Tuesday, August 22, 2017

I Love Dialogue from The Kahlea by Dellani

Dr. Stan has used a psychic connection on Captain Hank Connor. The effects should only last a few hours, but weeks later, they still can read one another's emotions and thoughts. It's disconcerting, to say the least.

"What are you thinking about?" Hank blurted out.
Stan looked guiltily at the major source of his annoyance, the man who was becoming a friend despite his personality glitches. "Nothing."
"Liar. You spent too much time in my mind, Doc. I can sometimes guess what you're thinking." Hank spoke harshly, tapping his temple adamantly. "Believe me, it's as disconcerting for me as it is for you."
Stan frowned, squinting at Hank to see if he might be kidding, one look in the man's eyes told Stan he wasn't.
"Tell me what I'm thinking now." Stan's blue eyes bored into Hank's, unblinking, penetrating, he concentrated all his telepathic energy on one thought.
Hank recoiled, blushing furiously, hanging his head. "That's not right, Stan. Damn low a blow." He refused to look at the doctor for several minutes, wondering how the hell he'd seen what had been in the other man's mind—a picture of himself copulating like a marionette with Marine precision, while some unseen hand pulled his strings.
"Is that what you really think of me?" The hurt refused to be contained, his tone was closer to a whine than he would've liked.
Despite his age and having been a Marine for so many years, he still cared what someone, whose opinion he valued, thought of him. Any other schmoe, he wouldn't have minded, but Stan was different. They were connected, that link they shared at Committee Home Base had never really gone away. There were plenty of times that Hank still felt Stan in his mind and was sure that his own touched Stan's from time to time. He couldn't explain the connection. According to Stan, the process wasn't supposed to last more than a few hours.
"No. No, I'm just frustrated. We're all feeling the tension of the last few weeks. I apologize, it was really unforgivable, but I had to be sure."
Hank continued to look hurt and dubious. "Be sure of what? That I know you think I'm some damn mechanical puppet? Thanks a whole hell of a lot, Dr. Savolopis. If I want to feel my manhood shrink to nothing again I'll be sure to call you."
Connor rose to leave the room, still thinking in old fashioned terms, he got to the door before Stan could stop him. With a thought, Stan kept the doors to the ready room shut. Hank smacked his face painfully on them.
Rubbing his nose, Hank stopped, turning around slowly. "Adding injury to your insult now. Thank you. I don't think you broke it for me."
Stan walked over, felt the bone of Hank's nose with long, strong, practiced fingers.
"No, but I think you've a deviated septum. One too many bar fights." Stan smirked as Hank knocked his hand away. "You saw that though, right? Did you hear it?"
"Hear myself clicking like a wooden man? Yes, thanks. Now that I've been humiliated, I'd like to go."
"Hank, come on. Would you just get over it and think about what this means!"
"It means you think I'm a mindless puppet."
"No, Henry, it means you have telepathic powers we didn't know you had."
Connor sat stiffly in the seat Hecate provided for him. "I'm not telepathic." He shook his head disbelievingly.
"What other proof do you need? You're a receiver, a strong one too, if I'm any judge. Helen could tell us better, but barring her expert diagnosis, you'll have to take my word."
"How does this in any way pertain to the conversation we were trying to have earlier?"
"It doesn't, but it's important just the same."
Hank shrugged. "Except for giving me a headache and making me feel about as important as a mote of dust, I can't think of what. Not," he held up a restraining palm, "that I care. Just—don't explain."
Stan's lips parted, he thought better of it and closed his mouth.
"That was wrong, Stan," Hank said quietly, still not looking at the doctor. "It was wrong in so many ways and on so many different levels."
"I know." Stan lit a cigar and smoked without speaking for some time. "We're driving one another crazy."
"Ya think?" Rubbing his scalp through his short hair, Hank leaned elbows on knees, eyeing Stan conjecturally. "Sometimes I don't know if I like you, Old Man."
"I know. On occasion you hate me, now for instance."
Hank's lip twitched upward, eyes twinkling. "Naw, I just don't know what to make of you. One second you're all friendly, the next you make me feel insignificant. Takes a special individual to do that."
Stan laughed loudly. "It's a gift! If being completely irritating could be inbred, it must have come from my dad."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes


Coming Soon from Pennywise Press

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Lone Wolf by Dellani Oakes

Lone Wolf - sci-fi adventure at its best! The year is 3032 and mankind has expanded far beyond Earth’s galaxy. Matilda Dulac is a member of the Galactic Mining Guild. With her lover, Marc Slatterly, she works in a small mining ship in deep space. Their well ordered life if suddenly thrown into chaos when one miner arrives with a load of Trimagnite, a highly toxic liquid ore. Enter the Lone Wolf. Wil VanLipsig, known as the Lone Wolf, arrives to take the Trigmagnite off their hands. Is it a coincidence for him to show up on Marc’s ship years after Marc thought he’d killed Wil? Or is this the beginning of something far more insidious? The Lone Wolf is book in a new science fiction series by Dellani Oakes. Below is an excerpt from Lone Wolf. Wil has just arrived on the mining vessel where Matilda and Marc serve together. It's obvious fairly early on that something isn't right between the two men.
Marc opened the door to the docking bay. The other ship had attached and the airlock was pressurizing. As the door spiraled open, Matilda sensed a shudder pass through Marc. He raised his weapon, covering the entrance.
Slowly, with a casual air, a man entered the airlock. Nearly as tall as Marc, he was leaner of build. His curly, dark brown hair fell to his shoulders. He stood still while Rubee scanned his identification tag before releasing the force shield in front of him.
He wore a black eye patch over his left eye and a scar ran from his left temple to the corner of his lips. It was an old scar, worn and somewhat sunken. A slight stubble of beard shaded the lower half of his face, all but the scar line, leaving a pale crescent in the dark. His uncovered eye glittered, black and dangerous in his ruggedly handsome face. Holding his arms from his sides, he waited as Rubee scanned him for weapons. Finding none, she gave clearance for him to pass.
He stepped forward, lighting a dark, thin object. The pungent odor of a cheroot filled the confined space. Squinting past the smoke, he gazed into Marc's eyes. Marc's weapon remained pointed at the other man's head, his calm expression strangely predatory.
Their visitor sized Matilda up with a glance, dismissing her as non-threatening. He puffed on his cheroot thoughtfully. A crooked grin cracked his face in half, the scar pulling his left lip up at an odd angle.
"Marc, it's been a long time." He held out his hand.
Marc remained aloof, not taking his eyes off the visitor, lowering his weapon or acknowledging the proffered hand.
"Kind of a cold reception, isn't it?" His voice was rasping and low.
The smile was replaced by a slight frown, a hint of sadness in the obsidian eye. Then the same placid expression took its place. Nothing in Marc's face betrayed what he was thinking or feeling.
Marc spoke calmly. "Commander Dulac, please show Colonel VanLipsig to the lounge."
"Of course, sir." Looking puzzled, she did as he asked, feeling his eyes on her.
Marc followed, covering the man from the rear. When they had seated themselves, Matilda ordered three cups of joe from the synthunit. Marc kept his weapon out on his knee with his hand resting upon it.
The other fellow leaned back, seemingly unconcerned and at ease. Taking a sip of the joe, he grimaced, glancing down at his cup before matching his gaze with Marc's.
"I know we parted under difficult circumstances, but is this really necessary? I'm here to do a job, nothing more." He carefully kept his hands in plain view, moving slowly, talking with deliberate ease.
Marc looked at him blankly. "I thought you were dead, Wil."
VanLipsig nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You were sure you killed me." His voice was flat, toneless, unemotional. He shrugged casually, tilting his head to the left. "I got better." There was a flash of a chilling smile.
"The reports...."
"The reports of my death were greatly exaggerated," VanLipsig quipped, dark eye glittering mischievously.
Marc's fist dented the metal table with a furious blow. "Dammit, Wil! Can't you stay dead?"
VanLipsig threw back his head, laughing caustically. The laugh became a long, high-pitched, chilling howl. Matilda felt a shiver run through her to the very bone. She did her best not to show it, but a subtle shift of her bearing betrayed her. His gaze penetrated her soul, laying it bare, finding it wanting.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to the lady, Marc?"
"No."
Marc hid his anger, but Matilda knew he was furious. His attitude toward VanLipsig was puzzling. They seemed to have known one another for years, obviously parting on less than amicable terms. Though VanLipsig seemed to harbor no ill will, Marc certainly did.
"May I present myself, ma'am? I'm Colonel Wilhelm VanLipsig, also known as the Lone Wolf. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He attempted to look humble. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." His glance flicked to her nametag and insignia, dark eye lingering hungrily on her chest. "Commander Dulac." His mouth formed the words, enjoying the feel of the consonants on his tongue. He waited patiently for a response. Getting none, his eye locked with hers, curious, intrigued. "Do you speak?"
Matilda studied him quizzically, raising an eyebrow. "There seemed little to say."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes


This Lovely New Cover by Suzette Vaughn

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

I Love Dialogue from Poplar Mountain by Dellani

Dollie Belloit and her sister, Patty, are from the big city Up North. They have come to work at a small settlement school in Kentucky as the secretary and accountant. Dollie is sweet on Lucius Henry, a local man, who is also sweet on her. Both shy, they find it hard to communicate their interest. When Dollie asks Lucius to help her find boys to decorate the dining call for a party, he happily complies.

"Don't worry. I'll get them hopping," he assured her as they passed behind the clinic. "You head on up to the dining hall. I'll go by the boy's dormitory and see what I can do."
"Thanks, Lucius. You're a prince."
He bowed deeply, sweeping his hand behind him as if pushing back a cape. "Mine is but to serve, Your Highness."
Blushing, Dollie giggled nervously. She liked Lucius more than she wanted to admit. The boys back home had never interested her much, nor had they treated her like a grand lady. Lucius always gave her the feeling that she was the most important person in the world.
Lucius righted himself, stepping closer. "Do you have an escort to the play party tonight, Miss Dollie?" His voice deepened, growing husky.
"I—I don't."
"I'd be proud if you'd consider me your partner for the dancing."
"I'd be delighted, Lucius."
"Thank ye, Miss Dollie. You do me an honor."
"Just Dollie," she whispered, dropping a slight curtsey. Embarrassed at her boldness, she turned and ran the rest of the way to the dining hall.
Lucius watched her until she was a pastel blur. Turning his steps towards the boys' dormitory, he whistled a happy tune. Fond of the mountain tunes of his ancestors, he chose There Was An Old Woman. Soon, he was singing in a clear, ringing tenor, "There was an old woman in our town, in our town did dwell. She loved her husband dearly, but another man twice as well. Sing too-di-um, sing too-di-um, Whack fa-lal-the-day." He reached the end of the song when he got to the door of the boys' dorm.
Snatching up the first four boys he found, those who couldn't outrun him, he drove them like cattle over to the dining hall. They, of course, complained the entire way.
"Luke, you got no call," his younger cousin, Jed, whined.
"Y'all oughta helped Miss Dollie without being told. What would your mothers think, you making a lady work all on her lonesome?"
"She had to ask you," Jed pointed out rudely.
"But I didn't know she needed help, or I'd of been down here all ready."
"That's cause you're sweet on Miss Dollie," Jed teased.
Lucius cuffed his cousin. The teenage boy hopped ahead, teasing and chanting. He danced backward, sticking his tongue out until he fell over a tree root and sprawled on the ground.
"Teach you to keep a civil tongue," Lucius said as he helped him up.
"Shucks, I'm just telling the truth," Jed replied, sulkily.
The other boys filed into the dining hall. Lucius kept Jed back a moment.
"You don't ought to say things like that, Jed. What'd Miss Dollie think if she heard?"
"Well, ain't ya?"
Sixteen year old Jed saw deep into his soul. Lucius couldn't hide from him how he felt about Dollie. Blushing, he partially turned away.
"Don't have to say a word, cuz. Reckon I know that look. Didn't Jake look that way over Rachel Gibbons 'fore he popped the question?"
"Ain't poppin' nothin'," Lucius replied sullenly. "No way Dollie'd take a man like me serious."
"What's wrong with a man like you?" Jed could see the time to tease was over. "You're a hard worker, ain't ye? You've got a spot of land to build on...."
"I ain't been to college. I'm not a proper gent. I'm a poor farm boy from up the holler."
"You're more a gent than most citified men we ever met," Jed replied stolidly, punching his cousin good naturedly. "What you lack is confidence. You look at Miss Dollie sometime when she thinks you ain't, you'll see what I mean." Raising an eyebrow, he put his index finger beside his nose, giving Lucius a saucy salute.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Red River Radio Presents Dellan's Tea Time with Brownell, Eden & Jordan



Summer's coming to an end, but it's still hot and steamy with these gals around. This month, Dellani and Christina welcome erotic authors Brownell Landrum, Eden Walker and Jordan Monroe. Things are getting hot here on Tea Time, so break out the iced tea and a fan!

Tune in on Monday, August 14 from 4-6 PM Eastern for this fun filled show!




Brownell Landrum is the author of Fifty Shades Deeper, and the Duet series, as well as other sizzling stories. Welcome, Brownell!



Eden Walker is the author of One Night in Venice coming soon from Tirgearr Publishing. Hello, Eden!





Jordan Monroe is the author of One Night in Washington, Not Sorry and several erotic short stories. Hiya, Jordan!

All three ladies will share excerpts from their hot and sultry stories, so if you're easily offended, this is not the show for you. However, for those who like it hot, so be sure to tune in. (Language will still be PG13)


Thursday, August 10, 2017

Vile Villains from A Portrait of Love by Dellani

Gemma Reinhardt is a bit of a recluse. She's also worth several billion dollars, now that her parents are dead. She split the fortune with her horrid older brother, Henry, who seems determined that she won't marry. Now she's met Vik Windsor, that's likely to change. Henry finds out that Vik is staying there, recuperating after a fight. I have to admit – Vik is one of my favorite heroes.

The front door banged open and shut. Raised voices alerted her to a problem. Dropping her book, Gemma raced to the stairs. Henry paced the foyer, bellowing at Bernadette. She tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't stop yelling. James came in a few moments later, and kept Henry from advancing.
"This is my house!" her brother cried. "You can't keep me out!"
"Actually, it's my house," Gemma corrected as she dashed over to him. "And he most certainly can because I want him to. Why are you here?"
"Is it true you've got another one?"
"Another what?"
"Boyfriend!"
"I don't know what you mean," she evaded his question.
"Don't lie to me, Gem. I know there's a man staying here."
"How could you possibly know? Are you spying on me?"
"If I am, it's for your own good. You're too damn naïve to watch out for yourself. And your people are suck ups who don't know how to tell you no or control you."
"Control me? No one needs to control me, Henry. I'm a grown woman."
"You're like a little girl! You have no idea what this guy is all about. The first one is crazy and now you've got this one? Have you considered that he might be after your money? That he got his buddy to beat him up so you'd feel sorry for him?"
"It's not like that, Henry. They didn't know I was rich!"
"Ken knew after he was over here. It's pretty obvious when you live in a mansion, that there's money."
"So what! It's my house and my money. I can do what I want with it."
"Even if you're throwing it away on some loser?"
"Enough!" James bellowed. "You have no business here, Mr. Reinhardt. This is your sister's house and you're here on her suffrage. I suggest you leave before I call the security team."
"Oh, you suggest I leave? I suggest you stand aside and let me in my house."
"My house," Gemma repeated. "And I don't want you here."
"Excuse me," Dolores said from behind them. "But my patient is in this house and your noise is going to wake him, if it hasn't already. He's recovering from some serious injuries. You need to go," she told Henry pointedly.
"Oh, God forbid we wake him. What's he gonna do to me?"
"Beat your sorry ass," came Vik's voice from the balcony.
Henry looked up at Vik's battered body and laughed. "You? You're a scarecrow. You couldn't hurt me if you came at me with an army."
Vik's face remained calm. "Buddy, I could put the hurt on you one handed and blind. But since you're Gemma's only family and I'm a guest here, I'll let it slide. Don't make me come down there."
"Don't make me come down there," Henry mimicked. "Oh, I'm so scared. There's an ironclad pre-nup," he continued, pushing past Gemma as he advanced on Vik. "Even if you convince her to marry you, you can't unless you sign it. If you divorce, you leave with exactly what you had coming in. My father left nothing to chance." He climbed the stairs two at a time, walking up to Vik, trying to intimidate him.
Vik smiled, his split lip twitching upward at an odd angle. He didn't seem quite as feeble up close. Henry took a step back, but Vik moved into the other man's personal space, coming alarmingly near. He was quite intimidating; taller and bigger than he'd seemed from downstairs. Every time Henry moved back, Vik advanced.
"I don't want the money," Vik said. "I want Gemma. She could be poor and homeless, I'd still want her."
Gemma followed them up the stairs. Henry turned, taking a step toward her, his hand raising as if to strike her. Vik grabbed his arm, spinning him to face the balcony. Hanging over the edge, Henry realized how much stronger and faster Vik was than he. Even injured, Vik managed to pin Henry with very little effort.
"You need to leave now," Vik leaned over and whispered in Henry's ear. "You aren't welcome right now. Because you're her brother, I'm not going to pitch you over the railing. You come at her like that again, I can't be held responsible. Are we clear?"
"Yeah," Henry grunted.
"And do I really need to tell you I'm a black belt and I can take you apart one handed?"
"Nyeh," Henry replied, trying to catch his breath.
"Gemma, I'm sorry I pinned your brother to the banister," Vik said, still holding Henry against the railing. "Where do you want him?"
"Outside," Gemma replied. "But I think you've made your point. Hasn't he?" she asked her brother.
"I'm going," Henry gasped as Vik let him up. "But you haven't heard the last of this, Gem."
"Yes. I have. I'm a big girl, fully capable of making up my own mind. You need to go now, Henry."
Henry straightened his coat and tie. "I've got my eye on you," he said to Vik, pointing his index finger at him.
Vik smiled. It was rather like watching a shark bare its teeth before striking. The mirth didn't reach his eyes. He pointed to his own eyes, then jabbed a finger at Henry. Without a word, he went back to his room.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes


Tuesday, August 08, 2017

I Love Dialogue from Lord Roeder's Mine by Dellani

Lord Roeder's Mine is one of my sci-fi prequels. This story focuses on Matilda's father, Ed Dulac, chronicling some of the time between the destruction of Saltulle and his appearance on Guild Mining Ship The Flotilla.
Ed's had some weird experiences in Lord Roeder's Mine when he went to explore a large, unstable pocket of Trimagnite. Captain Tarvo is talking to him and he is deeply worried about Ed's behavior.

Tarvo looked worried as Ed continued to sway to the beat of music only he could hear.
"Ed." He waited while his friend continued to commune with the ore. "Ed!" His tone was sharp with warning.
Wayne Tarvo was worried now. Some people got taken that way. They were fine for a bit, then the Trim got in their blood. Not in any normal sense. Had Ed been exposed to even a drop of the semi-liquid, highly toxic ore, he'd already be in medical going rapidly out of his mind. This was strictly emotional, but just as dangerous. He tapped his comlink summoning a medical technician and security officers.
"You're getting a full check, Dulac. Don't make me force you."
Without offering any resistance, Ed followed the tech to the medical facility flanked by three guards each roughly the size of Kansas. He submitted to the battery of physical and psychological tests quietly, smiling and singing the entire time.
"Not a damn thing wrong, Captain Tarvo," the tech reported half an hour later.
"What's he acting like that for, then?"
"From what I could tell, the only thing out of place is a super elevated serotonin level."
"So, you're telling me that the best Trimagnite miner on my staff is whacked on happy hormones?" The Captain muttered, rubbing his balding pate with one hand while the other tapped irritably on his chair console.
"I wouldn't have said it that way," the technician looked a little miffed. He liked being precise. "But that's in effect what it amounts to."
"Thanks," The Captain signed off on the compact computer screen and handed the medical scanner to the tech. "Keep him monitored for twenty-four hours."
"Already done, sir. Doctor Macy took care of it personally. I think this has her spooked a bit too, sir. She's never seen anything like it."
"Thanks, Murphy. Good work." He dismissed the technician with a distracted nod.
Tarvo popped up a link to Ed's room, watching as his friend sat on the edge of his bunk, singing and smiling to himself. It was disturbing, unnatural. Whatever was happening to Ed Dulac could be contagious. Besides the tech, he was the only one directly exposed to him. Security had worn their stasuits. Making up his mind, he went to his ready room aft of the bridge, and called the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Eve Macy.
"Evie, I'm worried."
"I'm not yet, Wayne. Trimagnite's weird stuff. We've studied it for over a hundred years. Every time we think we have it locked down and figured out, it throws us a curve ball."
"Are you telling me this is Trim's next funky facet?"
"Who knows? All I'm saying is I'm not getting worried and upset until I have something to worry about. Do you really want me to lock down this facility for an epidemic? You know what they'll do to us if we halt production on a whim."
"I know, Evie. All right. Put me and anyone he's been in contact with under surveillance."
"Already done." She paused, assessing her Captain's mood. "Have you been watching him?"
"Hell yes. Weird shit, Eve."
"If he were violent, incoherent, I'd worry about exposure. I had his suit pulled and they are going over it now."
"Do we have anyone reviewing his scan?"
She shrugged. "It's in the queue for tomorrow, probably. As many techs as we have out there, they won't get to it yet."
"Let me know about the suit soonest. I'm putting someone on his scan immediately."
"I'll update you as soon as I hear on the suit. Try not to worry so much, Wayne." She smiled kindly, her eyes showing her love for him.
His smile reflected the same expression. "I'll do my best. See you at dinner." He clicked off, gnawing his left thumb knuckle absently. It was a nervous habit he'd tried to break for years. He'd have it licked until something wacko like this transpired.
"Dammit!"
© 2017 Dellani Oakes

Thursday, August 03, 2017

It Takes a Thief by Dellani Oakes


Jason Banes is a thief, a fact he freely admits. What he isn't, is a murderer. Unfortunately, when a job goes horribly wrong, he's arrested and on trial for robbery—and the murder of six innocent hostages. At first, he's reluctant to admit he had an accomplice, but eventually he tells the judge he was a victim as well. The perpetrator is a cold-hearted woman known only as Orchid. When the victims' families stand up for him, Jason is released into the custody of Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole, who heads up a team of FBI agents. Their job? To protect Jason and help him find Orchid before she strikes again.






Below is an excerpt from It Takes a Thief, a romantic suspense novel.

"How the hell did you get all that? When?" Taylor grabbed her lipgloss possessively.
"Moments ago. Don't worry, I'd never keep it." He blew her a kiss. "Not my color."
She swatted him, laughing.
"Handy tricks," Tim said. "What else can you do?"
"This stuff's easy," Jason said. "You should see me play cards." He winked. "Never, ever play a serious game of poker with me. I'll wipe you all out. I play for fun and to see what I can get away with. I'll show you what to look for."
They practiced another hour or so, but didn't make nearly the progress Jason wanted with his left hand.
"I'll get you back here with Lloyd," Tim said. "He's left handed and can give you some pointers. We'll set something up for later this week. Meanwhile, let's police the area. Leave it like we found it!"
They set up fresh targets, put away the safety gear and stowed everything where it had come from.
Greg took out the garbage and the rest of them cleaned up inside until the facility was as perfect as it had been before they used it.
"Thank you," Jason said, shaking Tim's hand. "I feel much better. Won't feel perfect until we catch Orchid, but at least I feel less of a target. Can I leave a note for your brother?"
"Sure." He found paper and a pen for Jason.
The was far longer than Tim anticipated. Glancing at it over Jason's shoulder, he laughed. The writing was tiny, precise and perfectly lined, although it was typing paper.
"What's all this?"
"He's got some security issues. I made a few suggestions. His safe for one. I could get through it with a pair of nail clippers and a set of tweezers."
Tim laughed, shaking his head. "You're kidding!"
"Serious. I'd open it, but that'd be bad manners."
"I'm not sure how much he'll appreciate this," Tim said glumly.
"He'll appreciate it. Might piss him off a bit, but I'll bet he fixes it up. Leave it in the cash register." He thumped it with his fist and the drawer popped open. "That's number two after the safe." He winked, strutting after Greg to the SUV. He hopped in the back and Alex slid in after him
"Cocky, English bastard," Tim said, laughing. He put the note to his brother in the cash register and closed the drawer. "Wonder if I should warn him that it's there?" He asked Taylor
"It will make more impact if he sees it on his own," she replied.
"Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."
They talked about their day as they drove back to Jason's house by a different route. It took longer than Jason anticipated, but he figured Tim was mixing it up some in case they were being followed.
There were more vehicles in his driveway and several people moved around looking important. They were armed technicians, checking his house. Instead of staying around in their way, he and the team went upstairs. There too, they found a great deal of activity.
"Fancy a game of bowling?" Jason asked casually. "Gets us out of the way. Or perhaps some poker?"
"I want to learn how to lift Taylor's lipgloss," Greg said with a chuckle.
"Got to find it first," she said with a smirk. "I moved it."
"Yeah?" Jason said. "Nice spot. Easy." He held it up again.
Taylor snatched at it, face flushing as she tried not to laugh. "Oh, you bad man! How did you know?"
"Women have a tendency to use purses, pockets or bras. You're not carrying a purse, it wasn't in your pocket...." He smirked, handing it back to her. "I prefer that hiding place," he said, eyeing her chest. "More of a challenge."
"I should beat you for that," she snarled. However, she couldn't hide her smile.
"You could do. But I might enjoy it."
"Enough!" Greg said loudly. "Forget I said anything."
He was angry, jealous and the exchange had made him realize once more how attracted he still was to Taylor himself. He'd been that close to her breasts once or twice, but not lately.
"Sorry, mate. I forget there's other blokes as hard up as me." He winked at Greg.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes

Tuesday, August 01, 2017

I Love Dialogue - Meet Big Earl from Bet on Love by Dellani

I recently had the lovely Danielle Zwissler on Dellani's Tea Time. We were talking about naming characters and she said she'd never named one after her husband, because he claimed that Earl wasn't a sexy name and all characters named Earl were always dumb, rednecks. So, of course, to refute that, I told her about my character, Earl Duchamps. He calls himself Big Earl – and he is both physically and in personality. He's also very intelligent, though he likes to act like a dumb redneck when it suits him. He's also dead sexy.
Gina is involved with Earl's cousin, Zane. When Earl finds out that Zane is a suspect in his ex-wife's murder, he drops everything and flies down with a lawyer in tow.

Even if she hadn't known, she'd have been able to tell that Earl was kin to Zane. Slightly shorter and stockier, he was nearly identical in looks. He had the same dark, wavy hair, penetrating eyes and smokin' hot good looks of his cousin. Had she not already fallen for Zane, she would have found him completely irresistible.
The man with him was considerably older. Tall, lean and tanned, he looked more like a rancher than a lawyer. His close cropped hair was steely gray, his eyes virtually the same color. Whereas Earl was dressed in relaxed fit blue jeans, boots and a T-shirt, the older man was dressed in a dark three piece suit and tie. He looked like he had just stepped out of Neiman – Marcus.
Gina waved when she got to the top of the escalator, smiling as she walked over. Earl was up in a flash, trotting over to her. He took her in a huge bear hug, kissing her cheek.
"Hey, Gina. Well, you didn't say you were beautiful over the phone! Dad blame, girl, my cousin is one lucky some-bitch! Set down, baby. Let's have some breakfast."
"I know a better place and they don't charge for parking. Do you have bags?"
"Just what's with us. I didn't give Bobby time to pack much. Auntie had all my uncle's clothing still. It's a tad outta date, but it'll fit Bobby pretty well. That's if he don't wanna go shoppin'." He laughed, punching Bobby in the shoulder.
"Robert Coulton." The older man came forward, extending his hand to Gina.
When she took it, he kissed her fingers delicately, smiling past her knuckles. "Please call me Robert. Delighted to meet you, Miss Gina." He didn't sound Southern, he sounded British.
"And I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Zane could be in a lot of trouble."
"So I hear. Tell me all you know about the situation."
She led them out of the airport to the parking lot. Gina realized she didn't have her sunglasses, but Zane had a pair in the car which fit her fairly well. Slipping them on, she backed out of the parking place and headed to the gate. As they drove to International Speedway Boulevard, she told Robert and Earl what she knew.
"That's all I overheard," she concluded. "Not much at all, I'm afraid."
"And Zane didn't come back or call last night?"
"No. They can hold him for awhile, right?" she glanced at Robert.
"Yes. They can hold him for questioning for up to twenty-four hours before they charge him. Then they either book him or let him go. Depending upon circumstances, it could go either way."
"I think they are liking him way too much for this murder," Gina said quietly. "Don't they always look at the spouse first? Or ex-spouse in this case?"
"Indeed," Robert nodded. "Often the cliché is the right answer. Other times, it's not. I can't believe Zane capable of killing. Not even after what she did to him."
"Nope," Earl agreed. "Zane's got a temper to him, but he ain't a violent man. He'd more likely put his fist through the wall than he would hurt another person, particularly a woman."
They pulled up at Biscuits. Gina had driven there without really intending to, but she needed someplace familiar and welcoming. The three of them got a table in Kitty's section and waited for her to bring coffee. Kitty was much more subdued than she had been yesterday. Gina could tell she was curious about the men, but didn't want to seem too nosy.
"Where's tall, dark and sexy?" Kitty asked as she poured their coffee.
"Ran into some trouble," Gina said quietly. "This is Earl, Zane's cousin. And Robert, his lawyer. Gentlemen, my friend Kitty."
Both men stood when they were introduced. Kitty smiled, blushing slightly."Delighted to meet you, little lady. Big Earl Du Champs. Zane's cousin on his mama's side." He took her hand, holding it gently in both of his as he gazed into her eyes.
Gina could see that Earl might be louder and less polished than Zane, but he was no less handsome, delicious and charming. Kitty virtually melted. Robert kissed her hand and she almost fainted. Fanning herself, she took their order to the kitchen.
"She's a pretty thing," Earl said, staring after her.
"She's got a boyfriend."
"Hell, that don't make a difference unless he's got a ring on her finger and a foot in the door."
"He's got the foot in the door." Gina grinned at him over her coffee cup. "And other parts of him—other places."
Earl chuckled as Robert smirked. Gina's giggle made them both laugh.
"Well, can't win 'em all, huh?"
"I don't imagine you're hurting for female companionship," Gina teased.
"Well now, you'd be right there. I'm not. But it don't hurt none to spread the joy does it?"
"Depends upon what you use to spread it," Robert remarked candidly.
Earl's laugh was contagious. The three of them were still laughing when Kitty came back out with their food. She plopped in the booth next to Robert.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes

I Love Dialogue from The Kahlea by Dellani

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