse to smell like a tropical fruit punch when I get dressed in the morning and the lavender? My grandmother always carried smelling salts with that scent. Every time I looked at her and didn’t smile, she was pulling them out and forcing me to take a whiff.

*Cradles head in hands here*

Wow. One trip to the store carried out by Honey and I wind up being not only smelly but traumatized as well. Perfect.

Alrighty!  It’s time to add to our giveaway. Yay!

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This is what we already have up for grabs. A Stare Him Down mug with a 25.00 Amazon gift card.

And…..

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Today we’re going to add this. It’s some Godiva chocolates!!!

So, anyone else have a significant other with selective deafness? It can’t be just me.

 


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Stare Him Down, The Start Of Our Epic Giveaway & A Honey Story!

February 23, 2016

 

SHD cover thin size

We will start this one off with a bang! Here’s the new cover. Do you like?

Here’s the blurb:

When he agreed to walk away from the lifestyle for her, he never expected she’d subversively push him back into it.

Until she did.

After tragedy stole the only man James Barrington looked up to, his perfect and orderly life hit a brick wall. One minute he was the right-hand man to the owner of the company, and in the next he was the boss fighting to stop a hostile takeover the only way he knew how. He needed to marry his late mentor’s over-protected daughter, Michaela Donovan, and stay married to her until the threat to the company was averted.

While they were together, James had no intention of disrespecting his in-name-only wife by remaining entrenched in the lifestyle. For the time being, he was prepared to walk away from his Dom-like pursuits. He had to. Michaela was the opposite of everything he embodied. She was soft, where he was hard. Gentle, when he favored rough. She was refined and elegant. The epitome of a virtuous woman, and he wasn’t going to do anything to change that. Circumstances may have forced them to enter into a marriage of convenience in order to keep her father’s legacy alive, but the moment that legacy was secured they’d both be free to go their separate ways.

 

Michaela knew this may be her only opportunity to finally get the one man she has always fantasized about. She’s spent years studying him. Idolizing him. Wanting him in a way she wanted no other. And now? Well, her father always told her to seize whatever good came out of the bad, and Michaela was ready to do just that. Heartbroken over what happened, and faced with the task of saving the company, she sees James’ sensible offer as the perfect solution and a way to achieve two things she desired most at one time. James may consider this a marriage of convenience, but she’s determined to covertly change his mind on the matter.

One submissive tease at a time.

Maybe if James had been a different man he wouldn’t have noticed her subtle actions. Maybe if he was any other guy he could have overlooked them. Truth be told, he might have had a fighting chance if each “accidental” midnight encounter didn’t fire his blood and call to the Dom in him to come out and master this beautiful woman.

He couldn’t do that. This was Michaela Donavan. The innocent vanilla who had no idea what her sultry actions were doing to a seasoned Dom like him. This was no time to let desire get in the way. He had to maintain control and stay focused in order to save the company. Surely once this happened he’d able to put aside the wickedly dirty thoughts her unintentional actions inspired in him before it was too late and he acted on them.

She wasn’t going to give up. But with the prospect of their arrangement coming to an end, she knew what she had to do. Somewhere along the line, he must have lost his Dom mojo and she needed to help him find it again. The plan was simple. All she needed to do was re-Dom him.

How hard could it be?

(end)

 

GIVEAWAY

For the start of our build-a-giveaway, we have this bodacious mug with an Amazon 25.00 gift card tucked inside it.

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You guys know the drill, right? If you’re a subscriber you are entered into this drawing already. Are you a subscriber? No? Okay, you’ll miss that one chance to win, but as a bonus – each time you leave a comment on the blog posts I publish between now and the end of the giveaway your name gets added to the drawing list. More chances to win. *Sigh* I love more chances! We will be adding an item to our giveaway each week or so until James’ and Michaela’s story STARE HIM DOWN is released. I can’t wait for you guys to read this story! This couple has quite a relationship journey, I can tell you that.

Okay, now for the Honey story. I hope you’re sitting down. If not, I’d advise that you do so because this is a doozy.

I would title this one:

The Many Mysteries Of Honey…And I’m Not Talking About The Nectar!

It would seem Honey has reached a point in his life where he is examining things. Namely his health. Or my health, or the health of the dog. How do I know this? Well, for starters, he told me last week that he might be suffering from mesothelioma*Side-eyes you and sagely nods* Of course he is. Here’s the conversation.

“Mesothelioma, eh? And you know this because…?”

“It’s a hunch.”

“Why? Because you have an ache in your back?”

“Yes.”

*Looks right at you, and whispers* The guy is freaking serious. *Turns back to him*

“Um, don’t you think that ache might have something to do with you scraping the texture off the ceiling?”

“You think there was asbestos in it?”

Oh, for the love of… “No. I think your arms where stretched up over your head all day and maybe your muscles didn’t like it. That’s what I’m thinking. Mesothelioma.”

Then later on that night when we’re lying in bed he sighs so I know something’s up. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I’ve had a problem with my hand all day.”

I’m staring at the ceiling and frown. “The bad one?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you bang it?”

“No. At least no worse than I usually do.”

“Did you pinch it? Or get it stuck between something?”

“No. I think I have diabetic neuropathy.”

What the every living hell? The man is in great shape. Has better blood pressure than I do and not a whiff of pending, or even borderline diabetes in sight. Therefore, there is only one explanation. I turn to study him through the darkness. “Have you been watching medical documentaries lately?”

“Nope.”

Yeah, that didn’t ring true. “You haven’t been watching any medical shows or listening to medical infomercials on the radio?” <-I’ll get to that little gem in a minute.

“Oh, I guess so. It’s called Medical Mysteries. It’s pretty good.”

“No it’s not. It’s giving you bad ideas. Do you even know what diabetic neuropathy is?”

To which I will insert me hearing, Blah, blah, blah until he gets to the pertinent part and I listen. “Where your nerves get all screwed up and they twitch and tingle and shit.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. “Yes, well, I’m positive you have to actually have diabetes before it causes you to suffer from diabetic neuropathy. You know what I’m saying? Just tell me you have neuropathy. That I might believe.”

“Okay.” He growled and turned toward me. “I have neuropathy.”

“No you don’t.”

He gave me a big squeeze hug, and said, “I think I do.”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure,” he whispered in my ear. *Shifts to lift a brow in your direction* Wow, neuropathy is the last thing on his mind at this point – if you catch my drift.

I deadpanned. “Because it causes erectile dysfunction and you seem to be functioning well. Or am I mistaken and that’s a gun in your pocket?”

He grinned and I saw that very well in the darkness. “I’m not wearing pants.”

Didn’t I know it! Men! *Shakes head*

After this conversation Honey settled down from trying to self-diagnose his typical aches and pains into gargantuan  medical anomalies. Why you may ask? Simple, because he started diagnosing mine. Check this out.

A few days ago I get up and limp a little, because, hello? I’ve been sitting for hours and, he says, “Babe? You okay? You didn’t pull your Achilles’ tendon did you?”

*Rolls eyes*

Then I made the mistake of massaging my hip one afternoon. I’d been doing these new exercises – probably all wrong – and I was stiff. What does he say when he sees me?

“Is your hip giving you trouble? Maybe you need a replacement.”

*Tilts head at you while I fume thinking, something could be replaced if he didn’t zip that getting old talk right quick*

But the best one? I was sitting beside him with my legs crossed – crisscross apple sauce style, and he reached over and gripped my thigh, putting so much pressure into his grip that I nearly jumped out of my skin. Why? Well, aside from it being uncomfortable, it hurt because I’ve also been doing squats and my thighs were sore. So, sure, okay, I may – may– have overacted a little when I got up and paced around to walk off the Charlie-horse he’d given me. I told him so too. I said my muscles were cramping in pain right now…And what does he say?

“Maybe you have diabetic neuropathy.”

*Hangs head* And mutters, “Thank you, Medical Mystery show. Yay. Now I have a budding hypochondriac by proxy on my hands.”

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon, when I go out to get the mail and find a package in the box. I love packages, don’t you? Anyway, I carry it into the house, dump the regular mail on the counter and have a look at who the lucky bugger is who is going to open it. Hey, there are only so many choices, right? Wrong. Turns out there was one more than I figured on. Why? Well, the package was for the dog.

The. Dog.

Hm…

I open it up and stare at the invoice. Yesiree, it was for our little poochie. Imagine that? I hadn’t ordered anything and yet? My name was on the invoice. Double Hm… that turns into a groan when I read the caption on the bottom of the page that says, As seen on TV and widely acclaimed on radio.

Am I the only one here who’s beginning to see a huge problem in the making? Honey has discovered infomercials to feed his documentary-medical-mystery program addiction. If I’m right he’s testing it out on the dog before he rolls out the real plan for us.

So what did I do? I left him a note on the dog vitamin powder that we could return for a full refund within 30 days if we weren’t completely delighted with it.

Dear Honey,

If you are going to be purchasing products from infomercials please use your own name when buying your gold. Speaking of gold. If I’m up next, and you’re thinking about ordering me a walker to preempt my hip replacement, the darn thing better be gold-leaf with real diamonds embedded in the grips. That’s all I’m saying…otherwise, I might suffer a bout of early dementia and use that walker to step right through you truck windshield. 😉

By the way, how’s the mesothelioma doing?

R

Turns out, it wasn’t doing so good because later on I heard him choking…probably on laughter after he read my note.

OMG! Now as I type this, I’m thinking I may have made a mistake. Honey’s been known to give me what I want. *Stares right at you in horror* If he comes home with a stupid gold walker I’m going to brain him with it, I swear.

Anyways, can’t wait for you to meet James and Michaela. She likes to be called Mike, but James calls her Mickey – which reminds her of the mouse. She doesn’t like that at all. *Dreamy sigh* So it makes for good times when writing the two of them. >:D

As always, thanks for stopping by. And don’t forget to leave a comment.

Riley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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