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Leave a CommentI wanna go home but it’s not there anymore.
The place I lived has been broken by the storm.
I dream in color, the beast at the front door.
I hold it shut, but he comes across the floor.
I can’t sleep, damn you.
I can’t eat, damn you.
And my nights go on forever.
I’ve wandered on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That I can’t go home again. No, I can’t go there again.
I wanna be whole, but am scattered by the wind
I should be strong by now but you have done me in.
My nights are laced with times that should’ve been.
My days go forth, I fight, but will I win?
I can’t work, damn you.
I can’t live, I hate you.
And my days go on forever.
I wander on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That you can’t be home again. No, I can’t be there again.
The cuts you made have healed a thousand times over.
The wounds still bleed perhaps now and forever.
But I still cry, damn you.
And you can’t die, damn you.
Because just one more time
I want you to want me
to come home again.
“The greatest discovery of all time is that a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude.” ~Oprah Winfrey
“Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.” ~ Groucho Marx
“Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi
And yet we make bestsellers out of romances where the heroine is weak, submissive, and dominated. We may spend seven hours a week, reading, and dreaming in this mindset. WHY?
If you re-read the quotes above and think about it, you might ask yourself, ‘How does this manifest itself into my daily life?’ Am I sabotaging myself?
I believe the answer is a resounding ‘YES!’
I write about alpha males, because, lord help me, I love them. They make great characters.
I write in sex, too, because, to me, sex is a natural part of a relationship. It is not evil or bad.
My heroine is just as strong as the hero, in her own way. She has to work at finding a healthy relationship.
That part of my fiction is like real life.
I had a lot of emotional baggage to deal with, from childhood and yet have been shown ways to overcome. Part of why I write is that I want to share that with you.
I want to give back.
When you finish one of my books, my heart’s desire, is for you to be overflowing with hope, and promise, and ready to work for the happily-ever-after you so truly deserve.
Sending love always,
Stella
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Leave a CommentWARNING: Post contains mature themes, steamy, sexual scenes and graphic language.
Power coiled through him. Roughly, he hauled her to the bed. Her back met the mattress and he positioned himself above her. He spread her thighs wider with his knees. She curled her hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles clench and tighten under her palms.
He stilled above her. The thick head of his cock nudged the swollen folds.
Amidst the addictive hunger, there was something more. Something Zoe didn’t want to speculate on. For a moment, apprehension edged at her arousal.
“Say it, Zoe. Say you’re mine.”
It was a claiming.
He was claiming her.
And she desperately wanted to belong.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
He thrust into her, working himself deeper, his gaze locked with hers. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter. He eased back, then pushed inside her again, slowly, deeply. He filled her perfectly.
“Mine,” he growled. “My mate.”
“Yes.” She was fighting to breathe. Fighting to make sense of the sensations tearing through her.
His hips jerked hard, burying himself inside of her.
“You need to say it back to me, angel.”
“My mate,” she whimpered, feeling a new surge of energy pulsating through her body. A brilliant array of color, pleasure, sensations vibrated through her. For a brief, intense moment, she felt as if her body and soul merged with his, and her senses exploded with the pleasure of it.
His cock throbbed inside her, thick and hard, stretching the sensitive tissue. Electric pulses began to race through her body. Jack’s jaw clenched, fighting for control. He pulled back, then slammed in, harder, deeper. Impaling her with swift, hard strokes.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and gasped. Her vision darkened as she cried out with her release. The pleasure broke her. Every neuron in her body seemed to explode in ecstasy.
The vortex burst sending violent waves of energy ricocheting off the walls. She heard Jack’s shout, felt the overpowering pleasure of his release pulsating inside her.
Closing her eyes, Zoe held onto him and knew nothing would ever be the same again.
She was lost to him.
Leave a CommentI killed off my coworker, today.
Yup. I threw him out a porthole window, the ship’s propeller sucked him in and shot him out as shark bait.
God, what a catharsis. It was GREAT!
I laughed so hard.
My hero in the book said, “Oops.”
The heroine gave him a high-five.
Poor Mohammad, evil terrorist.
In real life, he’s just a pain-in-the-ass project manager and misogynist.
Writing is therapy.
Yup.
I think I’ll kill off another project member this week.
I shall write her as a real witch, who is working with a dark lord to destroy the world.
She’ll have to die a terrible death, don’t you think?
In real life? She made it a point to be abusive and condescending on a phone call.
In that she works for a multi-million dollar partner, I bit my tongue.
I wrote her into my next book, during that call.
Bwa ha haaaa.
If they only knew.
I write fiction.
It is my therapy.
It is my joy.
It is my escape.
A young man left the gym today and made it a point of removing his shirt for all to see.
Guess I’ll write in those biceps, and tattoos, as well.
And my fears, and my tears.
And my emotional issues.
And share myself with you.
You know me from my writing.
Funny you should ask!
Chantel and I are having a release party and I would like to invite you, personally. Please click that you are coming!
https://www.facebook.com/events/1093679247343288/
Now that you’ve done that, let’s talk about a Facebook Event.
It’s merely a way to tell your friends and family that there is something important going on. It’s easy to do. Just make a start date and an end date.
How does that differ from a Facebook Party?
At a party, people come to visit, right?
However, unlike a REAL party, it isn’t rude to jump in, say a few words, or enter a contest, and leave.
So, at a Facebook Party, people come to visit the URL of the event. They might play a game, click like, enter a raffle, or post something on the timeline.
Our release party is going to be ‘hosted’ by different authors over the course of one day. This is a lot of fun. There are games and prizes and clever folks. Sometimes its fun just to watch the melee.
We have hired ‘help’ with our party. (In the real world, consider this like hiring a caterer.)
I highly recommend this site below. She helps get us hosts, and sets up the event for us.
https://www.facebook.com/LikeABossBookPromotions/
If you have any questions, leave a comment!
I LOVE to hear from people!
Please let us know, too, if you’d like an ARC to give a review!
(ARC? Advance Review Copy)
Chantel and I are hoping to sell 200 ebooks in pre-sale.
If you want to help us get there, it’s just ONE DOLLAR!
http://a-fwd.com/asin=B01BBHP4DS
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