the rest of the prologue for Quit Happens by Jeanie and Jayha

all rights reserved.  Copyright 2013 by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

There weren’t any official first families, but the Sawyer family, the Maree family, and the Joyance family, were as close as you could get.  They were tight from way back.  You messed with one of them, you got shit from all of them.  They went to church together, hunted together, and they were in business together.  SMJ Mechanics and Towing was the name the residents in a sixty-mile radius turned to when their mechanics malfunctioned or stopped functioning altogether. Through the years, the families had expanded the business and now SMJ Towing was a household name up and down the entirety of the Southeast. Nobody wielded a wrench like them boys over at SMJ Towing.  And few men looked better wielding tools.  If it was broke, they could fix it. If it wasn’t broke, they could fix it ’til it was. 

Expanding the business meant that their progeny went to college instead of to the factories, tobacco fields, and hog farms that dotted the area.  Most of the SMJ Clan stayed close to home and attended Mount Olive College, St. Andrews University, or UNC-Wilmington, but the current generation had decided to spread their wings and thus went to colleges in the piedmont and mountain regions of the state. Others even were so bold as to go out of state.  They didn’t necessarily select colleges for their academics; they selected colleges according to where their football program ranked.  And if there was one thing the SMJ Clan appreciated more than a good meal, it was football.

Pluck Brevard, Ozella Crown, Shelley Nichols, Simone Pisgah and Esther Prynne were women who should never drink and plot because when they did, chaos happened.  Really, it was Ozella’s fault because her family owned a vineyard and an estate with an endless wine cellar.  North Carolina wasn’t just basketball country, it was now wine country, boasting 400 vineyards and 100 wineries.  It was fitting as America’s first grape was grown in the Tar Heel State way back in the day.  Now, North Carolina was the one place where every major variety of grape was grown. 

If not for wine, it wouldn’t be possible for them to drink and plot because they wouldn’t have access to free, quality wine.  In theory, they could’ve drunk cheap wine but drinking cheap wine with expensive chocolate while wearing Italian shoes was simply gauche.  Regardless of the fact that their sense of daring and their lack of filters might’ve had a lot to do with their shenanigans, they blamed it on the wine mostly because they could.  Plus, blaming it on the wine sounded a lot more sophisticated than blaming it on grain alcohol since wine didn’t double as fuel or a solvent, unlike liquid grain. 

It was a burgundy that was responsible for them trekking off to the University of Colorado for graduate school because they were hell bent on learning to snowboard and the slopes around Boulder were bigger than those in Boone.  It was a sauvignon blanc that was responsible for them being the founding members of Rho Beta Omicron Tau, thusly named because they didn’t think their university would approve a sorority called Ridiculously Big Old Titties and R.B.O.T. looked much more legit in the Greek alphabet.  Using the Greek letters was so much more refined.  And if they were anything, they were refined…even when they were dumping a truckload of elephant shit in the bed of someone’s truck while they were making out with some other chick that wasn’t you.  What said refined like watching your best friend laugh for the first time in weeks after watching her cheating, lying scumbag of an ex almost-boyfriend try to explain to his jumpoff that it wasn’t his fault? 

Now back to the wine.  It was a Riesling that was responsible for them being in the city of Pleasanton.  Since Rho Beta Omicron Tau wasn’t formally recognized by any of the Greek councils, they were on a cross-country recruiting trip to give their sorority visibility.  They could do that sort of thing since they were all their own bosses, which was fun for them and the safest bet for the world in general. 

Her spot, Quit Happens, was the place to go when you were quitting something (your job, your significant other) and had to have just the right words to say ‘kiss my ass’ to fit the context.  Split Happens was the place to go when you couldn’t just quit somebody because you had the hare-brained idea to marry them.  Simone would pat you on the back, give you some tissues and then ask if you wanted most of the marital assets plus his or her ass or all of the assets. Shelley owned Lit Happens, which was where you went when you wanted to write a book about your pain and suffering…or do something simple such as take out a billboard on I-95 and blast to the world what a douchebag your ex was.  Shelley was creative like that, which is why she was also the organizer of one of the world’s major cons.  Esther owned Fit Happens, which was fitting being she had the perfect body for it meaning she was all sculpted lines with just the right amount of curves.  Fit Happens was the place to go when you wanted to get bootylicious to the max and make your ex sorry they’d ever done you wrong.  Submit Happens was Ozella’s place.  Contrary to what it sounded like, it wasn’t a place you went when you needed someone to make you their bitch.  It had something to do with the wine business.  However, since Ozella didn’t have faith in the reading ability of the general public, she didn’t name it Barrique Happens, which was a good thing because listening to southerners massacre the French word wasn’t good for anybody anywhere.

Anyway, the bottom line was that they owned their own shit. Pause for a round of celebratory bootie dancing or a bout of shoe shopping.  And of course, wine.   

Bear Necessities...a taste

 

**blurb**

Some people could cook; some could cook well; Chef Nevena Nolan could flat out burn.  While she’d graduated from one of the top culinary schools in the world, her grandmomma had taught her how to cook; school had taught her how to play the game.

 

She minded her own business, stayed out of shit, and kept her opinions to herself as she worked her way up through the French brigade system.  Her station was spotless, her dishes had the southern grandmomma seal of approval.  She never mixed business with pleasure.  Of course, she’d never been tempted to…until she bumped into an Italian chef who knew his chocolate, his wine and his way to a woman’s heart. 

 

On a sabbatical from his executive chef position in one of Europe’s finest restaurants, he gave her plus size curves a second, third, fourth and fifth glance, gave her taste buds an adventure, and gave her hope that women like her could get HEAs.  After he’d gotten what he wanted, he left her with a broken heart, a ruined reputation and a baby.

 

Down, but not out, Nevena kept her head up, took her apprentice chef, and kept it moving.  When she’d healed enough on the inside, she and her best friend bum-rushed their way into one of Atlanta’s hottest restaurants and won over its owner.

 

Winning over the crowd of regulars who all seemed to have “aire” describing their net worth, they called her on her shit but they treated her like she was family.  Knowing she had to spread her wings, they sent samples of her food to the owners of an upscale resort in Alaska. 

 

Once in Alaska, she discovered another group of people who considered her family, her complete ignorance about wildlife, and a man who made her heart beat in triple time.  She knew she could love him.  Her daughter did love him and her best friend encouraged her to jump on him and ride him into another Ice Age.

 

Sheriff Dominic Kenai was an Alaskan grizzly shifter.  He was also the law in Arcticus, Alaska.  If you didn’t count what he did to people who fucked with his territory, there was zero point zero crime.  Despite the new resort going up and the increasing number of tourists coming in, he was determined to keep that record intact. 

 

An alpha male with simple tastes, all he wanted was good coffee, peace and quiet, and a willing woman every now and then.  And then he met Nevena and his bear went crazy.  Determined to win her over, he took his time so that she could heal.  He’d show her that he wasn’t like other men; he was better.  He had the whole territory in his corner, along with Nevena’s daughter, her best friend and her brother.  Now all he had to do was prove to her that loving him wasn’t a mistake.

 

 

 

**excerpt**

Flashing the two bricks of kuugiaq at Antarctica to add to his tab, Dominic was about to exit when the dulcet voice of a human woman stopped him cold.  Of its own will, his body made its way to that voice, curious about the woman it belonged to.  Being a local store as opposed to a supermarket, Dominic didn’t have to hunt long to locate her and when he did all he could do was thank the Creator.  A big male, he appreciated a big female and there was a whole lot to appreciate on this woman—both up and across…and front and back.

The woman was on the other side of six feet and two hundred pounds.   Of course, he didn’t get to see as much of the ‘whole lot’ as the woman was bundled up pretty good.  Still, that didn’t stop him from undressing her with his eyes.  She had mocha skin that was without blemish, sparkling eyes, kissable lips, and had an afro that proclaimed pride.  All he could think was that her African ancestry and his Alutiiq ancestry would look good combined in their offspring.  He wasn’t being a bragging bastard, he was simply using logic.  Considering how cute her cub was who didn’t have his genes, there was no way the children they had together could be anything less than stunning.  

Dominic damned the cold weather that made it necessary for her to wear so much.  Next, he damned the laws that made it necessary for her to wear clothes at all as he wanted to see her on her back, against any flat surface, on her front…wearing nothing but him, his scent, and a look of adoration.  While he could’ve spent all day looking at that woman, the tinkling laugh of a child drew his attention.

Dominic didn’t need shifter senses to know that the little girl belonged to her.  Everything about the way they interacted proclaimed it louder than any words ever could.   This woman was danger to anything that made the mistake of thinking it was going to threaten her cub.  Ms. ‘She Would Look So Good Draped on Top of Me’ might be human, but something told Dom that she had a lot of bear ways about her.

…

Dom took a deep breath filled with a mouthwatering scent and turned to face the woman who was going to be his. Oh, Creator.  His soon-to-be mate was tempting a half a store away.  Up close she was absolutely stunning. 

All woman, she held her ground like she was seven feet tall and three hundred pounds.   He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that even if she matched those stats, he was still bigger.   His bear rumbled in his chest acknowledging her scent, which was more of a turn on than anything he’d ever scented.  Not a hint of male was on her letting Dom know she was available.  Good, he wouldn’t have to kill anyone.  If her cub hadn’t been with her, Dominic would’ve spread her out on the checkout and buried himself deep in her body. 

“Why are you looking at my mommy like that?” her cub asked.

“Because she’s beautiful,” Dominic answered truthfully.

…

Taking a step closer, he looked in Nevena’s eyes and introduced himself properly. 

“I’m most pleased to meet you,” he damn near purred.

“Pleased to meet you too,” Nevena said after catching her breath.

Oh, you most definitely will be pleased, he thought.  Dominic couldn’t help but smile upon hearing that catch in her voice and scenting the faint trace of her interest.  It was a damn good thing she wanted him because she was his the moment he laid eyes on her.  Now all he had to do was convince her.  Of that, Dominic had no doubt as he excelled at many things and getting his way was at the top of that list.

Tiny Taste of Quit Happens by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

unedited excerpt

Founded shortly after the Revolutionary War, Pleasanton, North Carolina was the kind of town that was stereotypically southern.  In Pleasanton, you were a farmer, a farmer’s wife, a preacher, a preacher’s wife, a small business owner, or retired.  You could also be dead, but then you weren’t really adding to the GDP so dead didn’t count.

An hour outside of the port city of Wilmington, Pleasanton had one main street, three traffic lights, a barbeque joint, a chicken restaurant, a garage, and four churches (two of them Baptist) packed in its ten square miles.  Nine thousand residents and fifteen hundred dogs (half of them hunting) called the town home.  Almost every house had a front porch, a pickup truck on the gravel driveway, a Bible in the sitting room, sweet tea in the fridge, and at least two rifles somewhere on the premises.  Of the 9,000 residents, 33 percent were Caucasian; 30 percent were African-American; 20 percent were Native-American; the rest were a mix of all of the above; and a full 23 percent of them were certifiable, meaning if you dragged them to an asylum someone would give you a sack of potatoes and a fifty dollar check for bringing them. 

 

All rights reserved.  Copyright by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

There Are No Goats, Half-Naked Men or Twerking in This Blog Post…Read It Anyway

NB: Insert photo of half-naked hotness just to trick them

We are women of many names; however, most of our readers know us as Jeanie and Jayha (J and J).  As prose artists, we like to write a particular way: our way.  While we could write within the norm, we prefer to create bespoke stories.  Hand-tailored for a luxurious reading experience, our stories look good on paper and feel good in our heads.  Our prose doesn’t however fit neatly into categories, but neither do we as writers.  Our prose flows outside of the lines.  Characters bitch slap the plot all over the page.  And we let them because we enjoy the end result even if we loathe the process.  We don’t pants a damn thing because like every great master plan, the devil’s in the details.  We plot.  Muhaahahah.

Having more than our fair shares of awesomeness, one would think we come to the story with arrogance knowing we’re going to beat it into a bestseller.  We might be a tiny bit arrogant but we come to each story with bribes in the form of cookies and bacon, hoping to trick it into doing what we want.  Does it work? Hey, what happens during a rough draft and the edit and proofing sessions, stays there. 

So what is the point of the first two paragraphs and the photo of the half-naked dude you ask?  The half-naked dude is there to ogle and to distract you from any glaring error.  The point of the first two paragraphs is to get us to the point, which is: Jeanie and Jayha have returned…kind of like the Jedi but without the Deathstar. NB: We don’t own that because if we did, we probably wouldn’t be up at 1 am writing a blog post.  Just saying. 

—Jeanie and Jayha

We apologize.  We meant to insert a photo of a half-naked dude but all we had on hand was an all naked dude. 

The Next Big Thing

Ten Interview Questions for the Next Big Thing:

 

What is your working title of your book? Irish Coffee

Where did the idea come from for the book? From a character in our book Vive la Revolution!

What genre does your book fall under? An interracial madcap comedy

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? The heroine would be played by Queen Latifah; the hero would be played by a bigger version of Chris Hemsworth (Thor 2011).

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? Irish Coffee is what you get when you mix a crazy, cool, sexy, hot BBW with a rough, motorcycle-riding, Cajun who likes nothing more than a challenge…especially when the challenge is stacked from the front to the back.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? Irish Coffee will be published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? Since we re-wrote it like ten times…a long time.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? Vive la Revolution, Tres Leches Shake…both by us!

Who or what inspired you to write this book? Our characters in Vive la Revolution.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? Read it and find out.

**

Who tagged us: Janet Eckford, http://janeteckford.blogspot.com/.

Who we are tagging:

• Gynger Fyer: http://www.gyngerfyer.blogspot.com/

• Elle D. Hayes: http://elledhayes.blogspot.com

• Marteeka Karland: http://www.marteekakarland.com/

• Kassanna: Visit my blog at http://kassalot.wordpress.com/

• Cora Blu: www.corablu/com/blog

Why:

Because they’re badazz, they represent a mix of genres, and they can be talked into doing stuff like this.  Grin. 

Treats from our homies over at Mocha Memoirs Press

Mocha Memoirs Press Presents Dark Mocha Bites Series by Nicole Givens Kurtz

Halloween, specifically, and October—in general are my favorite time of year. Fall is my favorite season, so yes, this month holds a particular place in my heart. As a publisher, I enjoy speculative fiction, and October always moved my hand from science fiction texts to horror.

While Mocha Memoirs Press publishes a lot of romance titles, we are a speculative fiction house. We love a good story, and a good, scary story is even better. Heart pounding, hair raising, I-didn’t-see-that-coming, horror is not only entertaining but thrilling.

Enter Dark Mocha Bites, our series of stories devoted to horror and horror romance. This month we’re spotlighting our new Dark Mocha Bites titles in conjunction with our already delicious horror titles.

There are several reasons Dark Mocha Bites are special.

• They can be mash-ups of other genres. We are not afraid of genre mash-up, such as the case with Tom Olbert’s HELLSHIFT.

• They’re fresh takes on what is truly scary.

• These stories are usually under 30,000 words. 

• So you’re looking at short fiction to novella length stories. That is a true challenge in and of itself. To pack a solid, scary, character driven horror story into a story that’s less than 30,000 words takes skill and talent.

For authors, we’re open to new submissions of Dark Mocha Bites throughout the year. October is just the month we move the spotlight to our horror fiction.

So, if you’re ready to try a new flavor of horror, we invite you to try Dark Mocha Bites from Mocha Memoirs Press. Visit us here at http://mochamemoirspress.com.

OMG The Jeanie Blogged

“Ahem!” the noise from The Jeanie’s imaginary audience quiets to silence.

“I stand here before you to…oops, wrong speech…one moment please” the imaginary audience waits patiently as The Jeanie swipes her hand across the virtual screen on her super computer (think Minority Report) before finding the correct speech.

“Hello my minions” pause for adulation, continue. “I am here on the Jeanie and Jayha blog to speak some small truths” pause for awed exclamations, continue.

“I have many issues I would like to cover, but today it will be, but one” Look at imaginary audience, which is made up of HOT ASS men whom are all half naked.

“What I will talk about today is this: Why The Jeanie is annoyed at the fact there are too many movies adapted to film that suck so much they are creating a filmic black hole in the universe.” Pause for a round of ‘Yeahs!’ to subside.

“As both an Author and a Scriptwriter, I find it offensive when I have read the book and get excited at its excellence, only to have my good times dashed when the movie sucks all kinds of ass!” wait as imaginary audience of hot ass half naked men all make sounds of agreement.

“I mean…come on people! You get paid wayyyyyyyy to fucking much and more often than not you have the author of the book/story readily available and somehow you still manage to make a suck ass film, which would serve us better if you buried it so far up your pompous greedy ass, that you’d be shitting celluloid for the next fifty years!” ‘Here here!’ is heard through-out the audience listening so intently.

“Now I have a solution…” pause for effect, every imaginary audience member leans forward in their seats, anticipation written all over their handsome faces. “Allow The Jeanie, Fearless Leader and their fellow Beautiful Trouble counterparts to take over the world therefore better films will be adapted from books/stories.”

Cue: THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE and FISTS IN THE AIR!

“The Jeanie has spoken”

Guest Blogger: Latrivia S. Nelson-Searching for My Muse

Many artists, writers, poets and musicians have said that their creative work has been inspired by an individual whom they refer to as their muse. A muse is someone who has such an influence on another that he or she becomes the focus and inspiration for that person's creative work. The term has historically been used by men to describe the women that they have been in love with and made the subject of their work.

The word muse originates from Greek mythology. The Greek gods Zeus and Mnemosyne had nine daughters called the Muses. The nine daughters were of one being in heart, spirit and thought. If the muses loved a man, then the man's worries instantly disappeared. The man who was loved by the muses was considered to be more sacred than a holy man.

Now, I don’t love all my muses, but I definitely appreciate how they help my pages come to life…

There is something absolutely amazing about finding a muse for one of my interracial romance adventures. Sometimes I search them out and sometimes, they simply find me. But there is one thing that is for sure. I must have inspiration. So, I must have an inventory of men in every shape, every size, every profession, every way possible.

The human mind is a great thing. It can come up with the most exciting stories, but it must first be fueled. I won’t dare compare myself to Michelangelo or Maya Angelou. What I will say is that I understand that in order to do anything great, an artist must have a creative spirit.

Consequently, every time that I want to write I have to go shopping, or at least, that’s what I call it. Shopping is when you go out into the public and simply look for random men with endearing qualities that women can appreciate and use that to create a great storyline. It’s a hard job yes, but someone has to do it.

Happily married, the only joy that I get from meeting a very hot man is that I can possibly use him in the future for a romantic tale. So I memorize the most delicious parts of him and combine him with the most delicious parts of another wonderful looking man that I’ve met and like baking the perfect cake…Voila, dinner is served. My only hope is that the readers eat him up.

However, my characters hardly ever are inspired by one particular man. Most of the time, they are a combination of lawyers, cops, chefs, professors, doormen…you name it. Occasionally, I’ll find a man capable of giving me complete inspiration. But those are few and far in between.

Nicola Agosto from Ivy’s Twisted Vine (2008) was inspired by an Italian-American cop. Dmitry Medlov (2010) was inspired by a Jewish-American millionaire and Anatoly was inspired by a young man at a pub who had great genetics and a wonderful Russian accent. However, the little idiosyncrasies from many men are the true details that make me giddy. It might be the way that the yoga instructor runs his hands through his hair all the time, or the way that the financial consultant sucks his bottom lip when he’s explaining how our investments are growing or how the bartender winks every time he passes me a new drink. But they all serve as flawless inspiration.

The great part of searching out a new man is that I’m able to truly to see the beauty in all of God’s male children. The bad part of shopping is that sometimes, people think that I’m a super stalker.

Now, the funny part.

Men are often looked at as stalkers or strange, but women hardly ever get tagged with the title. However, I have been known to sit in the corner of a bar and document everything worthy of using later. Being a writer requires you to also be an observer. So, I carry around a notepad all the time. And when a man catches you eyeing him, he automatically assumes that you’re interested. If I had a penny for every time that I had to explain that I was not trying to flirt with “him” but rather capture essence for a book, I’d be rich. But it’s true. I just want to catch a glimpse and use it later for a story that sings.

I was at grocery store the other day and a man walked past me who was holding his daughter’s hand. It was the way that he held her hand that mesmerized me. His large hand completely covered hers. And he seemed hopelessly devoted to his task of escorting the most important person in his life. You could tell that she was his little treasure. He was ever so careful, ever so loving. It was the kind of thing that you only recognize if you have been the recipient of that kind of care. I found myself staring, admiring the two as they passed me. I forgot all about my own groceries and stood in the isle way like a freak. He even turned back and looked at me, probably wondering what I was doing. But in him, I saw something beautiful. The act was inspiring not the coke bottle glasses or his unsightly bald spot, just the way that he held her hand.

As an interracial romance author, I have to think outside of the box. There is such a colorful rainbow to choose from. The Irish, Scottish, British, Russian, Australian, Brazilian, the Asian and Cuban and so many more. They all give me inspiration. I love to couple them with the beautiful black women that I also go shopping for to combine to make authentic couples worthy of putting on a page.

I’m currently writing Gracie’s Dirty Little Secret, the second book of The Lonely Hearts Series, and I’ve found myself recycling my Jewish friend. However, a great deal of his mannerisms come from a German saxophonist that I met and a Swedish newspaper reporter. We want even talk about how much I get from my super inspiration, my husband, Adam.

What continues to surprise me is the endless black female muses that I have collected. Their beauty amazes me also. There are so many types of strikingly gorgeous black women with so many styles. While Hollywood seems to only want to portray a small segment of us, I find that there are so many types of black women to write about until my notepads are full. Eye shape, color, smile, laugh, profession, grace. It baffles me at times.

In looking for a muse, the one thing that I have learned is that God’s beauty is great and as a writer, I get to actually appreciate it on a daily basis. He has created us all in such magnificent ways, and we all are so different – so worthy of our story. When I combine the cultures in my romance novels, I find myself overjoyed by the idea of love breaking through boundaries. Such a pity that more people don’t appreciate two people finding love regardless of their background.

I think I’ll always write interracial romance novels, because it’s my little contribution to the acceptance of the human race as a whole. It plagues me why we make walls for ourselves. Living in this world with all these beautiful people is a gift in itself. You combine with it all the beautiful places and you have an endless romantic novel.

However, don’t get me wrong, there is so much beauty in black love. And there are so many authors out there who do a wonderful job of writing them also. I just think we all need a voice. We all need an author to capture the beauty in daddies holding their daughters’ hands. We all need someone to see how beautiful we all are. We all need a romance novel.

Who is your muse? In what you do, you need inspiration. And if you look around, there is plenty of it in this world.

Latrivia S. Nelson
http://www.latrivianelson.info/

In Love & Trust by Jeanie and Jayha

In Love & Trust was a book that really took JandJ to literary places we hadn't intended on journeying. Originally, it was supposed to be a short book of 20K words but along the way, characters needed fleshing out, scenes needed extending, and individuals needed to be healed/redeemed/brought to justice. In the end, we were changed as much as the characters and plot was changed.

Our stories are never as nice and neat as we'd like them...but we're discovering that that's okay. We don't put the pen down until we hear the double sigh (one from Jeanie; one from myself). Though we invented the characters and the context...we don't invent the realities that individuals suffer through/triumph over. Therefore, we cannot help but be moved. Hopefully, you are as moved as we are.

Give it a read and let us know how you feel about this one.

Guest Blogging: Stacy Deanne

Stacy-Deanne: Interracial Romance’s First Lady of Crime & Mysteries

A Behind-the-Scenes Look at “Giving up the Ghost”

Hi Everyone,

I am honored to be a guest on Jeanie and Jayha’s blog! I appreciate them for letting me hijack their space to give folks an inside look into “Giving up the Ghost” my fourth release coming in April 1, 2011!

I am very excited because this book is the first installment of my crime/mystery and interracial romance series. The main characters, Detective Brianna “Bree” Morris (black woman) and Detective Steven Kemp (white man) come from my last novel, “Melody” (2008/Simon and Schuster).

The Deal with Steven and Bree:

Steven and Bree have a very complicated but close friendship. It’s not easy to fight crime with someone you slept with on a regular basis. It’s even harder when one wants to relive the past. Steven’s the jilted lover who can’t let go of their love affair. With Bree it’s “her way or the highway”. She’s a nut he can’t crack though he loves trying. But don’t be fooled. Bree still has very strong feelings for Steven. You’ll have to read the series to see what passionate situations arise for these two ex-lovebirds. Throughout the series their friendship is challenged, rekindled feelings become hard to ignore, new love interests enter the equation and of course, many times they’re lives will be in danger.

And you’ll love every minute of it.

Why I Chose to Write a Series:

I got a lot of positive feedback from fans that enjoyed the Bree and Steven subplot in “Melody”. Seeing how I fell in love too, I knew their story could not end. They won my heart and there is so much I wanna explore with them. I hope the series ignites fans that are already familiar with Steven and Bree while bringing new fans and readers into the adventure. These two have become my favorite characters and I believe both are easy for readers to appreciate, admire and relate to.

It Ain’t All Hugs & Kisses:

Make no mistake. “Giving up the Ghost” is a full-fledged crime and mystery novel. I pull out all the stops. Sure there’s plenty of seduction, passion and romance but I stay true to my method in weaving a puzzle that’s not only as twisted as my warped little mind, but so mystifying you won’t be able to solve the case before the end.

But you’ll have fun trying!

Giving up the Ghost Sneak Peek:

Albany Detective Brianna “Bree” Morris is having the year from hell. A sadistic admirer has been stalking her for months and now her friend Cheyenne Wilson has been beaten and left for dead.

With her ex-lover and faithful partner, Steven Kemp, Bree thrusts herself into the case. It’s not long before they believe two unrelated British men are connected to the attack. Michael is a womanizing artist with a ferocious appetite for rough sex. Simon is a wealthy free spirit looking for love in all the wrong places, but has one too many skeletons in his closet.

Bree struggles to determine fact from fiction when it comes to Michael and Simon but her attempts are blurred by Michael's manipulation and her sexual attraction to Simon, who Steven’s convinced cannot be trusted.

Meanwhile the stalker does everything in his power to get close to Bree and his obsession evokes a spiral of violence.

Bree must trust her heart to find answers but her heart leads her to the most dangerous
man of all.


“Giving up the Ghost” (Peace in the Storm Publishing April 1, 2011). So save it to your wish list! It will be available in print as well as on Kindle and Nook!

Book two is coming 2012 so get “Giving up the Ghost” so you’ll be ready for the ride!

http://www.stacy-deanne.net

http://www.twitter.com/stacydeanne
Search for me on Facebook too!

My titles are available where books and ebooks are sold including Amazon.com and other online retailers.

Thanks for having me!

Bio: Stacy-Deanne (Dee-Anne) is an award-winning novelist. She’s been writing professionally since the age of nineteen. She was born, raised and resides in Houston, Texas. Among Stacy’s many accomplishments and awards she was profiled alongside other notable authors in the 2006 book, “Literary Divas: The Top 100+ African-American Women in Writing”. The book was nominated for a NAACP award.

She is a true mystery buff. Her idols are Alfred Hitchcock and Edgar Allan Poe. Her favorite genres beside mysteries are romantic suspense, historical romance and interracial romance.
She prides herself on being one of the few black writers in the crime/mystery genre as well as the only IR author who writes mystery and crime as their main genre. She’s been penned by some as “The first crime/mystery novelist of IR books”. She loves interracial romance especially black women and white men stories and her mission is to make crime fiction and mystery a dynamic force in the IR genre.

New for 2011: Guest Blogs

Word on the street is that blogs are all the rage...the new black if you will. Being that we treat our blog like the proverbial red-headed stepchild (no offense to redheads or stepchildren), we decided to get guest bloggers. No, that is not an attempt to get out of blogging...much. Grin. So if you are one of those readers that remember our blog exists, enjoy the blogs. JandJ