Musing…

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Could you fall in love with someone who’s Bisexual? I present to you the magnificent sexy hot and bi Willy Cartier.

I’ve decided I have a new Muse. I find sexy people an inspiration to my writing process. Maybe they help me find my voice…you know, the one deep inside that you’re unsure you really want to share with the world. That voice. The vulnerable, needy, sensual personal part of you that makes you wonder if people would still love you if they knew how your mind works…

I’ve had emotionally shattering introspective days in the last six or seven days. Or maybe it’s best described as emotions buried will eventually demand to be recognized or they will erupt in tears and a health crisis. Either way, I’m admitting it and working through it.

The challenge I have as an author is sometimes I step outside myself and look at my situation or life like a movie or a book! Have you ever done that? It’s an uncanny feeling to see yourself as a character in a book or a play, wondering how the character will act/react. It’s surreal and edgy yet exciting and extremely artistically productive.

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It may be a © image…but I’m borrowing it.

I think if I’d been born an author in my parent’s generation–all that Irish and Welsh mixed up inside of me–I might have been an addict. But most likely, I’d have been addicted to love. Searching for it, falling for it, destroying my life for it, and dying for it. Yeah, the first step to healing yourself is recognizing who you are and owning it.

Love and all its addictive elements inspire me. Should I write more spicy novels like Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money? I think I will look up a few more images of Willy Cartier and allow my Muse to take me away.

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Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

Action and Sex?

2

 

I love 2018 already!

My readers have spoken. The first books to download into Kindles today were my JET series and Lie to Me an exposé on sex for money. 

You want more action and lots of sex? I’m up for the challenge.

Let’s start 2018 with a cover reveal. JET-Reborn will be added to 4 novellas in the JET series. I’m super excited about this story.

Will she finally settle down with Hannah in Paris, France? Being an ex-assassin for the Mossad is not an easy career to walk away from. Jet’s making changes in her life and she starts them in Cape Town, South Africa.  JET-Reborn will have you hopping from Cape Town to Paris, London and Doha, Qatar. The action is non-stop! 

And while you’re waiting, you can catch up by starting with JET-Exposed, the first in series based on Russell Blake’s highly successful and popular Jet! $1.99 download on your Kindle App.

Enjoy the ride!

And thanks for reading. 2017 was my best year yet!

Layla & Omar NEW RELEASE TODAY

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Why couldn’t she be honest with herself? She knew, from the moment she’d left the house, where she was going. Two blocks over she found it. La Noche. The sign was a wolf howling into the moon. She felt like a wolf on the prowl.

She pushed through a group of young men sharing a joint at the front door. Trendy Guadalajara youths hunched around intimate café tables playing dominoes and looking cool.

She heard him before she saw him.

A smiling waiter found an empty table in the corner close to the band. “Cómo estás, señorita? What can I get you to drink?” Two boys at the table beside her, still wearing their shorts from the beach, looked her up and down with half-closed bloodshot eyes.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here without a boyfriend?”

“Why? You want to apply for the job?”

The one with dreadlocks tried a seductive focus in on Layla. But she was laughing, so he gave up.

“No, I got a job already. I work on the beach at Los Muertos doing the parasailing trips. My friend Manuel runs the boat. Have you ever gone parasailing? You know, where you get strapped into a harness and you sail up into the sky while the boat leads from the ocean.”

“No. I haven’t. I want to do it sometime, but I’m too nervous.”

“Well, I will take you up for free! But then, you have to pay me to bring you down!”

“Very funny.” Layla gave them a smile, a kind of sloppy, stupid grin. They weren’t the only ones under the influence. She should really order a coke.

“Hey, we’re thinking of going to the Zoo. Do you want to join us?”

“No, I don’t even know you guys.”

“Come on. You’ve been talking with us for at least five minutes. What’s your problem? If you like us, we will even pay you for sex!”

Layla laughed. Fun. She needed some fun in her life. At first, she thought they were joking. But they weren’t laughing. Did they think she was a hooker?

“What’s the going rate? And I suppose you want me to go with the both of you at the same time?”

“Hmm, what do you think, Manuel? It depends. What do you like to do? They call me Ricki, by the way, nice to meet you.” Ricki put his arm around Layla and gave her a kiss on the cheek. They were really quite charming, considering their proposition and the fact that they were drunk.

“Well, actually, it would have to be at another time. I’m waiting for my novio. He’s a Federales officer and should be here any minute.” The waiter chose that moment to bring over her wine.

Instantly, the arm came off Layla’s shoulder.

“So, I think we should go. Hasta Luego. Let’s go, Manuel. Nice meeting you.”

She glanced at Omar playing his guitar. He had long dark fingers, lovely hands. She had been too busy checking out his body to notice his hands before. His voice was strong and focused; totally lost in his music. He sang from his heart with a depth of passion she hadn’t expected.

He turned slightly, maybe sensing he was being watched. She wanted to touch his silky ebony curls. He looked into her eyes. She flushed, her lust taking over.

Why had she come? This was stupid. She was in need of serious self-talk. Don’t act like a groupie. No, that’s not working. What about his age? He’s beautiful and hot, age never stopped her before. Okay, so none of that’s helping. Here comes the low blow: think of what he does for a living.

He finished his set and placed his guitar against the stand. Layla took a sip of her wine while he made his way over to her table. He was dressed all in black. She pretended to be cool, but a gorgeous dark Mexican man dressed in an Armani black t-shirt and pants? She was fucked. He could tell just looking at her face.

He leaned down and kissed her slowly on the cheek, his hand lingering possessively on her neck. She reached up, twisting his hair around her fingers and moved her head until their lips met. Her nipples hardened instantly.

“Layla. I’ve been waiting for you.” He pulled a chair closer to Layla so their legs touched. She could feel his heat. She didn’t move away. She didn’t want to.

For once, Layla didn’t feel like talking. Sometimes, she just wanted to feel.

The waiter put a tequila shot on the table.

“You’re very quiet, Layla.” Omar downed it quickly. “I have an idea. My place is very near here. We can walk. I will play some of my music for you. Let’s go.”

 

They walked hand and hand down the almost deserted Old Vallarta streets. Just around the corner from the Fajita Republic, they stopped at a steep set of stairs. Omar pointed to the staircase.

“Do I have to carry you, Layla, or can you walk on your own?”

“Very funny. I only had a little pot and little booze. I’m fine. Just walk behind me and watch my back in case I stumble.” Layla started up the steps. Her jeans hugged her butt and she knew it.

“No problemo. I will watch your back anytime, señorita.”

At the top of the stairs, a doorway led into Omar’s apartment. He struggled with his key. Nervous.

Two guitars sat on his bed; sheet music on his pillow. A half-burned candle and a half-smoked joint lay side by side on his night table.

Layla picked up a chunk of pink quartz in the shape of a heart.

“I got that from the interior here in Mexico.”

A funky ceramic lamp covered with a blue, green, and purple cotton pareo cast a nice soft and romantic glow around the room. An oversized poster of Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones covered the wall above his bed. His studio apartment was neat and smelled of incense. Not what she had expected at all.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Omar turned the key in the lock and walked to the fridge in the kitchen area.

There was a chair by the table where more sheet music lay half completed. Other than that, the most comfortable spot looked to be the bed. Layla chose the bed, dropping her shoes as she made her way over to its edge.

“Don’t have a lot to drink, but vino blanco and some beer. Which would you prefer?” He smiled in acknowledgment of her choice of seating.

“Just water. I still need to make my way home.” She laughed self-consciously.

“Don’t worry. I will make sure you get home okay.” He handed her a glass of ice water.

“Sing something for me.” She smiled as she bunched the pillows together and leaned forward into them.

“Sure. Let me play the first song I ever wrote. It’s in Spanish. A love song, actually. I was sixteen when I wrote it.” Omar began to strum his guitar.

Even though it was in Spanish, Layla loved it. When he finished, she applauded and asked for a translation.

“Well, it kind of goes like this. It’s called ‘It’s Time to Let Me Go.’

 

Now that we are over, remember only the good part.

Remember how I loved you.

Forget how I hurt you.

Remember how we longed for each other when we were apart.

Remember how we ached to touch when we came together.

Forget the lies, the deceits.

Remember only the good parts.

Remember how we loved to make love, how we touched each other.

How we slept holding each other in our arms.

Forget the nights I didn’t come home.

Remember only the good parts.

Thank you for everything,

the love I never had before,

the love you gave me

and the love I could not return the way you needed

Remember only the good parts.

I will carry your love with me.

Forever in my heart.

 

“That’s beautiful, Omar.”

Layla stretched out across his bed.

Omar continued playing, soft and romantic melodies. Lost in the music, he closed his eyes and thought about the words. When he opened them, Layla had fallen asleep.

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New Release Introductory pricing: $2.99 Thanks!

 

 

Voyeur

 

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Mateo

HE FOUND HIMSELF standing outside her door, again.

He wasn’t sure why. After all, sex was sex. She was a one-night stand. He just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He showered, got dressed to come downtown. Mateo had no idea how long he had been there, standing on the broken sidewalk, looking at the numbers on the doorway. He thought about walking away. The last thing he wanted in his life was a relationship. Complications, demands, caring about how someone felt, no. He listened to the guys he knew talking about their wives and girlfriends. Too many hassles. He had never had an adult relationship and now that he knew better, he wasn’t going to start!

He smiled, thinking about the wild sex they’d had the night before. She was really amazing. She’d laughed and at one point, he was certain she had cried. He’d pretended not to notice.

His friends would never believe it if they knew he was standing outside a girl’s apartment, hoping to run into her.

He was confused, time to leave. At that moment, her door opened. He heard her before he saw her. That voice, maybe that was it: musical, fun, and sexy all in one.

She was arm in arm with a great looking girl with the longest legs Mateo had ever seen. They hugged each other and the tall girl fell into a waiting cab. Mateo felt like a voyeur catching an intimate moment between two lovers. Maybe she was a lesbian. Naw, bi-sexual maybe. but she was definitely not a lesbian.

In that moment, she looked up and saw him waiting. He worried that she might be annoyed or think he was stalking her. Damn! What was he doing there anyways?

 

 

What’s the most important thing you’re working on right now, and how are you making it happen? Q

 

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I’m working on two projects. The first is a manuscript, working title: SEX for MONEY—Rent-a-boys in Mexico. I wrote this story a few years ago and put it aside. I’m editing now and being brutal on my edits.

A freelance writer moves to Puerto Vallarta to pursue her curiosity about the male sex trade—what type of men sell themselves and why women pay for it. Through a series of interviews and sexual experiences, she finds herself on a dark journey into her own beliefs on sexuality and love.

It’s deeply personal and highly sexual. It’s a different write for me but in the editing, I’ve come across sections that take my breath away.

If I’m ever discouraged about the long road to success in writing books, I go to Amazon and read my reviews. After all, it’s about the pleasure my readers get when they read, right?

The second project is a series of shorter books on Women: sexuality after 50, successful living, creativity and spiritual/soul development. I love these non-fiction subjects that I touched upon in my extremely well-received Memoir/Self-help book LOVE The Beat Goes On. I wanted to delve deeper in the hopes that women know they are not alone in their journey of self-development. We are all in this together.

Yes, I’m busy and at times question myself, my work and the direction life is taking me. We all have self-doubts but the key to success for me is

  1. making a plan—Schedule the writing/editing/cover etc.
  2. doing the work—reading & deleting my rambling babies
  3. writing one page after another even when I’d rather watch Netflix
  4. keeping myself motivated by listening to other authors, their challenges and how they kept on doing the work rejection after rejection
  5. keep my eye on the vision board
  6. and never, ever giving up