Emilio Stabbed WHERE with WHAT?!đłđ€Ș
Turns out tequila worms donât belong there and Emilio learns the hard way.
Happy Tuesday!
This newsletter comes to you poolside from my backyard. I'm blessed to have one, especially with the August heat that feels like a mix of hell and incineration. September has been slightly, and I mean slightly, cooler, with this weekend's temps hitting 96 degrees. We're in fall baseball now. That means only five tournaments across three months versus 7 in eight weeks like we did in the summer. However, this won the championship this weekend! I'll pop that picture below.
That means, more book writing is coming your way faster now that the children's schedules are a bit back to normal and less chaotic. Yay!!!
Twisted Throttle is heating up! Yesterday, I was debating how spicy to make the first scene. With Em battling logistic problems (you'll soon find out why), I had to decide if all three play together or if a brother starts and the other joins in later. SUPER HARD decisions have to be made here. đ€Ł
Anyway, if you've read Whiskey Throttle, you know I always include the first chapter of the next book in the back so that you can get a sneak peek of the chaos in store for you. The chaos kings are no different, with Emilio seeing the worm from a tequila bottle swimming in his balls and doing something about it. And yes, it might involve a cocktail fork...
Anyway, they have been fun and funny to write. Emilio says precisely what he thinks. That's it! In the mind, out of the mouth. It's been laugh-out-loud sometimes with him. Of course, he always complains and whines, but there isn't a mean bone in his body, not really.
I'm also participating in an anthology with eight authors and am thinking of writing it as a pitch black dark romance. What do you think? Return to my roots? A new origin story? Just let me know, since that's what's coming up next, but it will be short, like 40K words.
Until next time, donât do anything I wouldnât do, but if you do . . . BURN IT DOWN BABE đ„
đïž EM HAS A MALE NURSE...HE HATES IT đ€Șđ€Ș
BOOK EXCERPT
(unedited)
âMas!â Em yells from the hall, snapping me out of my thoughts after taking a piss. âTell Ryan Iâm gonna die if I take another step.â
Ryan grins, cruel bastard. âIf you can yell, you can walk.â
âWhat Ryan says.â
âI fucking hate you both.â
He staggers into the living room, sweating like he ran a marathon. Crutches wobbling, robe flapping, and dick out like we want to see that shit. He collapses onto the couch with a dramatic groan and throws his head back like a reality show chick.
âCover your junk. Ryan doesnât need to see that. He finally doesnât have to wash it anymore. Give him a break.â
âFuck you, Mas. Ryan loves my shit. Almost as much as I do.â
Ryan and I exchange looks. Dudeâs not gay. Not even bi. I doubt he wants to see my brotherâs shriveled up dick.
âPretty sure he doesnât. Heâs just glad he doesnât have to wipe your ass anymore.â
Em tries to twist around in his seat to look at me, cusses, and then gives up. His middle finger shoots straight up in the air before catching the cold bottle of water Ryan tosses at him.
âGood job.â
âDonât patronize me.â Em takes a swig anyway. âI need McDonaldâs, a hot Victoriaâs Secret model as my nurse, and her tits hanging in my face while she gives me a sponge bath. Not fucking Ryan.â
I shake my head, set my shaker bottle down, and check the clock. Almost time. Sofiaâs shift ends in twenty minutes, and Iâll be there waiting like always. Sheâll slide in, tired but smiling, those hoops swaying. Sheâll touch my arm without thinking, and Iâll want to drag her into my lap right there in the parking lot.
đïž BIKERS OF BOSTON SERIES â€ïžâđ„
MAKE SURE YOU'RE CAUGHT UP ON THE SERIES BEFORE THIS FINAL BOOK COMES OUT. THEY ARE SO INTERCONNECTED, YOU'LL LOVE THIS BAND OF COLLEGE BIKER BROTHERS.
đ€ HAVE YOU PICKED UP THIS FREE FIRST BOOK IN MY DARK SERIESđ„
OPENING SCENE
I hate Denver.
This city killed my dad. Medically airlifted here and left to die. This fucking city is dead to me, like him.
âWhat do you want?â he demands, rude as hell.
His face appears on a screen mounted next to the doorbell.
Irritated, my fingers curl over the edge of the box holding his belongings. Itâs all the crap he left at my best friendâs house, which I offered to burn in a barrel behind my garage. She couldnât do it, or rather wouldnât let me do it. Now Iâm here, in Denver, two hours from my home, returning all his shit.
âOpen the door.â
I try the handle, not afraid to barge into his steel and glass museum of a house, but the doorâs locked. Figures. I bang on it with my fist, intending on making as much racket as possible to get his ass down here to open the damn thing.
âNo solicitors,â he barks and points into the screen.
My gaze flickers to an engraved gold sign mounted beneath the doorbell. I donât give a shit. I know why Iâm here, and soliciting isnât it.
âOpen the door, or Iâll carve my name on it.â
I fish out my keys, giving him about two seconds to do it before I etch a line down the expensive wood.
âOh, this is nice. Very smooth.â
âWhat are you doing?â he yells.
The screen goes blank as footsteps thunder toward the door. It flies open when I start on the curved line of the D. The first letter of my name.
His dark brown eyes are blown out. His mouth gapes, showing off his perfect white teeth, and astonishment coats his face while his finger traces the deep grooves. Taking advantage of his temporary lapse in judgment, I brush past him to enter the glass house.
âYou should get that fixed,â I toss over my shoulder because Iâm certain he has a butler or handyman who will sand out my initial with no problem.
My eyeballs canât decide what to look at first. Itâs all super modern, with white furniture everywhere.
Some crazy-looking statues are stuffed into cutouts in the wall, and weird abstract art hangs in enormous displays beside each other.
âWhatâs that supposed to be?â
I tilt my head as I gaze at one. A child could have done better finger paintings.
âWho are you? And why are you in my house?â
âŸïž PROUD MOMMA MOMENTđ
ïžHow great is this! After playing all weekend in the blazing heat and against teams a year/grade above them, they clinched the championship! My baseball player is second from the left. The one not smiling. He's never been a fan of picture taking. đ€Ł
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