I write sweet and steamy rom-coms with tear-jerker happy-ever-afters.
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where i play the role of romance author, reader, and geek

Thank you and last Greek 5 excerpt for the blog!

6/27/2014

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As a thank you to all those who downloaded OFF GUARD (it took a long time for Amazon to make it free and for that I'm sorry but there wasn't anything I could do about it) and had it #1 for Kindle short romance reads under 30 minutes, I'm posting this one last excerpt of Greek 5. You already had the last excerpt for the newsletter and this is the last one for the blog. 

Oh, and also a note about Off Guard - I made this available for free on all retailers so that when I update it with new chapters, you only have to update the version of the book on your reader. You wouldn't need to visit my website and download a new file.

Now, on to Greek 5...

You've all been asking WHEN it's going to be out. I'd really like to give you a specific date but honestly, I DO NOT WANT TO JINX IT especially now that it's in its final stages of publishing. 

All I can tell you for now is to keep an eye on your inbox or my Facebook page or Twitter. I'll make the announcement REALLY SOON. And by announcement I mean that the book is finally live.

Again, I'm sorry for making you wait. I honestly HATED the original version of this book. I just plain hated it and I have a feeling you would have hated it, too.

As for this final version, I cannot of course guarantee that you'd love it. All I can say is that I wrote this from the heart and that every word was meant to do justice to Damen and Mairi's story. 

Excerpt: The Art of Wedding a Greek Billionaire

She said: To wed a Greek billionaire, one must be prepared to have all expectations surpassed.

He said: You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you? Our wedding was like a hole-in-the-wall affair and I still think we should marry again. You deserve a proper---

She said: I mean it. My every dream came true when I saw you waiting for me.

Note to editor: We’ll get back to drafting this chapter later. My beloved wife has just given me a raging hard-on that cannot be ignored a moment longer.


A tall dark-haired man stood with his back to the windows, sunlight cascading from behind to lay golden stripes on the royal blue carpet. He had the strong classic features of a Greek god, but marring its perfection were the faintest shadows of bruises that were still in the process of healing. He was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, with a snowy white shirt underneath.

The room he was in had marble floors, expensive stenciled wallpaper, and high vaulted ceilings. At two hundred square meters, the room was the largest in the building and cost more than a thousand dollars at night, something not any ordinary person could afford.

Even so, there was no denying the truth.

This was a hospital room, and it was not fit to be the wedding venue for a man who was once a billionaire.

When the door opened, Damen Leventis drew his breath sharply at the sight that greeted him. Standing in the doorway was the girl he would risk everything for. 

Mairi Tanner.

The girl who had captured his heart…and whose heart his own cruelty and cynicism had caused to break…over and over.

For a moment, all they did were stare at each other.

Memories, short but vivid, passed through his mind, and Damen’s fists clenched at his sides.

So many memories…

Mairi, the first time he had seen her in Diana’s school, her beautiful smiling face a picture of innocence and optimism…

Mairi, the first time he had kissed her, and with a dazed look in her eyes, all she could say was ‘hi’…

Mairi, the first time he had told her the truth about his engagement to Alina Kokinos, and she could only look at him helplessly as if wanting to stop loving him but unable to…

Damen’s chest heaved.

So many damn memories, and most of them were darkened by the pain he had caused Mairi.

If he was an honorable man, he would cancel the wedding and let her go. She deserved someone better, someone who would never cause her to cry a single teardrop.

But he was not an honorable man when it came to Mairi.

He was a man whose heart no longer belonged to himself, a man whose life would be forfeit if she ever left his side.

He would never let her go. It didn’t matter if she no longer loved him. It didn’t matter if she only chose to stay with him out of pity.

Damen would take Mairi any way he could.

****

Mairi smoothed one trembling hand over the lacy overskirt of her dress, a concoction of white silk that her best friend Velvet Lambert-Sallis had especially ordered for her. Velvet was on her honeymoon now, and it was only at Mairi’s insistence that neither Velvet nor Mandy had come to her wedding. Everything about her life now was a mess, and she didn’t want her friends to suffer from any kind of public backlash because of her.

As the stylist continued to weave her hair into artful curls, Mairi let her gaze drift around the spacious walk-in closet of Damen’s hospital room, now serving as her temporary bridal boudoir. 

Next to the door was a lovely waist-high rosewood cabinet, and gracing its top was a vase of exotic roses sent by Drake Morrison. The flowers had come with a handwritten note, and remembering the message made Mairi hastily blink back tears.

In your heart, you never betrayed him.

And he knows that. 

“I’ll be placing the wreath now,” the stylist announced. 

Mairi nodded, her eyes going to her reflection. The wreath was a gift from her aunts, a work of art made from gold-plated vines and pearls roped in the shape of flowers. They had spoken on the phone last night, and when the memory of their conversation fluttered inside her mind, Mairi had to take deep breaths to keep herself from breaking down.

‘We so badly want to be there, Mairi, but right now we can help you more if we stay here,’ Vilma had said.

‘This time, dear girl, we’ll be fighting for you. And all we ask is that you be strong for us. Can you do that for us, Mairi?’ Norah had asked.

The stylist stepped back to admire his handiwork. “There, we’re done…”

Mairi slid her feet into the shoes that looked very much like glass slippers, a gift from Diana Leventis and her classmates. The girls had used their own allowance to buy Mairi their gift, and they had sent it with a selfie photo of the entire class.

We love you, Ms. Yay!

Thank you for teaching us to dream.

Slowly, she stood up, and the stylist took her hand to draw Mairi towards the full-length mirror at the side of the room.

A young woman looked back at her, dressed in a white silk dress that bared her shoulders and emphasized the slimness of her waist before falling to a loose ballerina skirt that fell a few inches past her knees.

So many people had suffered because of her foolish heart and her decision to love blindly.

This time, it would be different.

This time, she would be strong for everyone.

It might be a mistake to love Damen after everything, but it was a mistake that she knew she would make over and over again.

She loved Damen, and she would always love him but this time, she would make sure her love would hurt no one – not her aunts, not her friends, not even Damen – but herself.

“Are you ready?” 

It was not the stylist who spoke. This time, the low, dark voice came from Ioniko Vlahos, one of the few persons who had remained at her side from the very start. Dressed in a dove gray suit, the Greek billionaire had insisted on the honor of giving her away when he realized that neither Mairi nor Damen would be dissuaded from their decision to marry before leaving the hospital.

She nodded.

Ioniko moved to her side and gently took her arm. Looking down at Mairi, he realized that a part of him had always known this beautiful young woman would never belong to him. From the very start, Mairi only had eyes for one Greek billionaire.

Still, he had to ask, “You are sure of this?”

A brief smile touched her lips as she answered honestly, “It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.”

Ioniko’s lips curved.

That explained it all, really.

Since Damen Leventis was no longer a Greek billionaire, that really explained it all.

****

Damen’s chest tightened with each step Mairi took towards him. 

Beside him, Damen’s best man said under his breath, “You must allow yourself to breathe, my friend.” He was Stavros Manolis, another Greek billionaire whose looks and power had turned him into a celebrity figure. Notorious for being reclusive and aloof, Stavros had shocked the world when it was revealed that he, too, had been vying for the hand of Mairi Tanner, now labelled as a modern-day Mata Hari.

Color stained Damen’s high cheekbones at the realization he had not indeed breathed since the first step Mairi took inside his room. Having overheard Stavros’ aside, the nurses who had been invited to witness the wedding giggled to themselves.

But soon the sounds died and all was left was the most profound silence as Mairi came to stand in front of Damen. 

Their gazes met.

And no words had to be spoken.

In the background, the priest started to speak. “Dearly beloved, you have come to this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love…” 

Slowly, Damen reached for Mairi’s hand.

Her fingers curled around his and tightened, and the quiet show of support and loyalty humbled Damen. 

Soon, the time came for Mairi to profess her eternal love to Damen. 

“Do you take Damen to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honor him all the days of your life?”

Fear erupted from nowhere, suffocating her, and for a moment she was lost in the most awful memories.

Esther Leventis, calling her a slut because she had slept with him even if he was promised to another woman…

Cleon Frangos, licking his lips as he unzipped his pants while telling her that they could come into an understanding…

Alina Kokinos, telling Mairi that she had been sleeping with Damen since he had thrown her out…

Mairi squeezed her eyes shut. 

No.

She was going to put everything behind her now.

When she opened her eyes, Damen was gazing at her, his eyes fierce, his jaw clenched hard. 

Everything inside Damen demanded that he beg for Mairi to stay with him, to marry him, and to love him. But he held the words back even if doing so almost killed him. He was not as selfish as he had thought, after all.

If she married him, the future ahead of them was anything but rosy. 

He was no longer a Greek billionaire.

He was only a man who made too many mistakes, and all he could offer her was his love. 

He would not keep her with him if she chose to be smart and run away from this wedding.

And so he waited.

Time passed ever so slowly. Around them were reminders of forces that were for and against them. The documents of Esther’s lawsuit against him on the bedside table, the gift from his sister and her aunts, the men who cared for Mairi enough to give her away to Damen if she so chose…

At that moment, Damen realized none of it mattered.

Whether people stood by them or not didn’t matter.

All he wanted was Mairi to be his wife, and if she said yes, then he would fight to the death to keep her safe, cherished, and loved.

“I do.”

His head jerked up, Damen unable to believe that he had really heard Mairi whisper the words.

Unshed tears shone in her eyes as she whispered again, more fiercely, “I do.”

The rest of what the priest had to say was lost in the applause that followed.

Damen pulled Mairi into his arms, and cupping her face, he took her mouth in a kiss that, for as long as it lasted, obliterated every memory of pain.

As their lips met in that one kiss sealing their union, it was as if the past had never happened and Damen Leventis and Mairi Tanner were just two people who had always been in love with each other.

But no kiss lasted forever.

When Damen and Mairi parted, everything came back.

Every heartache.

Every teardrop.

And the knowledge that this was a wedding of two broken beating hearts.
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Excerpt: That One Time - A Holiday Romance (December Release)

12/17/2013

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This is my first ever holiday romance - and when I say holiday, I'm not talking about just Christmas - I'm talking about a vacation / getaway / whirlwind romance set in an exotic locale like...Hong Kong! :)

So first, the blurb ---

23-year-old Ayah Chandler believes in love at first sight, and she should – since it only took that one time for her to fall head over heels for a man who looks like an angel but seduces like the devil.

Billionaire Nic de Koningh grew up trusting no one but himself, but all it took was that one time with the free-spirited Instagram-loving Ayah to question everything he believes and doesn’t believe in.

As they meet once more in the exotic urban paradise of Hong Kong, Nic and Ayah finally have a chance to discover the answer to the burning question in their hearts.

Can love spring from a moment of connection or is it an illusion that will only scar them for eternity?


I can promise you that you'll never see the twists coming. My editor didn't. :P If you received my latest newsletter, then you've already your first glimpse of Nic and Ayah. Here's another---

Post by Marian Tee.
Hope you like it! :)
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The Hungry Ghosts Festival

10/28/2013

2 Comments

 
Alas, I am very sad to say that I have no horror novel coming out to celebrate Halloween. I'm really, really sad about this since I enjoy writing horror. It's more taxing, but it's still fun because it lets me indulge in describing all manners of scary things. 

It would have been nice if I had it out this month - then it would have coincided with The Hungry Ghosts Festival as well, which would be cool since it's something I've tackled in DLMN #2 - In The Name Of The Soul.

Just in case you don't know what this festival is all about, here's a link to explain the basics. Here are some dos and don'ts you might want to read about as well. Interesting, eh? 

Now, for this very special post I want to leave a never-before-seen excerpt of ITNOTS. Enjoy! 
Ruth’s Volvo SUV cruised into Chinatown on the back of a dragon. Or at least that was what the bridge seemed like, with its concrete guard rails transformed into red and gold scales made of plastic and metal. The archway ahead possessed the same bold colors, with dragon heads at each end biting the edges of a white tarpaulin banner.

            It was an unusual sight but, better than that, it gave me the chance to break the silence. “What does that say?” I gestured to the Chinese characters slashed in black ink on the archway’s banner, desperate for distraction.

            After all the paper-signing in the council hall, Ruth had fetched Mae and Jonathan at a nearby mall. Mae welcomed me gladly. Jonathan…did not.

            “Yúlánpén,” she said. “It means Ghost Festival, and today’s the first day of Ghost Month.”Ruth threw me a grateful smile through the rearview mirror. Her normally cheerful round face still showed signs of strain after her earlier quarrel with her son – because of me.

            “Oh.” I wished I hadn’t asked. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would not make me sound stunned and alarmed by their holiday. Ghost Month? Really?

            “If you can’t deal with it, that’s your problem,” Jonathan muttered under his breath. He was glued to his side of the door, as if he couldn’t get far enough away from me. A now-familiar scowl had settled on his face.

            “Jonathan!” His mother’s voice was like whiplash.

            He exhaled an angry breath. “Sorry.” He sounded anything but sincere.

            “It’s okay,” I answered quickly. He was right, anyway. Amnesiacs like me can’t afford to be picky.

            Mae, his year-younger sister, threw me an apologetic glance over her shoulder from the passenger seat in front.I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile as the elephant inside the car only got bigger and angrier. Jonathan had never tried to hide the fact he was against his mother temporarily adopting me. I wished I could reassure him that I didn’t mean any harm, but I couldn’t.

            Traffic congested at the foot of the bridge and I watched the digits on the speedometer display trickle down.

            With our windows rolled down, the sound of something hitting the ground easily reached my ears, like a rainfall of pebbles.

I glanced outside. A throng of people were on the sidewalks, throwing on the ground curved red stones that looked like pairs of Ying and Yang.

            Mae saw where I was looking and explained, “It’s kind of like fortune telling from the Gods. You get ‘yes’ if both stones face the same way and ‘no’ if it’s not.”

            A huge moan drowned the last of her words, and I looked ahead when the moaning didn’t stop. The sound came from gigantic temple gates protesting against the yellow-robed monks pushing them open.

A cold gust of wind blew into the car, stinging my eyes into shutting closed. When I opened them again, a bloodied, half-naked man slammed into my side of the car, mouth gaping wide.

I screamed, backing away and bumping into Jonathan.

“Stop it, you idiot,” Mia hissed at the ghost.

My screams died when I saw Mia put her hand out to push the ghost away, rapping out something angrily in Mandarin.

“It’s just a guy in a costume,” Jonathan said under his breath.

Embarrassment flooded my face and I scrambled away from him, mumbling ‘sorry’. It had been a prank. Just a stupid prank. And I had acted like he was going to kill me. In fact, my heart was racing fast I seriously wondered if the others could hear it. Worse, the frantic tattoo of my heartbeat against my chest was awfully familiar, as if terror had a permanent place in my life – whatever it was.

I caught a glimpse of Jonathan’s face. His cheeks were flushed, and I wished I could disappear, hating how I seemed to keep giving him more reasons to consider me a nutcase.

Mia had finished snarling. The man’s face was white and he had sprung away from Ruth’s car, hands held up like her words had convicted him.

After stabbing the man’s back with one last glare, Ruth checked me through the rearview mirror, her dark eyes seeking mine, her slightly rounded cheeks made pink by her outburst. “You okay, Fiona?”

I watched the man slink away, his shoulders hunched, our roles now reversed, and I was the one haunting him. “Yeah.” But I wasn’t, and we all knew it.

“Ghost Month isn’t anything like Halloween, really, but some of these kids try so hard to Americanize it.” Ruth rolled her eyes.

“It’s okay.” I cleared my throat, hating how my voice croaked.“It’s my fault, too, for being so jumpy.”

            Ruth shook her head so adamantly her short hair bounced. “Don’t think like that. You’re actually doing quite well, considering the circumstances.”

            The circumstances…It sounded better than the proverbial elephant, I supposed, and way much better than the truth of having my memories carved out by an accident.

            “So,” Mia said brightly, “did you like the clothes I bought for you?”

            “Umm…”

            Everyone – even Jonathan - burst into laughter. “All the stuff you bought for her was either pink or had ruffles. Only someone silly like you would like something like that,” her brother retorted.

            Mia grinned shamelessly. “I just wanted to make sure we could swap clothes. And besides, I knew she’d look good in them.” She chatted nonstop about the things we could do over the summer, keeping the mood lighthearted throughout the ride.

Outside, the lively colors of the festival had gradually disappeared and muddied into bland and ugly shades of brown and gray as Ruth drove deeper and deeper into the throat of Chinatown – Ong Pin, which was the area’s main road.

There were no houses but just one low-rise building after another, nothing that went past five stories. I couldn’t imagine memorizing the ins and outs of Chinatown when everything looked exactly the same. A few more minutes passed and then Ruth was maneuvering the car into an expansive parking lot, waving back to a uniformed guard as she did.

“Jonathan, get Fiona’s stuff,” Ruth said.

Without a word, Jonathan took my suitcase out of the trunk.

“I can do that---” I started but shut up at his look.  Five minutes later, and I was thankful I hadn’t insisted too hard. The Changs lived in the fourth floor, which would have been fine if their apartment building had an elevator. When I reached the fourth landing, I was breathing hard while the others still looked refreshed, like they had just stepped out of the shower.

I glanced down – the narrow, U-shaped stairs prevented me from seeing beyond the last two flights but its sight still made me dizzy. The thought of having to climb them every day made me feel even dizzier.

“Welcome to home sweet home,” Ruth said as she unlocked the door and pushed it open with her shoulder. A tall, dark shadow slipped past her, and the hairs on my nape stood up.

I glanced at Mia and Jonathan, wondering if they had seen it, too.

Jonathan caught me looking. “What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” And there was nothing, I told myself, because I didn’t have the ability to see ghosts. I didn’t. I didn’t. 

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Jason and Keanne - Last Sneak Peek!

10/3/2013

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Jason and Keanne - An Excerpt

9/14/2013

7 Comments

 
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Jason Chalkias is a Greek god, a billionaire, but more than that he’s beautiful inside - the kind of guy someone damaged like me doesn’t deserve. I know people think I’m a slut for once dating a married man. I think so, too, but Jason says I’m better than everyone thinks, that in me he sees a girl any guy would be lucky to have.

The wild child who lives next door...the young girl who’s always desperate to make him smile – that’s how Jason thinks of me but no more. I’m eighteen now and Jason needs to understand that I’ve never thought of him as a substitute father – or even a brother. He’s my life, my best friend – there’s no guy whom I could ever more.

In an all-out bid to win his love, I risk everything on a bet: for every secret date we have, I must date another boy after. Jason says it will help me realize someone out there is better for me. What I don’t realize until it’s too late is that Jason also thinks someone out there is better for him...but it is not me – and it might never be me.
AN EXCERPT
(unedited)
Overkill, ma petite – simply overkill. Jason Christakos sighed, but the sound was more amused than resigned as he gazed at his protégé drive into the club’s parking lot with her usual flair for drama.

Keanne Summers had come a long way in the four years they had been friends, and it was not just because she had finally shed off the baby fat, ditched the glasses for contacts, and found the right treatment for her hair to be glossy and her skin acne free.

Even though she still had not come down, all eyes were on Keanne’s SUV, which – like its owner – was unapologetically attention-grabbing. Her ride was a Volvo S60R with a hot pink custom paint job because - as she had once seriously told a perplexed Jason – Keanne wanted to be the girl version of Edward Cullen, whatever that meant and whoever that Edward may be.

The door opened and out she came, fashionable and sexy in a sixties-inspired dress with its high collar and long loose sleeves. Of course, it was also short enough for it to effectively display her shapely legs and killer red heels. She was the picture of youthful fun and glamour, with not the smallest hint of the bitter and disillusioned teenager she had once been.

                Their gazes met.

                A playful smile immediately curved on Keanne’s lips even as her fingers brushed her chest, using the private sign of communication they had once designed out of desperation. That simple touch over her heart meant one thing. I am here for you, mon bébé.

                The silent words numbed the agonizing wound inside him, enough for Jason to regain a little of his sense of humor. A few minutes ago, he had thought it would take him forever to smile. But with his little spitfire in front him, he didn’t just want to smile. He found himself able to forget.

Jason made Keanne wait, just to provoke her. His cue came when her forehead started to furrow, and Jason swiftly crossed the street to get to her side. When he reached Keanne, his hot-tempered little doe was scowling.

He grinned, unable to help it.

She threw her hands up at the sight, a very French gesture that made Jason’s lips twitch unexpectedly. “You made me wait!” Angry sparks shot out from her gray eyes. “Why do you always insist on making me wait?”

                Jason’s grin turned into a full-fledged laugh, a dark seductive sound that had women all around them wishing they were the one who had elicited it. If they had, then perhaps one of them might have had the luck to spend a night in the divinely gorgeous Jason Christakos’ bed.

                “But of course I must make you wait, ma petite. How else are we to ensure that you do not become like one of your peers?” Jason’s faint shudder was not altogether feigned. “I do not want you to think you are all that.”

                Keanne snorted. “Oh, you mean between the two of us, you’re the only one allowed to have an ego?” Even as she spoke, Jason’s hand had already comfortably gone to the small of her back, guiding her to the entrance of the club, where the line of waiting guests had already wrapped around the entire block.

                As the club’s guards immediately waved them in, their faces alone guaranteeing their entrance, Jason said arrogantly, “I am Greek. Of course I am the only one that should have an ego. And as a woman, you must pander to me.”

                She spouted French curses at him, and she was still doing so despite Jason’s laughter by the time they were escorted to one of the private second-floor lounges reserved for VIP guests.

                He waited for her to slide first into the tiny velvet-seated booth before following, folding his long jeans-encased legs under the black mirror-surfaced table.

Keanne fell silent when Janet, the sexy brunette who identified herself as their personal server, finally left, the subtle message which she imparted about what “personal” meant still lingering in the air.

                Her sudden withdrawn attitude bemused him. “Ma petite?”

                In seconds, she had closed the distance between them, her arms going around him. "Je suis désolée,” Keanne whispered against his neck.

                Ah.

                “You remember your promise, no?” Her words were strongly accented, just like his own English would hint of his Greek bloodline when his emotions ran high, threatening to overcome his rigid self-control.

                She did not wait for him to answer. “Quand cet homme méprisable…” Keanne inhaled sharply, willing herself to stay under control. When she spoke again, she returned to English, using it as another shield for her feelings. “When that despicable man came to my school, demanding to see the principal, wanting me to be expelled – do you remember that day?”

                He did.

                They both did.

                “Do you,” she asked fiercely, “remember what you told me when I called you in tears?”

                Jason’s eyes closed as the painfully bittersweet memory came into life with vivid clarity.

Her sobs had been heartbreaking to hear, but he had steeled himself against it, knowing that the time had come for her to save herself.

                “Please come here s'il vous plait,” Keanne had begged, her words a jumble of English and French. “Please, please, please---”

                She had begged him over and over, crying her heart out, and he let her. But when she fell silent, Jason said flatly, “No.”

                Her moan was full of betrayal, and everything in him wanted to go to her – his little dove, the one thing in his world who was right. He had fucked up so many times with all the people he had loved, but with Keanne he had made sure he would do everything right – and he would be damned if he would let pity sway him to doing otherwise.

                “Listen to me.” Those were the very first words he had used to command her when he was young, to train her to be as strong and as ruthless as he was in clawing her way back to the top.

                Her sobs quieted, and his chest constricted at the way Keanne was doing her best to follow him.

                “Later, when you come home, I will be waiting for you, ma petite. In my arms, you can cry – I want you to cry, I want to comfort you. I want to be there for you. With me, you can be weak – but not with anyone else.”

                “Oui,” she whispered, but her voice still shook.

                It made Jason bite out sharply, “No more tears!”

                He heard her swallowing hard, and when she spoke her voice was still hoarse but firmer. “Yes.”

                Good. She was speaking in English now. Her shield was up, and that was exactly how it should be.

                “Only with me, Keanne. Never forget that. You cannot be weak with anyone else. All these years that I have helped you become strong will be for nothing if you give up now.”

                She did not answer.

                He did not allow it. “Do you understand, Keanne?”

                An eternity passed. “Yes.”

                “Then go. Remember that you are stronger and better than what everyone may say. They do not deserve your tears – do not deserve to see you flinch even the smallest way.”

                This time, her answer was stronger, colder. “Yes.”

                “Make me proud, ma petite. And when you come home, only then you can cry.”

Keanne lifted her head even as she kept her arms around Jason’s neck. His face was drawn with pain, and the sight of it made her want to lash out. “This time,” she told him in a shaky but determined voice, “You can be weak with me.”

7 Comments

A Daydream Snippet from Nick & Lilac

8/7/2013

3 Comments

 
I'm really, really happy with the feedback I've gotten so far from both beta readers and readers alike about NNL. I just hope that you'll all like the book as much as I loved writing it. This particular book is very special to me because it's the first one that's allowed me to indulge in a little bit of historical romance.

It's one of my greatest dreams to write a historical romance but alas, the details that kind of novel requires is very intimidating. So for now I can only satisfy myself with snippets such as this one I'm about to share. 

P.S. For those who don't know, Lilac in NNL has a tendency to daydream about being a lady in the Regency period, with Nick as the duke.
The museum was crowded with faces both familiar and unfamiliar, but no one bothered to speak with her and she was happy it was so. She could spend hours looking at these paintings, could lose herself in imagining that she would be in one of its paint-brushed worlds. There, she would be a beautiful girl, one with friends and suitors aplenty---
“Milady,” a voice suddenly whispered devilishly from somewhere behind her.
---and certainly she would not be pursued by a duke whose motives she still could not comprehend.
Could she pretend she had not heard him?
“If you do not look at me, my darling girl, you will regret it.” But the way the duke said the words, it was as if he was not delivering a threat but the most tempting of promises.
She muttered crossly, “I am not your darling girl.” But even so, she was already turning, her heart started beating madly, knowing once again she would be gazing upon the duke’s coldly beautiful face.
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The (Incomplete) First Chapter of Suit & Fangs

7/24/2013

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I don't want to give everything away, but with this part of the first chapter, I want you all to have an idea of how it will be for Suit & Fangs and other books to be set in the same world as The Moretti Werewolf novels. They're a lot darker, but not to worry - the sizzling chemistry between our H and h will still be there. :) After all, building relationships between two opposites is one of my favorite parts of the job. 
And so without further ado, here's our last sneak peek of SNF.
Chapter One

Luka & Caylie

6 Months Ago

 

Her eighteenth birthday was going to suck. She meant it in a literal sense, knowing she was only a few seconds away of having her throat sucked by a horribly aroused Caro male.

She leaned back against the club’s cold granite wall, indifferent to the hot, jerky breaths against her throat. Her sensitive ears picked up the second the sound of fangs flashed out, her skin prickling as the guy’s body over hers trembled in ill-suppressed excitement.

He was incredibly aroused and getting more so with each second that she let pass without moving away. Any moment now, he would be able to taste her in the most primal sense for all Caros, something similar to having public sex.

The other guests in the bar weren’t bothering to hide the fascination in their gazes. Caylie could feel their eyes feasting on her and this – this nameless guy – over her body. She knew what they were thinking. The Caylie Sonora everyone knew, once as untouchable as the sun, was no more. This Caylie was different and darker, the embodiment of all their forbidden desires.

Almost every guy in the club were panting, their fangs threatening to burst out the longer Caylie did nothing to prevent a nobody from mauling her in full view of everyone.  

Luka Georgiades.

Her eyes shot wide open at the sound of that terribly beautiful name, her attention immediately drawn to the 3D TV screen mounted in one corner of the bar. As this was a Caro establishment, there was no need to pretend they were humans. They served drinks with blood, played music so loud human ears would have long started to bleed, and the TV tuned in to a Caro-owned network that required special wiring and coding to access.

“Officially endorsed by the Lyccan Council…strong contender for the Advisor position...maybe no longer an eligible bachelor by the end of the year?”

Something inside Caylie snapped as she heard the last juicy bit of rumor the reporter was delivering with relish.

The scene with the reporter faded, but he continued with a voiceover as the screen revealed a politely smiling Luka stepping out of his limousine. Young, dashing, powerful, and with a fucking overly made-up bitch at his side.

Caylie hissed in contempt. A nouveau riche upstart. Was that what he was into these days? Maybe this cheap bitch was so kinky that she made Caylie look boring?

Her heart shuddered with rage as the woman at his side tiptoed to blow into his ear, like it needed a tornado to get clean. Really? That was what he wanted? A cougar who liked to play porn-style janitor in public?

She waited for Luka to move away at the disgusting display of intimacy, but he did not. If anything, his smile actually widened.

Caylie’s blood went cold – an indication of fear for humans but for Caros it was a warning – a sign of the most devastating fury.

Why?

Even after so many months of crying, of going through a thousand what-if situations in her mind, Caylie still could not understand why he had left her, why Luka had to throw her away in such a publicly humiliating manner when normally even the thought of sneezing in public would have been loathsome for him.

And he had done it at her come-out ball no less, as if Luka wanted to give her every reason to hate him.

She pushed the guy away, no longer uncaring, no longer dead to the world.

Her eyes, glowing midnight black, flicked back to the screen, where Luka had started answering questions, his arm wrapped casually around the woman’s waist.

Her fingers curled, sharp nails almost slicing into the flesh of her palms.

Luka Georgiades was going to pay.

She would damn make sure of it.

~~~

Violet eyes turned to midnight black as he pictured his fingers encircling her slender neck before squeezing, punishing her for daring to let another man soil her skin with his touch. When he saw the guy’s mouth open, fangs glistening with saliva as they start to stretch out, his own fangs extended as a snarl rapidly made its way out of his throat.

“ LUKA.”

Claws bit into his shoulders, the pain snatching him back from his murderous hallucinations just before he snapped and killed someone for good. He crashed back to reality with a gasp, the blackness in his eyes taking more than a moment to recede.

“Breathe,” Domenico Moretti urged him quietly. The werewolf prince’s gaze was concerned when he met Luka’s turbulent violet eyes.

“I told you,” Luka said in an uncharacteristically revealing tone as bitterness twisted his perfectly shaped lips into a grim smile. “I can’t handle being this close to her anymore.”

Domenico shook his head sharply. “That’s not true. You can and you will. I won’t lose one of my best allies to vampires just because you’re too fucking---”

“NO.” Luka’s head snapped back to the club, his eyes unerringly finding Caylie amidst the glittering backdrop. He had heard his name on the TV screen, knew what the report would be---

The sight of Caylie pushing off the guy panting above her should have relieved Luka, but it didn't. He could sense her hurt, welling inside her like it came from a bottomless pit. So much pain – was he the one who caused her all that?

That kind of pain didn’t kill, he reminded himself. But if he came back into her life, if he gave in to the temptation of claiming her, the kind of pain it could cause would be irrevocable. If he came back to her, sooner or later Caylie would die – in his own hands and there was no going back after that.

  

The Brethren

Present Time

 

A uniformed guard suddenly blocked the way of my parents, heels clicking hard against the ground when they were about to open the doors leading into the Discipline Hall. The sound echoed in the enormous marbled hallway, and I tried not to shiver. Only this part of the Brethren was free from the gay and busy crowds that filled its magnificently vast and opulently decorated ballrooms every day. This was also the part that all the Caros painstakingly avoided. Once you crossed this hall, there was a chance you’d never come out alive of it.

The guard’s gaze lingered on me. I had a feeling he thought I deserved to be here, with how disgraceful I looked. My hair was a mess, my makeup ruined, and one strap of my sparkly flapper dress was torn, leaving it to rest limply against my bare arm.

Image to Caros was everything, and yet here I was---a living blasphemy of everything our race stood for.

“Our apologies, sir, madam, but only violators may enter.” The guard’s face was expressionless when he spoke.

Violators were just a misdeed away from traitors. Violators could be punished, reprimanded, or tortured but for traitors there was no hope, no stay for execution.

All eyes were suddenly on me – the violator.

Panic eclipsed every emotion I felt for one fraction of a second, but I managed to hold it back. I forced a smile. Caros were never supposed to show their real feelings – and especially not the kind that put us at a disadvantage.

“I’ll go alone.” This was what I wanted. This was what I told myself I would die trying to have – and now was the time to prove it.

I didn’t turn to catch one last look at my parents when the ten-foot-tall steel doors closed behind me, not even when I heard Catherine Sonora’s sharp intake of breath as I gently extricated my hand from her tight grasp. My mom might seem frail, a tiny society blonde who only knew how to spend money – but she was more than that. She was a fighter, but I had a feeling she’d break down if she knew how terrified I was at this moment.

The Discipline Hall was glaringly bright and intensely humid. Sunlight burned my skin here and there, with golden rays managing to sneak past the mosaic art that made up the hall’s ceiling, the rainbow shades of glass leaving stinging spots on my flesh.

The mosaic portrait was like something straight out of an urban fantasy book cover – an Armageddon scene depicted in the most elegant selection of colors. It was but a taste of how violators could be punished, of how Caros still insisted on finding grace and beauty even in the way they inflicted pain.

Our ancient artists had vividly painted with glass vampires dying in a pool of blood in one corner, a murder of vidanges nesting on top of pine trees as they feasted on human flesh, werewolves howling on a full moon atop scraggly mountains while Souris with their pastel-colored wings, the mortal kindred of angels, soared into the midnight sky.

And behind it all was our race, infamous for our standoffish stance in wars between non-human lines. Or at least that was so before it became obvious to everyone that an alliance was all that stood between our race and eventual annihilation.

My eyes were stinging by the time I stopped a small respectful distance away from the judge’s bench, which was twice as large as what you’d normally see in human courtrooms. I had to crane my neck all the way up just to meet the eyes of the reviewer.

Here was yet another expressionless Caro, dressed in Brethren’s judicial robes, hood down to reveal sleek black hair and piercing silver eyes. She was young, probably not more than a few years older, but that wasn’t what shocked me.

Age wasn’t a factor in our society. What made me stumble was the red rim around her left eye. I couldn’t believe someone like her existed and that she was one of our reviewers. I glanced at her eyes again, but the blood rim around her left eye was gone, making me wonder if the Discipline Hall was rigged to make its defendants hallucinate into telling the truth.

“State your case.”

Nails digging deep into my flesh in an effort to keep my voice from shaking, I recited from memory the lines that we were taught as children if we were ever taken as violators of our code. “My name is Caylie Sonora. I am eighteen years old, and I have been sent here in violation of Order #4 under Act 5.”

A minute pause before the reviewer glanced down at the documents she held in one hand. “Five counts of violation listed here – academic failure, inappropriate public behavior in human presence, irresponsible behavior in Caro society, invalid absence from Brethren general assemblies, and lastly – public intake of blood.”

The memory of that one last violation blanketed my gaze, with Brethren guards coming out of nowhere at the club. One second, I was striving hard not to move away, to let a stranger’s fangs sink into my neck, but the next thing I knew I was being arrested, so discreetly that no one – not even all the Caros who had been lost in the throes of liquor-induced pleasure – had known what was taking place under the loud throbbing beat of music.

The reviewer’s gaze met mine. “Plea or bargain, Ms. Sonora?”

“Guilty.” I was probably the only Caro to stand before the reviewer’s bench to say that. To plead guilty was to virtually sign away my life, to let the Brethren do as it will with me.

And yet the reviewer didn’t even bat an eyelash. She asked calmly, “Do you understand the consequences of your actions?”

I bowed my head. “Yes, Invisa.” That was a reviewer’s title in our language, and it was the only way to refer to them. We were prohibited from using their first names the moment they were appointed, a reminder that all their personal ties had to cease the moment they donned a reviewer’s robes.

“I apologize sincerely for it and I would gladly pay for whatever harm I had done our society.” I meant every word. My vendetta was exactly that – mine. If someone had been hurt other than him because of my actions, then so be it. It only meant I had to wait another lifetime to extract vengeance.

The reviewer murmured slowly, “There was no negative result of your actions that had been reported – but there could have been.” Her long nails, painted deep purple, tapped the desk. “I assume you know the standard corrective response for this would be rehabilitation under direct supervision of a Brethren official.”

“Yes, Invisa.” I tried not to hold my breath but couldn’t. This was what I had gambled my entire future for.

Her gaze went back to the documents she held in her hands. “But I have a feeling that if I do that then I would be playing right into your hands.”

Shit.

I hastily tried to school my expression back into blandness, but it was too late. I had already betrayed myself. I could see it in the way her gaze narrowed.

She leaned back against her seat. “I’m going to ask you three questions – and if you were to answer me untruthfully I would know and there will be no bargain, no hope, no anything to save you from being thrown into the dungeons for fifty years.”

“I will speak the truth, Invisa.” My voice thankfully didn’t shake even as my knees started to feel weak. The weight of her stare was oppressive, as if she was already carving the truth out of my soul. She made me feel small, the way I was so scantily dressed, the way I had led my life for the past sixt months---so terribly unfit to bear our race’s name.

“Will you die for the Brethren?”

I didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes.”

“Do you believe the Brethren’s decisions are always right?”

This time I paused before saying finally, “No.”

The reviewer smiled. It made her beautiful, but it also made her appear deadlier and I was starting to understand why someone so young had been chosen to hold one of the highest positions in our society.

“And if I were to let you choose who among the Brethren would be your rehabilitators---”

A gasp escaped. Never in my blackest dreams had I thought I would have a chance to choose.

Her smile became a mixture of sweetness and poison. “Who would you choose, Caylie Sonora?”

My eyes turned black as I answered very softly, “Luka Georgiades.”

Our gazes met, and that was when I saw it again, the red rim shining so brightly it was turned the iris of her left eye into a blood moon set in a silvery lake.

“So be it,” the reviewer said just as softly. “I shall order Luka Georgiades to be your rehabilitator, with orders not to leave your side until you have been set back in the right path. He is also to be informed that you have argued strongly against his endorsement---”

My head shot up.

“---but this review has overrode your preferences.”

One blink and she was gone.

Another blink and she stood right in front of me, her speed and the power that was coiled inside her causing me to stumble back in stunned realization. Dark. So, so dark. How could this be?

“Yes.” Her voice was a vicious caress in itself. “I am half-vampire, the only one in this world and I see things that nobody else sees. Your life and his life are forever entwined, but the bonds are twisted and tainted by my kind.”

This close, the red rim was disturbingly mesmerizing, tempting me to stare into it forever. It took all of my power to wrench my gaze away from the reviewer’s. “I don’t understand---”

“You’re not meant to just yet, but soon you will.” Another blink and she was back behind the judge’s bench.

I tried not to gasp again but failed. Just being that close to a half-vampire was enough to have me stagger back dizzily, like I had been strangled without knowing it.

“You are dismissed.” She stood in the center of the hall, more vampire than Caro even in her dauntingly sober reviewer’s robes.

Questions raced in my mind, but I knew that they wouldn’t be answered. I curtsied again before turning away on unsteady legs. As I reached for the door, the reviewer’s candy-coated voice once again reached me.

Call when there is no one to trust.

I froze, never expecting the reviewer to offer her help but when I looked back she was gone.

4 Comments

Suit and Fangs Excerpt

5/24/2013

2 Comments

 
So this is a little late in coming…but I think you’re used to that by now, right? My bad! *bows head in shame*
Off topic: did you know that because I was always late (if not absent) in school our class adviser (I’m thinking that would be homeroom teacher for you) decided not to take my name off the list of absentees / late comers on the blackboard? So now you know. =D
Well, anyway, enough dilly-dallying and let’s get on with it.
Here is my promised excerpt of Suit and Fangs. Hope you like it!

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An Excerpt of YA Romance Drawn by Marian Tee

12/6/2012

7 Comments

 
As I am having trouble adding this as the inside flap for Drawn, let me share this excerpt here and my

“I can’t believe nobody’s realized how sexy you are,” he mutters.
    At first I think he’s joking, but when Yuki keeps on scowling I end up gasping for laughter.
    His scowl worsens. “You don’t understand, senpai.” He pinches my cheeks – hard enough to make me yelp. “I told you I don’t want to share my toy. If people ever start seeing us together too often, they’re going to look at you more and more. And if you keep on with your fantasies, then they may catch you looking like you’re having an orgasm---”
    “Yuki!” It’s impossible not to turn red with all the images running through my mind now.
    “Don’t you know that a girl having an orgasm is the biggest turn on for guys?”
    “Umm, no?”
    I didn’t think his scowl can get any uglier, but it does. “Well, now you know,” he says grimly. “So promise me you’ll do your best to stop fantasizing in school, senpai.” A brooding look settles on his face. “What is it with you and your fantasies anyway?”
I’m not ready to tell him about my weird childhood encounter with porn nor am I willing to let Yuki know about my dreams of becoming a mangaka. He’s half Japanese, after all. Even if I’m drawing manga for girls, he’s still part of the target market. If he laughs at my drawing, it would annihilate me.
    “I promise I’ll do my best not to let my fantasies get the better of me,” I say instead, hoping it’s enough to distract him.
    It is. Yuki’s answering smile is breathtaking. “Good. And you don’t have to fantasize about other guys either. At least not when I’m around and I’m able to do this---” He bites my ear, hard enough that I almost gasp.
“---and this,” he murmurs as he kisses the side of my neck.
Weird, hot, wet sensations threaten to swamp my body, and I quickly move away, almost gluing myself to the window on my side so that he doesn’t get to kiss any other part of me.
“I’ll stop, I promise!” I say fervently.
Yuki laughs, but he moves back to his side of the seat.

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Heart's Stain - Erotica Romance Excerpt

11/27/2012

1 Comment

 
hearts-stain-excerpt.pdf
File Size: 60 kb
File Type: pdf
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Here we have yet another excerpt for Book 1 of a new series. But not to worry - it's a standalone book that won't leave you with any cliffhanger ending. You will get your happily (and sexy) ever after ending from this - I can promise you that.
Fingers crossed I get this out by December as well. :)
Let me know your thoughts about this!

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