Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Marice Houston is a Deputy Federal Marshal who is back home for her tenth college reunion. While there, she hooks up with a longtime friend, Kris. Though she'd been staying in a motel when she arrived, she checkout so she can stay with Kris for the rest of her vacation. Lots of crazy things happen and at one point, Kris gets hit when someone is taking a shot at Marice. Now in the hospital, his room seems to be Grand Central Station. They've had cops, another Deputy Marshal, a police detective and now Todd, the motel owner, whose nephew was also shot. He gave Marice a kiss without realizing that Kris was there.
There was yet another tap at the door. Cox poked his head in again. "Some guy from down the hall, he wanted to say hello?"
Todd. Oh, shit. I could only imagine what Kris would do or say.
"I'll come out," I said quickly.
"No. Bring him in. Old home week," Kris remarked, tight lipped.
Todd shuffled in, staying by the door, his hands in his pockets. "I owe you an apology," he said to Kris. "I—can't say sorry enough, for kissing Marice. And I apologize to you, too," he directed quickly at me.
"I'm not the one who got upset," I said. "I could have put you in a headlock, and I didn't."
"I had to know," he said quietly. "What it would be like to kiss you. A few days ago, there was interest. Then you got back with Kris, and I think that's really cool. Disappointed as hell," he said with a slight, nervous laugh. "You're a very lucky man. Marice is an incredible woman and I wish you the best."
Kris held out his hand. Todd walked over and shook it very gently.
"I understand," Kris said. "She's had that effect on me since I met her. Thank you."
"I know how I'd feel if it was me." Todd smiled, ducking out quickly.
I watched the door close, feeling a slight let down.
"That's a man with a world of hurt in his past," Kris said softly. "I wish the poor bastard the best."
Rushing to his side, I gave him a kiss. "I love you, Kristopher Wallace Hood."
"Oh, the three names," he murmured, blue eyes sparkling. "What brought that on?"
"You're lying there, with a hole in your chest, and you're worried about some guy who kissed me last night. I don't know many men who would do that." I kissed him again.
The nurse popped in, laughing when she saw us. "Dammit, maybe I should just wait until he flat lines until I check on him. I have a feeling this is going to keep happening."
"Just got back together after ten years," Kris explained. "And she loves me."
"Well, that's excellent news. At least we know that everything is working as it should be." She smirked, eyeing his groin.
"Yay!" he gave a little cheer. "I suppose this means you have to shoot me up with more bug juice?"
"You in pain?"
"Only when I breathe."
"We need to shoot you up with juice. So enjoy that while you can."
"Can't enjoy it with you watchin'," he replied with a smirk.
"Ain't my ass that's in question."
Giggling, she went out.
"So, tell me what's going on. Why's Babette here and what's up with Darla? She looked ready to bolt."
"Babette is here to keep an eye on Darla, I do believe. And if your brother were an escaped federal prisoner, what would you do around a Deputy like Babs?"
"Piss myself," he replied as the nurse came back in.
"None of that," she remarked. "You've got a catheter."
"Yeah. Not the most comfortable thing."
"It's not that bad," she countered, giving him his shot in the IV.
"Beg to differ. It's not your dick it's shoved in."
She patted his head as if he were a child and walked out.
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Fiona Cartwright and Dechlan Albright are working in Florida on a new television series. Since they're living in a relatively small town, word has gotten around quickly that there are celebrities present. It doesn't take long for folks to start recognizing them, even at the grocery store.
We got everything we needed for the meal and went to the cash register. The cashier looked up at us and smiled wide.
“I just saw your picture on Facebook. Your picture doesn't do you justice,” she simpered at Dechlan. “You're so much dreamier in person.”
“Thanks,” I snarled, feeling the spark of jealousy that was totally uncalled for. All I could think of was how Gator had cheated on me, or flirted with, every woman he met.
“Thank you. May we get our groceries now? I believe we're attracting attention,” Dechlan said in a politely neutral voice. He didn't flash his smile or pose and preen like he sometimes does. “Rory, why don't you take Fiona to the car?”
I wanted to protest, but more women were gathering at the counter, eyeing him. Kyle shoved him after us.
“We got this, bro,” he said calmly, grinning at the girls. “Sorry, ladies, you'll have to make due with us nobodys.”
“You were in the picture too, though, right?” the cashier said.
That was the last I heard as the doors closed behind us.
“Guess we start sending out for groceries,” Dechlan mused with a smirk. “You okay, baby? I thought you were about to go off there.”
“Gator flashbacks. He would have been all over that action. Thank you for not.”
“Never. I have the prettiest woman in the world in my bed. You think I want anyone less perfect?” He nuzzled my throat and I practically purred.
“Good answer, Mr. Albright.”
“Thank you, Miss Cartwright. I'd spend the next hour or two convincing you, but family....” He shrugged, tossing his head at Rory.
“And the subs would go soggy.”
“Oh, subs!” He laughed, “True. I see now why we got the drippy things on the side.”
“Always. Not everyone squeezes out the pickles.”
“Nothing worse than a dripping—pickle.” He said it in such a way it sounded distinctly sexual.
Rory and I burst out laughing. Dechlan chuckled quietly as he leaned against the car. We'd forgotten that Kyle had the keys, since he'd driven over. I hadn't brought my spare. They were out soon after, with a male bagger in tow. He didn't seem the least bit interested in the men, though he gave me a once over—three or four times.
“Oh, my fucking god,” he breathed. “ Eye Candy Super Model! Oh, my god!” He scrambled around for a pen and paper, after he loaded the groceries. Handing them to me, his hands trembling, he asked without asking.
It was so precious, I not only signed my autograph, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. My bright berry lipstick stood out like a badge of honor on his right cheek. Dechlan took a picture of us on the boy's phone and sent him back inside with a ten dollar tip. The men watched the boy walking back to the store.
“Jizzed himself,” Dechlan declared as the boy adjusted the leg of his pants.
“Yep. He'll remember this moment the rest of his life,” Kyle said with a smirk. “Damn, baby sister! I never thought of you as a sex symbol.”
“But that boy sure does,” Rich added with a shift of his shoulders. “Dammit, you suppose Jessica Alba's brother feels like I do right now?”
“Like you want to throttle him?” Kyle asked as he opened the car. “If she's got one, pretty damn sure he does.”
There wasn't a lot of talk in the car until we were out of the parking lot.
“That was a strange experience,” Rory said. “Fame, eh? What's your opinion on that, Fiona?”
“Not sure yet, Rory. I guess we'll find out. And that boy didn't think I was a sex symbol,” I said sternly, punching Kyle when he stopped for the light.
All for males turned to me as if they'd practiced it. Their expressions were identical, as if to say, Go on living in denial because you obviously aren't wise enough to live in the real world. My interpretation might be a bit cynical.
“My darling Fiona,” Rory said in a patronizing tone. “You have six brothers and yet you continue to amaze me at how oblivious you are to the inner workings of the male mind. Shocking. Very. You lot are useless,” he chided Kyle and Rich. “Didn't teach her a damn thing about men. What were you thinking?”
Kyle laughed. Rich blushed. “Considering how we all are, we figured maybe she was better off not knowing.”
“Now I'm very interested! How you all are? Hmm? I hear a story there.”
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
Monday, June 20, 2016
Grunting and bleeding Domino made another try. Suddenly, he was staring at the barrels of two nasty guns with equally lethal looking women behind them. Ann and Mickey kept him covered while Ralan cuffed his wrists behind him and gave him a thorough search. Jerking him upright by his cuffed hands, Ralan shoved Domino forward.
"I'll kill you for this, Hendrix."
"Yeah, yeah," Ralan said with a sneer.
Domino slammed into Ralan's body, trying to knock him over. Ann tripped him as Mickey grabbed his cuffs, jerking his hands up behind his back as he fell. Domino howled as his shoulders wrenched. Dragging him upright, Ralan yanked on the cuffs again, making the big man scream.
"You have the right to remain silent," Ralan said conversationally as he led him back to the waiting vehicles. "What took you two so long?" he asked politely as he wiped blood from his lip. "I was getting my ass kicked."
"You looked like you could take him," Ann said in a friendly tone. "We didn't want to spoil your fun."
"Next time, spoil it," Ralan said.
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
Wednesday, June 22 at 4 PM EDT, 3 CDT, 2 MDT, 1 PDT
Dellani and Christina are delighted to welcome back Janet and Chris Morris for another lively talk about their work as authors, their love of horses, music, mayhem and anything else that strikes the fancy.
Janet has more books and short stories than can be easily counted. Well known for her fantasy and sci-fi work, she has also written historical fiction and any number of other genres. We're thrilled to have her back!
Chris is not only an author, he also is a talented musician and has an amazing speaking voice. He has read several of Janet's works for audiobooks.
It's always fun with the Morrises around. Join us for a lively and entertaining show.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Savage Heart is the sequel to Indian Summer. Set in 1740, things are heating up between the Spanish and British. A war in Europe, between the two nations, has dribbled over the ocean to the New World. As the situation worsens, the Governor decides to send the women to Jamaica for safety. Gabriella, of course, refuses.
"You're insufferable!" Manuel threw up his hands, tugging at his hair. "How can I do my job when I'm worried about you?"
"And what will your job be? The most unavoidably difficult and dangerous? Why would you choose something easy? You live for the adventure, Manuel. Admit it. You hunger for the active life of a soldier again."
"Nothing of the sort, Gabriella," he muttered unconvincingly.
"Well, what then? Tell me. I demand to know!"
"Very well." Manuel rubbed his chin, pursing his lips. "I am going to spy on the British soldiers and try to infiltrate the ranks as an Indian compatriot."
Gabriella's blue eyes chilled as she glanced from her husband to her father. "I'm not happy with that," she said quietly. "I know whatever we learn from them, they can learn from us. What's to prevent them using you against us?"
"They won't know who I am," he tried to explain.
"Manuel!" Anguish filled her voice, her heartbreak plain. "You can't, you simply can't! Papa, I won't let you send him!"
"Me, send him? My girl, this is the first I've heard this wild notion."
Gabriella slapped her husband, bursting into tears. Manuel grasped his cheek, face reddening as he fought his anger. He could understand his young wife's hysteria, but that made it no easier to deal with. A man well known for his temper, he sought to control it.
"You promised me," she growled. "You promised after we were wed that you'd never leave! As we came together that first night, you said, Cariña, I'll never leave you again. This I swear. So what of your promise now?"
Her father and brothers-in-law looked extremely embarrassed. This conversation tread on intimate secrets between man and wife.
"I do this to protect you, Cariña," Manuel said, tight-lipped, his fingers pressed against the red mark on his cheek. "I do this for us all."
"What if I told you I am with child?"
"Forgive me, my love, but you're above such manipulations. Even if I thought it was true, I'd still go. It is more than just our love and happiness at stake here. This is for everyone, including any children we may have."
"You're impossible!" Gabriella raised her hand to strike him again, bursting into angry tears.
Manuel put up his arms to block another strike, but it never came. Her father insinuated himself between them. Manuel stepped back, bowing slightly. Gabriella stamped her foot, crossing her arms angrily across her chest.
Turning abruptly, she stalked from the room, back to the loggia, leaving the door open behind her. "You promised." her voice drifted back to them, lingering on the breeze.
"Don't just stand there," Jason said, moving toward the door himself. "Go after her!"
Hesitantly, Manuel raced out the door. He found Gabriella wandering in the plaza across from her father's house. Approaching cautiously, he saw that she wasn't crying. Tears streaked her face, but she was calmer now, her sobs had subsided. She slumped to the ground as he approached.
"May I sit? Or do you wish to slap me again?" He held himself stiffly, his anger still bubbling near the surface.
"Sit, damn you. I can't stop you from doing what you want."
"Don't say anything. Don't tell me again how you do this for me and our children. I don't want to hear that. You swore to me, Manuel! You promised!"
Tucking the tails of his coat in front of him, he dropped gracefully to the grass. Taking a deep breath, he bent his head ignominiously. "A man may say many things in the heat of passion, Bella. It doesn't make them any less true, but it certainly makes them less—accurate." He shrugged, staring across the moonlit water. His long fingers absently tugged at tufts of grass.
Gabriella laughed suddenly, her bright giggle filling the cool night air. "How can you wiggle out of something so important by claiming it was said in passion and therefore not binding? Words spoken when you're in my arms should be even more of a firm promise."
"Firm, eh? I'll remember that. A very firm promise, eh Cariña?"
"You're very fortunate I love you, else I'd be tempted to slap you again. Get that expression off your face."
"Which expression is that, my sweet? The one that shows you how much I love you?" He moved closer, pulling her to him. "Or the one that says you are the most beautiful woman in my world and I can never get enough of loving you?" He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. "God, I love you, Bella," he purred.
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Once in awhile, Dellani and Christina talk to one another, as well as a few stellar authors, and chat about using social media to publicize yourself as an author. Listen in MONDAY JUNE 13 at 4:00 PM Eastern time (3 Central, 2 Mountain, 1 Pacific) when we chat with JD Holliday, Karen Vaughan and Marta Moran Bishop.
JD Holiday Janosse the Goose, The Spy Game, The Great Snowball Escapade and more at Amazon
Karen Vaughan Left for Dead, Jamaica Dead, Daytona Dead and many more at Amazon
Marta Moran Bishop The Between Times, Darkness Descends, Dinky: The Nurse Mare's Foal, and many more at Amazon
Rachel Rueben Hag, Eternal Bond, Fedelta. Rachel's Amazon page
Dellani Oakes Lone Wolf, One Night in Daytona Beach, Room 103 and many more at Amazon
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Wil's back and he's just as bad as ever (but in a totally hot and lethal way). Join him and Matilda as they wend their way into deep space, in a space race with the infamous John Riley.
You can find Lone Wolf for sale at Amazon with this fantastic new cover! Please note, if it hasn't got this cover, it isn't the Dellani Oakes authorized edition and I don't get paid. (For full disclosure on this, click here.)
For your reading enjoyment, a teaser from Chapter 5 of Lone Wolf!
The room was Spartan with a single round table top sitting on crates. Three chairs surrounded it. The small room smelled of decay and mold. A timeworn ceiling fan moved the thick, moist air with very little effect. The beads jangled aside, moved by a gnarled, age spotted hand, more like a crustaceous claw than a human appendage. An old woman stepped through. The ancient, wrinkled face gazed up at them. Her clear, bright green eyes bored into theirs; steady, calm, unwavering. Wisps of thin, white hair were pushed back with another frail and trembling clawlike hand. She wore a faded black woolen dress; long sleeved, even in the oppressive heat. Around her tiny shoulders was a white knit shawl.
She smiled up at Wil, then turned to Matilda. "Welcome, my dears. Please sit."
Wil remained standing. Matilda sat across from the old lady who hobbled to her seat. She was the tiniest woman Matilda had ever seen. Just over four feet tall, her body was frail and thin. Her gaze compelled Wil to sit reluctantly at Matilda's side.
"Let me see your hands, child," she said to Matilda.
Slowly, she raised her hands, holding them across the table. The old woman reached over gracefully, taking Matilda's hands in hers. Like moths in the dark, her touch was light, fluttering. Lady Lena studied them, muttering to herself.
"These are good, strong hands. You've worked hard in your life, my dear."
Lady Lena turned the palms up, tracing the lines with one delicate finger. A hiss escaped her lips. She took the other hand, tracing those lines too. She studied the palms a few moments longer, going over and over the lifeline with her nail. With a decisive nod, Lady Lena drew a dome shaped object from her lap. It could have been wood or metal, it was impossible to tell, for it was more ancient than she. The lid was dark and sleek, polished to a dull sheen, as if hundreds of hands had held it, caressing it tenderly for centuries. It was devoid of all ornamentation, with no visible seams.
Chanting, she closed her eyes, moving her hands over the box once, twice, three times. She pressed both hands on the sides of the domed container. Leaning across the table, she slid the box toward them.
"Place your right hands on the dome. If it opens, take what is offered."
"And if it doesn't open?" Wil asked.
The old woman's eyes flashed brilliant green, a suppressed fire dwindled to almost nothing, throbbing in the iris. "If it doesn't open, then I have wasted our time." Lifting her chin, she gestured sharply to the box. "Touch it."
They did as she told them. The dome felt warm, pulsating and sleek. Suddenly, the box flew open without a sound, startling Matilda, making her jump. Wil stiffened in his chair. Inside were two rings, one shiny black, the other matte white. They were suspended in the air above the box, spinning around in and out of one another. A bright light illuminated them from below, though Wil couldn't detect its source. Faster they spun until only a blur. They came to a gradual stop, no longer black and white, but a silky gray. The rings floated serenely in midair above the box.
"Take them quickly! They will be offered only once!"
Lady Lena motioned to Matilda first, who gingerly reached out toward the nearest ring. Wil remained wary and reluctant to touch the ring.
The vivid green eyes locked with his black one without wavering or blinking. "Take it, boy. One can't work alone and this offer lasts only a short time. Take it!"
Reaching out his hand, he took the other ring. The box flicked shut, grazing his knuckles. The old woman took the dome back into her lap, waiting as they put on the rings.
"It's time for you to go now, children." She rose to leave.
Wil got up angrily. "We came for a reading, old woman! We'll have one before we leave."
The old lady glared at him, then the anger passed from her face. "Very well, a reading you came for, one you shall have," she replied sorrowfully. "But be warned, not all like what I see."
Her eyes took on a faraway expression, her breathing slowed to a mere flutter as she went into a trance. Even to Wil the skeptic, it looked authentic and he had to admit that this old woman truly held great power. He could sense it vibrating in the very air surrounding them.
"The Lone Wolf howls alone now, the Romance gone from his life. Into the Halls of the Hallowed Dead you shall go. Into greater darkness shall you pass. What was lost to the Ancient One shall be returned, the journey started. To love's end shall you come, life everlasting shall be yours. Love eternal." She blinked, coming out of her trance quickly, a touch of sorrow in her eyes. "Go now, children."
As they turned to leave, she pointed at Wil, saying sternly, "Beware, Lone Wolf, lest the Rat-Faced Man fasten his teeth onto your heels. Proceed with caution, the claws of the Dragon Lady are sharper than you know." She strode from the room, the bead curtain clattering behind her with a note of finality.
They walked quickly from that place. Wil felt the hackles rise on his neck. Matilda had an odd urgency to leave. They went a dozen or so paces from the house when the air shimmered and the ground shook. Looking behind them, they saw that the house gone. Only the rings on their fingers bore evidence to the fact that they had been there.
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, June 07, 2016
Drew Carlson is a lifeguard with a terrible love life. Every woman he's ever dated has ended up married to one of his friends instead. Then he meets Magda Yarkowsky, a Georgian from Georgia (The country near Russia and a state just to the north of Florida) His life changes from somewhat routine to far more exciting. On their first date, Drew takes Magda to dinner at a comedy club.
The lights dimmed and the owner of the club stepped onto the small stage to introduce the first act. The comedian took the stage and started talking. He was moderately funny, but Magda didn't really even crack a smile after the first few minutes. As they were sitting right by the stage, her silence was fairly obvious and it was making the comedian nervous, throwing off his timing.
"Hey, lady, do you have a problem with me?" He stepped forward, pointing at Magda. His New Jersey accent wasn't entirely for his act. "I'm working hard up here."
"My English is not so good. I not understand you."
Drew wanted to laugh at the exchange, but the set of Magda's shoulders told him not to.
"This your boyfriend?"
"This is only our first date—well, unless you count yesterday. Can we count that?" Drew asked Magda. "You know, at the beach?"
"Oh, no we can't count that. I was unconscious most of the time."
There was scattered laughter.
"What's your name, honey?"
"Magda," she enunciated clearly.
"And your date?"
"You're a big, jacked guy. What you do for a living, Drew?"
"You had to think about that? How hard is it to say lifeguard? Duh! So, are the chicks all built like Baywatch babes?"
"Most of the guards on this beach are built more like me."
"Shit, that's some ugly women!"
"He means they're guys, moron," another customer heckled.
"I knew dat—," the comedian said loudly. "So, Drew, the um—lifeguard. How'd you meet?"
"I rescued her."
"Huh? I would have loved to see that. Blond Bomber going after Russian Red. Must have been a sight to see. Where you from, um—Lifeguard?"
"Grew up around here, Funny Boy. You?"
"Jersey." He held his arms out waiting for the cheers. There weren't any. "You know what we call folks from Florida up in Jersey? Crackers. Bam!" He said it like it was the worst insult in the world.
A huge man who'd been on the football team in high school, stood up nearly knocking over his table. "You know what we Crackers call you folks from Jersey?"
The comedian looked rather intimidated. "Uh—uh—."
"Lunch!" He came at the stage like The Terminator.
The comedian dropped the microphone with an electronic squeal and ran from the stage toward the accordion doors separating them from the restaurant. The Terminator didn't change direction. He went to the stage, picked up the microphone, pointing to the comedian who had finally opened the doors. Watching his retreating back, he held out his hand.
"Let's hear a round of applause for our entertainment for this evening."
Everyone clapped and cheered for him instead of the comedian. Eating up the attention, he held the stage a few minutes, talking to them. He made Drew come up and introduce himself. Talking like a reporter, he held the microphone between them.
"Mr. Carlson," he began.
They nodded in unison setting the room laughing when they did a knuckle bump.
"You said a few minutes ago that you rescued this lovely, seductive, Russian beauty from the ocean?"
"Actually, she's Georgian."
"She's from Georgia?" His voice rose to an irreverent squawk as he pointed north.
"Not the state to the north. The one near Russia."
"Ooh, dat Georgia. Gotcha. Tell us the tale. Inquiring minds wanna know. And we got inquiring minds."
The audience cheered, clapped and stomped their feet. Drew blushed slightly, taking the proffered microphone.
"Hi, y'all. Not much to tell, really. I was at work yesterday and saw something in the water. I called for backup, jumped in and found Magda there with a head wound. I pulled her to the boat and she's fine." He shrugged. He'd never been much for speaking in public, preferring not to draw attention to himself.
"That was terrible," Trey Simmons shoved him lightly, nearly knocking him over.
"I agree." Magda rose gracefully from her seat. "I tell it."
Trey helped her on the stage, handing her the microphone as he stepped back. Drew, unsure of himself, tried to do the same. Magda grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him back beside her.
"Is good story. I tell. Yesterday is still a bit fuzzy." She gestured languidly. "I am knocked in the head. Was not his fault." She pointed at Drew. "I was diving and was hit on head here." She showed the stitches. The room exploded in stifled gasps.
"Is fine, no longer hurts. But in these waters, bleeding? I had moments only. I find myself on surface, floating, dizzy, in pain. I was too weak to call for help and fell unconscious. Suddenly, I feel strong arms around me, and this comforting voice say, Are you alright? I am unable to answer. The arms go around me so." She demonstrated the hold on Drew, her arms barely going around his chest. "Only his arms are longer and I am not so big and strong."
Magda felt his muscles through the lightweight shirt. Liking what she found, she ran her hands over his upper body, dropping her fingers lower with each pass. Drew was in agony. Her long fingers left tiny trails of sparks in their wake. Her hand moved to his shoulder, going down his back with lingering slowness, dropping to his ass, which she grabbed. The women in the room went wild, stomping and cheering. They stood at their tables, swinging their napkins as they hooted and danced.
"Yes, most delicious. Unfortunately, I was like this." She demonstrated by putting his arms around her, letting her head loll to the side. "They take me on boat and I am not breathing. This the man in ambulance tell me. And Drew brought me back to life! He is miracle man, no? He is not just gorgeous body with beautiful eyes and hair...."
She licked her lips, eyes stripping him naked as they raked him up and down. She inhaled slowly, exhaling in a low, moaning gasp. "Is magnificent!" She walked to the front of the stage, talking to the women in a stage whisper. "And girls, is not a hammer in his pocket!" She winked expansively, making thrusting motions with her hips.
© 2016 Dellani Oakes
What is your story? What makes you think there is one? Who are you? Colonel Wilhelm VanLipsig, Galactic Marines, retired ...
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