Artist James Bryant has forearm crutches in every color from rainbow for fun
to sleek black for business. He even has a pair with more paint
splatters than metal. After his family’s rejection and abuse from a
man he thought loved him, James only just gets through the day by
painting. He lives in constant fear that he’s not worthy of
anything, let alone love.
As CEO of his company, Carrington Enterprises, Seth Burns is a
take-charge kind of guy, and he is instantly smitten by the artist
helping with his newest project. When he witnesses James suffer a
panic attack, a protective instinct he never knew he had kicks in. He
truly believes nothing is unobtainable—including James—if he’s
willing to put in the time and effort.
James is shy and confused by Seth’s interest in him as a person. With
Seth’s support, can he work through his fears to finally find the
true love he deserves, or will someone finally land the crushing blow
he won’t survive?
Despite his past abuse, James has
come to terms with his relationship with
his Dom and lover Seth.Seth treats James with all the trust and love his sub
desires. There is
only one thing left to do to make it all complete: Seth needs to put a collar on James.
Most people see Chase Manning as the party-boy twink he seems on the
surface. Only James, Chase’s BFF, knows the depth of his loyalty and
the extent of the wounds Chase carries inside. When Chase meets Rhys
Sayer, things don’t go well, but he can’t shake his attraction to
the huge, sexy man.
Rhys is a man of contradictions and fear—a strange combination for a PI
and bodyguard. He’s in a bad place emotionally when he sets eyes on
Chase for the first time. When Chase puts the moves on him, Rhys
insults him, thwarting any possibility of a relationship. Rhys
doesn’t see himself as a complicated man, but he dreads the very
kind of connection he desires.
Just as they’re trying to overcome their uncertainties, Chase is put in
harm’s way. Luckily Rhys and their friends have all the right
talents to help Rhys save the man of his dreams.
When Chase Manning wakes up on the first
morning of PrideFest, the last
thing he expects to find is his lover and life partner, Rhys Sayer,
on bended knee. But the news that marriage has been legalized in the
state is a game changer for both of them.
After a mad dash to the courts, all they want is
to find their friends at
PrideFest to celebrate. However, what happens when they arrive will
bond them together forever—if their friends don’t have a
collective meltdown about their sudden disappearance first.
Alexander James Noble is a gender fluid gay man who gave up on finding Mister
Right a long time ago. He’s not asking for much, though. He just
wants a guy who loves all of him and appreciates his feminine form too.
At the local LGBTQ center where Alex regularly volunteers, he meets
Sayer, an officer of the Milwaukee PD. Because he’s been rejected
one too many times, Alex doesn’t trust the huge cop and the
interest he shows in him, but once Dal sets his mind on something, he
goes all out. Pushing aside his preconceived notions, Alex opens up
just a little and soon caves.
From their first date—while dealing with his father’s failing health
and his parents’ demands for him to settle down and have
children—Dal never takes his eyes off his goal of making Alex his.
But proving to Alex he isn’t like all the men who couldn’t see
him for who he truly was and only wanted to hide him away is harder
than he thought.
When Alexander James Noble looks in the
mirror, he sees a freak looking
back at him. Despite his high grades and plans for culinary arts
school after graduation, his parents would hate him if they really knew him.
Forced on a shopping trip with his twin sister,
Lyric, and her friends, Alex
eyes the girls jealously, longing to be able to dress like them—to
be them. The constant struggle of being “gender fluid,” wrestling
with an identity that seems to change daily, begins to wear on Alex.
But all those questions and fears seem more manageable when his
sister gives him his first skirt and lace panties
Simon Tyler knows his job as a gay romance author makes his lack of faith
in love more than a little ironic, but he’s tired of being used for
his wallet. When a night out turns into a matchmaking scheme
orchestrated by his best friends, Simon’s not thrilled, but since
he’s not the target and he’s sworn off happily-ever-after anyway,
he goes along with it… until he meets Adrian, the object of their
efforts, and finds perhaps he hasn’t given up on love after all.
Professor Adrian Keys has tried to date Hearing men before, but being
himself, he’s never had any success at making a connection. After
his friends con him into going out and Adrian realizes it’s all an
elaborate plan to set him up, he braces for yet another failure, only
to discover there is a spark—except it’s not with the man his
friends had in mind, but with Simon Tyler instead.
Not all their friends have found a way past their romantic failures, but
Simon and Adrian might be on the path to happily-ever-after.
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud pansexual genderfluid whose best friend
growing up had the courage to do what they couldn’t—defy the hate
and come out. He has been their hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic who loves strong relationships and
happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, they has done many
things in their life, yet writing has always drawn them back—no
matter what else life has thrown their way. They counts her friends,
family, and Muse as their greatest blessings in life. They live in
Wisconsin with their children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.
CHASE WOKE with a start. The sound of banging, then locks clicking, brought him out of the
fitful sleep he’d been trapped in since he’d finally cried himself out. Still fully clothed, having
crashed on the bed as he was when he’d fled Rhys’s the night before, he reached for the baseball
bat he always kept by the nightstand, hoping it was just James using his key.
“He probably just overslept, pet. You know he goes out clubbing with some of his other
friends.” Seth’s deep voice was soft, soothing.
“No, Seth. He’s not answering his cell. Simon and the others haven’t seen him today, and
he didn’t go out with them last night. It’s after three in the afternoon, yet he was supposed to
meet me at ten. So where is he?” That was James’s voice, but it was high and tight like it only
got when he was scared.
Chase rounded the corner to find his best friend, James, and James’s fiancé, Seth Burns,
heading straight for his bedroom.
“James? Seth?” Chase croaked. His voice was tight and scratchy, probably from the
pointless crying the night before, or had it been earlier this morning? “What are you doing here?”
“Chase!” James cried, flinging himself down the short hall as fast as he could with his
Chase released the bat and soon had his arms full of James. He looked past James to Seth,
and with a weak voice asked, “What are you guys doing here, and why is he freaking out?”
“Five hours, Chase! That’s how long ago you were supposed to be at the studio to meet
me. The private sitting was today, remember? Seth doesn’t like me to be alone with strangers in
my studio, so you said you’d be there, but you never showed. Your cell goes straight to voice
mail. Simon, Dale, Vaughn—no one has heard from you all day,” James rattled off, practically in
He could feel the pressure of Seth rubbing up and down James’s back as he held him.
“Calm down, hun. I’m right here, safe and sound. I just—” Chase bit off his words,
having no idea how to explain why he hadn’t been where he was supposed to be.
James suddenly pushed him back, holding tight to his arms, looking him up and down
with a curious expression on his handsome face. He cupped Chase’s cheeks, the tenderness of the
motion nearly breaking his heart again. “Chase, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing for you to worry about. I just had a rough night.” Looking past James to Seth,
he murmured, “Can you get him settled? I’ll shower and be right out. I really am very sorry for
upsetting you both.”
“James, come on. Let’s go sit down and wait for Chase,” Seth soothed, handing James’s
crutches to him again.
Chase mouthed “thank you” to Seth before he fled to his room.
After a quick shower to get the scent of Rhys and sweat off, Chase quickly dressed in a
simple T-shirt and a pair of old, threadbare jeans he kept for bumming around in. He didn’t feel
up to much right then, but he reckoned more than sleep pants would be good, considering Seth
was with James. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have worried about even that much.
After popping a couple of Tylenol, Chase headed out to find where his company was. He
got as far as his kitchen, where he found not only James and Seth, but a mug of his favorite
blonde roast coffee waiting for him.
“Thanks,” he offered, his voice soft. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for the coming
conversation, but he would never turn James away, not even now.
All three men entered the living room, where Chase flopped into his favorite chair, giving
James and Seth the couch.
“Chase,” James started tentatively. “What happened to you last night? Who hurt you?”
“What makes you think someone hurt me? I’m fine, just tired.”
James leaned forward, his face turning hard. “I know it was a guy that put you in this
mood, Chase. My nose works just fine, and you, dear,” he continued, wrinkling his nose, “you
smelled of sex when we got here. And, well, you look so sad. I didn’t even know you were
dating someone, but whoever he is, he’s obviously not good enough for you if he hurt you.”
James finished with a snort.
A slight smile tugged at his lips for a moment. God, he loved his BFF. Who else could
call you out on having sex, snort, and insult an unknown man all in one breath?
“Jamie, I’m not dating anyone, so there is nothing to tell. I wasn’t holding out on you.”
“Ha! Don’t give me that crap. You don’t have one-night stands. You go clubbing, dance,
and even hit on guys, but you never go home with any of them, so try again,” James snapped, his
eyes almost as hard as his voice.
“Really?” Seth asked.
“God!” Chase barked, throwing his hands up. “Why does everyone think I’m a damn
slut? Yes, really, Seth. If I take someone to bed, it’s after we’ve gotten to know one another a bit
and I have real feelings for the person. Why is—never mind. The point, Jamie, is that no, I’m not
dating anyone, and I’d really rather never see the person from last night again.”
Merely saying that much felt like picking at a not-quite-formed scab. Ignoring his
abandoned mug, Chase rubbed his temples, trying to forget it was the same motion that had
started everything with Rhys in the first place.
“Chase, yelling will not help. I only ask because of how you acted when James and I first
started seeing one another. My apologies for making assumptions about you. If you aren’t seeing
anyone, but you had sex and are now upset”—Seth’s voice dropped low, hard—“did someone
James tensed, and Chase knew he had to stop the panic attack before it set in.
“No, Seth. I just let things get out of hand. Rhys didn’t hurt me like that.” Chase slapped
his hand over his mouth as if he could contain the words that had already slipped out. “Forget I
said that last part, please,” he cried.
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Audrey Cooper has good memories Brighton Cove, Maine. She just hopes the
quiet, coastal village holds enough of them to silence the echoes of
the living hell she endured as a captive in the Middle East. Her
career as a journalist is over, but maybe—someday—she can
convince her terrified muse to come out of hiding.
renovates the farmhouse she inherited from her grandparents, with
her cat as her sole companion, she learns to live with the
loneliness…until the day a handsome stranger with dark, haunted
eyes helps her change a flat tire.
As an artist, widower Lincoln
Stewart has an eye for detail, and there’s
no missing that unmistakable spark of connection. In Audrey’s
company, two years of grief ease into bittersweet memory, and he
finds himself envisioning a future as colorful as his paintings. A
future with Audrey.
Through violent thunderstorms
and terrifying flashbacks, Audrey and Linc
discover their broken pieces fit perfectly—in and out of the
bedroom. But in the shadows, a very real threat lurks. Someone who’ll
stop at nothing to burn their rediscovered dreams to the ground.
First love is always better the second time around.
Basil Manning is happy with his life now that he’s given up on love. He has
everything he needs…the houses he’s building, the mansion he’s
renovating, and his Bernese Mountain Dog, Crash. In spite of his
mother’s insistent attempts to see him married, Basil plans on
staying a bachelor. That is, until he finds himself face-to-face with
the woman who once broke his heart.
Healing from a long-term relationship that turned abusive, Meg Cooper has
flung herself into running her eclectic shop, The Pink Moose. She
can’t afford complications, and the too-hot-for-his-own-good Basil
Manning, her one time almost fiancé, is definitely a complication.
But that irresistible pull between them isn’t over…not by a long
shot. If she’s not careful, she’ll break both their hearts…again.
Jagger Cooper never wanted to live in Brighton Cove. Having given up a
prestigious job with a U.S. senator, he merely intended to use it as
a place to lick his wounds and recharge his batteries as he decided
what came next in his life. The choices were many.
Tyler Channing, war widow and mother to a teenage son never thought of
allowing a man in her life again. Not until her son was grown. She
owed her late husband that much.
That is until that fateful day when he swaggered into her life.
Writing romance stories with passion and sass, Jamie Salisbury has seen
several of her books soar to #1 on Amazon. Her novella, Tudor Rubato
was a finalist in the 2012 RONE awards. The cover won for Best
Contemporary Cover. In 2014, her novel, Life and Lies was nominated
for a RONE in the Erotica category.
Her books are self published.
Music, traveling the globe and history are among her passions when not
writing. Her previous career in public relations in and around the
entertainment field has afforded her with a treasure trove of endless
Having stocked up on groceries and other essential items, I began the trip to my new home a few miles
outside town. I hadn’t gone far when I realized by the thudding and the way the SUV was handling that I
had a flat tire. Brand-new vehicle. Great.
I pulled off to the side of the road and got out to assess the damage. The tire was most definitely flat—
probably from a nail near the house. I would need to speak with the contractor about cleaning up the area
directly around the house and remember not to park too close to the site. Lucky for me, I’d stowed the
shopping bags in the backseat. Getting the spare tire out of the wheel well should be a cinch. I turned on
the hazard lights and popped the back hatch.
A few minutes later, I had the jack in place and was struggling to loosen the tire bolts. They were on tight,
as they should be, but it made it harder for an average woman to change the tire. There had to be an easier
way. This was too much like work.
I was standing up after having taken off the last bolt when a white SUV pulled in behind me with a man
inside. Help was here. He walked up, and the first thing I noticed was his dark eyes. They were the most
beautiful shade of brown I’d ever seen on a man. Scorching. Then he put on a pair of sunglasses. Still, he
was handsome, with his matching dark brown, shoulder-length hair, peppered with gray. He was tall and
lanky and appeared quite buff. Judging by the tan he was sporting, he might work outdoors.
“Need some help?” he asked in a gravelly voice.
“Yes, please.” I nodded, not knowing if I could speak coherently if he asked me anything more. My heart
was in my throat, and gooseflesh covered me. How could I be so instantly attracted to someone?
“I see you’ve done the hard part. I’ll pull this tire off and get you back on the road in a few minutes.”
I nodded again.
I watched him as he pulled off the flat and looked it over before grabbing the spare from the back. He had
to be at least six foot three, and he even walked sexy.
“Looks like you ran over a nail. Need to stay out of construction sites.”
He bent over and picked up one of the lug nuts. The view of his tight ass in those formfitting jeans was
heaven. I wondered if he was married. I hadn’t noticed a wedding ring. Hell, that didn’t mean a thing
A few minutes later, he was finished and everything was stowed back in my vehicle.
He straightened and dusted off his hands before he held one out to me. “I’m Linc, by the way. If you need
someone to fix your flat, go see Dwight. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll make sure to get it repaired
“Thank you, Linc. I’m Audrey,” I replied, shaking his hand and hoping I wouldn’t tie my tongue in knots.
“What do I owe you?”
“Not a thing.” He grinned. Perfect smile. Perfect man. “You have a nice rest of your day, and remember
what I said. Stay away from those construction sites.”
“I’ll try. Thank you again.”
“My pleasure, Audrey.”
I watched that fine ass as he walked back to his SUV. Damn, I certainly hoped he lived nearby. If he was
any indication of what the men looked like around here, I didn’t see myself leaving any time soon.
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Two people open themselves to the truth and open themselves to each other.
Her marriage in ruins, violinist Teagan Whitloch Munroe escapes into
music and the solace she finds at the Crystal Creek Ranch. Practicing
in the woods helps her piece together her life, but she isn’t
alone. When she hears someone hiking nearby, she demands he reveal
himself, but the only revelation she gets is a soothing voice that
heals the pain in her heart.
Maimed by a crushing accident, the once famous architect Phineas St.
protects the world from his disfigurement by sequestering himself in
the woods on the Crystal Creek Ranch. When he hears the intoxicating
strains from Teagan’s violin, he can’t resist the beauty that
quiets his aching soul, and he yearns to know the woman who creates
Teagan finds sanctuary in her friendship with this connoisseur of music,
soon realizes Phin’s hiding more than his hideous scars. As they
become entangled with each other, Teagan is stunned to learn they
share more than a love of music. They are caught in a web of deceit
by someone threatening to reveal Phin’s secrets. His exposed past
endangers Teagan, and he can no longer walk away. This time he must
face the enemy determined to defeat him. He’ll fight to the finish
to protect the woman he can never love. No price is too high to keep
buried the secret that will mark Teagan for destruction.
JT Whitloch can’t close his eyes without seeing the body of the woman
who drowned in his swimming pool two years ago. Though he doesn’t
remember that night, he blames himself for her death and walks away
from a life that gave him everything he ever wanted…almost
everything. His move to Crystal Creek gives him the solitude he longs
for, but still he can’t find peace.
Then Gretchen Moore moves to town, and she doesn’t just stir up his
desire. She stirs up his past, a past with a secret so deadly it
could destroy her.
Gretchen wants nothing to do with JT. Because of him, someone wants
The terror from his past forces them into an alliance that soon
ignites their passion. Fighting these feelings leads them to the
secret of the woman floating in JT’s swimming pool, but the
knowledge doesn’t ease JT’s inner turmoil. Instead, it reveals an
answer that could destroy him and Gretchen. His own destruction he
could accept, but he’ll defend Gretchen to his death.
A novel of suspense, revenge and a love so deep that it can only be
released through forgiveness.
Trent Parker has one goal – to own the film option for the
breakout novel Sunset in Maui. His problem? Actress turned producer
Charisse Whitloch. She’ll do anything to produce the film. Trent
can stop her, but not without getting close to her, a bond he can’t risk.
Charisse has found the film project that will prove
she’s her own woman – not her father’s daughter. One person
stands in her way – Trent Parker. She’s faced opposition before,
but she isn’t prepared for Trent. Her charisma has softened
Hollywood’s hardest hearts, but is she a match for Trent’s heart
Trent’s defenses against Charisse crumble – loving
her will heal the darkness in his soul and open the door to a secret
he buried long ago. When Charisse is threatened, she and Trent face
her adversaries. They piece together a plot more sinister than any
Hollywood movie, but the key to their survival lies in Trent’s past
– the key that will lead to Trent’s destruction.
She agrees to enter a loveless marriage, but the man who stole her heart
will do anything to stop her.
The holidays are over, and aristocrat Anna Whitloch must leave Crystal
Creek and return to Eastern Europe. She made a promise, a promise
that will save her mother’s estate. Someone else has other ideas.
Ideas that will get Anna out of the way permanently.
Anna can take care of
herself, so why was Deputy Rocco Ventali assigned to
protect her? She can’t depend on him, as he proved that night ten
years ago when they had planned to meet. He never showed.
The last thing Rocco
needs is to be assigned to protect Anna, but it soon
becomes clear no one else is qualified. So how does he protect the
woman he never stopped loving from the secret that could endanger her?
And how does he remain this close to her, and not love her,
when the love in his heart refuses to be reined in?
Giselle Whitloch has no time for love. As a college grad, she’s on track to
land her dream Wall Street job. Her great grandmother’s ring gives
her strength to pursue her goal. When she doesn’t get the job, she
flees to the Crystal Creek Ranch to regain her courage to step back
into her job hunting mode.
Niccolo di Saluzzo has been searching for the ring that will save his
family–the ring that disappeared from his family’s possessions one
hundred years ago. He will pursue the ring even if he has to follow
the one woman he can never love to an isolated ranch in Crystal
Creek, Colorado. Even if pursuing this woman costs him his life.
Niccolo and Giselle battle over ownership of the ring in a fight that takes
them from New York City to Crystal Creek, Colorado, to the Balearic
Island of Mallorca, to the pinnacle of love both must deny. But the
final battle is waged when they meet the man who plans to destroy
them both–all for the possession of a ring with a powerful secret.
When a blinding snowstorm shuts down
the Crystal Creek Ranch’s cattle
operation, the Whitlochs have one mission – save the cattle. ER doc
Jake Whitloch joins in the rescue, but the form he finds in a
snowdrift is no cow. It’s a woman, a woman who consumes his
thoughts despite that two carat diamond sitting on her ring finger.
Noelle Beaupré thanks the rugged doctor for rescuing her from freezing
death and the Whitlochs for taking her into their home, but now it’s
time for her to leave the ranch. She longs to stay with the man who’s
determined to protect her, but she doesn’t dare. Her deadly secret
is in hot pursuit. Any delay and she’ll endanger the family who
opened their home to her.
Noelle leaving Crystal Creek Ranch? Jake can’t let her go, but how can
convince her he’ll do anything to keep her safe?
This book includes your favorite Crystal Creek characters from Book
the Crystal Creek Series and several new characters, including Max
Whitloch’s children from his previous marriages who come to the
ranch for Victoria and Garrett’s wedding. All Max’s children will
have their own books as they pursue their quests for love.
Threatened by a stalker, she turns to the only man who can help her – the man
who walked out of her life ten years ago.
Artist Victoria Whitloch
escapes the clutches of a stalker only to stumble
into the arms of the man she never wants to see again, bad boy
prosecutor Garrett Reynolds. To protect Victoria, Garrett whisks her
away to an isolated lodge. Major problem for Victoria—how does she
help Garrett capture the stalker while guarding her heart against the
man who broke it once before? Garrett thought his heart had healed
when Victoria left him ten years ago. Garrett’s bigger
problem—capture the stalker determined to imprison Victoria.
Keeping Victoria safe is no easy task for Garrett, but getting her to
trust him is an entirely different challenge. He puts his life on the
line to guard the woman who is more deserving of love than any woman
he’s known. But love takes a back seat to the Whitloch-Reynolds
feud. At the center is the Crystal Creek Ranch. The Whitlochs own the
ranch. The Reynolds are the rightful heirs.
Laura Haley-McNeil received degrees in Spanish and German from Metropolitan
State University of Denver. She taught Spanish and then worked in the
Western History Department of the Denver Public Library translating
the correspondence of Bishop Joseph Machebeuf.
After moving to San Diego, she worked as the accountant for a Christian
television station, then transferred to Hardin, Montana, and
performed technical production for the television station there.
She returned to Denver and supervised accounting departments for a title
company and a stock brokerage firm. During this time, she renovated
homes, bought and managed several residential properties and obtained
a real estate license. She has also worked as the property manager
overseeing five business office complexes,, high-rise office
buildings and producing newsletter and marketing material.
She is an accomplished ballet dancer having studied and performed in
area for more than twenty years and has studied piano for over forty
years. Musical studies also include violin and organ. She has been on
the board of directors of two Colorado orchestras and is a past
member of the American Liszt Society.
Several of her short stories have been published in national magazines,
she has written book reviews for Book Lover’s Magazine. She is the
author of the Crystal Creek Series and the Beaumont Series.
Teagan Whitloch Munroe was trembling. She was trembling, and she couldn’t stop.
She’d been trembling for more than two hours—since she’d left the downtown Denver
condominium she shared with her husband, Dr. Wilbert Munroe. What she’d seen inside
the condo—in their bedroom—made her want to vomit. A cold knot of disgust and
revulsion gripped her stomach.
When she’d walked into the master bedroom, she must’ve gasped. Will was lying on
the bed, but he wasn’t alone. He’d lifted his head from the pillow. He looked right at her.
He didn’t look surprised. He looked annoyed.
She’d pressed a hand over her mouth.
Blinded by tears, she’d backed into the doorjamb and stumbled into the hallway. She
didn’t remember running out of the condo, but she must have. Her legs throbbed, and her
chest ached. The only thing she remembered was her husband calling her name. What
had he said? Let’s talk? She didn’t know if she should laugh or sob.
And she remembered the dulcet laughter of the naked woman who was servicing him
in bed. Teagan’s and Will’s bed. Teagan had thought Ginny Andrews was her friend.
Some friend. Ginny who was svelte and toned. A contrast to Teagan who’d struggled
with her weight since she was seven years old.
A shuddering breath rocked through Teagan’s lungs. Tears streamed down her
cheeks. She wiped them away.
She barely remembered driving to the Crystal Creek Ranch, throwing a saddle on her
favorite horse, Champagne, and racing through the meadows until she reached the aspen
forest covering Crystal Peak.
Fighting against the despair that filled her, she wrapped shaky fingers around the
reins and urged the Arabian horse through the trees bursting with spring green leaves.
Her vision blurred, and she tried to focus on the pink wild roses and purple elephant’s
head mingling with the green undergrowth. The splashes of Crystal Creek tumbling over
rocks sounded next to the trail. It was happy and musical and far from the darkness that
crowded her heart. Her stomach roiled and begged to be emptied of the half sandwich
she’d eaten during the orchestral rehearsal that afternoon.
She ran her hand over the horse’s neck damp from perspiration.
“How’re you doing, Champagne?” Her voice was husky, and she asked the question
The mare snorted. She shook her head. Her mane danced through the air.
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Detective Michael Taylor, of the Oakland PD, is the lead on a horrific serial
killer case. For six weeks, he has been cleaning up mounds of the
killer’s mess. Bodies of men have been found chopped up and left,
skin down, for display. Michael, mysterious to many in his
department, is desperate to solve this case.
Michael’s only form of stress relief, Candy, a stripper employed at a San
Francisco club, begins to show genuine interest in him and they form
a relationship a midst all the chaos that is Michael’s life.
Between interviews and police reports, Michael makes time for her.
Candy, more commonly known as Vanessa, gets tangled in Michael’s
things unfold. A killer’s desire for retribution leaves her a
victim of crime. Vanessa has to use her wit and charm to keep a
killer at bay as she leaves bread crumbs for Michael to follow. The
lovers must survive a serial killers plot for vengeance while
practicing trust and loyalty throughout.
Oakland Police Detective
Michael Taylor is faced with another gruesome case:
a dead man with no eyes and lips sewn shut.
After catching a grisly Bay Area serial killer, Michael is hit on all sides
He starts his investigation with a rookie detective for a partner,
his love life is in turmoil, and the pressure at the PD is mounting
as the newly minted partners receive a second case that is being
pressed as a priority. Michael, the consummate loner, has to manage
all of his new relationships, keep his wits and juggle the demands of
the PD as he tries to get justice for his victim.
Just as the tag team start to hit a stride, the murder attempts start to pile
and Michael is in the crosshairs. The duo must work fast to defend
their victim and save Michael’s life.
Her passion for writing took a backseat to a career in Education as well
as her personal education. Tiffany was honored to have work published
for the first time in May 2011. Since then her work has been featured
in many books and online publications. From fiction to non-fiction,
murder to relationships, Tiffany’s range as a writer is wide and
deep. Crazy about killing, Tiffany’s favorite genre to write is Crime Fiction.
Tiffany writes for readers and wants their full input as she creates her
work. “It is my job to satisfy readers. Everything they say
about my work is invaluable. I use it to make myself and my writing
Tiffany’s hobbies include reading, Just Dance, and watching hours of ID
The man stood up from his squatting position on the floor and wiped his head with his forearm.
Blood smeared across grotesquely. The big man, breathing heavily, held his hands on his hips
effeminately. He smiled as he looked down at his work.
“All done,” he said, dusting his hands together.The motion was futile. He could not remove the
blood from his hands just by brushing them against each other. He was a creature of habit, so
the hand motion served as more of a finishing statement. He didn’t intend to literally clean his
hands. He had done this motion so many times, after his work, that it was just… a thing.
Besides, his right hand was cut, so without some first aid, the bleeding would continue.
“Gotta go,Bob,” he said. The man began to gather his tools. A small saw, hammer, and chef
knife were first into the bag. Then he untied Bob’s wrists’, wound up the bloody rope, and put it
into the bag. Next was the vial of tranquilizer and needle. He grabbed a plastic bag filled with his
trophy and tucked it into the side pocket of his bag. Lastly, the man grabbed his extra-large
flashlight and turned it off. He slipped it into the bag and moved to the doorway. He looked back
at the dead, bloody pile of human flesh, muscle, and bones. The man smiled and tipped an
“Thanks for a good time.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Michael Taylor stood outside the abandoned house.This Friday afternoon the Oakland,
California sun was being lazy, letting the clouds win their daily battle, overcasting the sky. It was
an even 66 degrees that day in May, which lent well to standing outside for hours. The police
officers swarmed like bees on a tulip – in and out of the house, up and down the driveway.
Michael just did what he knew best – observe. While everyone else frantically tried to gather
things, Michael learned through observation. There was not much evidence to gather outside,
but Michael could see the bloody footprints. He wondered who would be brazen enough to
leave the house and get into their car without cleaning themselves up first. The killer, as usual,
had gone unnoticed. Only the stench of death drew attention. The neighbors called it in that
morning and this was body number six.
Michael had been thinking about those footprints for six weeks. Every time he arrived at the
scene of another murder, he saw those footprints. He sighed and went under the police tape,
grabbing the first officer in his path.
“This is what we’re used to, yes?” he asked.
“So get everyone out of here. I need CSI and you, that’s it.” Michael ordered as he walked away
and entered the house.
Michael was mysterious to everyone at the precinct. He was stoic at best and preferred to work
alone, so no one knew much about him. He was the best detective on the force, proving himself
with a long list of quickly and accurately solved cases and everyone wanted to be around him,
but he was very guarded. As the old adage goes, women wanted to be with him and men
wanted to be him. Michael was tall and handsome, well built, smart, and determined. His
caramel brown skin was flawless. He had copper eyes shaped like half-moons and thick lips. He
wore his facial hair in a goatee and mustache and kept his hair cut low and conservative with
Michael preferred to wear a button up dress shirt with a tie and slacks every day. He only wore
a jacket on extremely cold occasions and his slacks were always black. Unlike his counterparts
who stuck with the usual white shirt and dark tie, Michael was more daring in his shirt and tie
selection. His shirts ran the range from blue to black, shades of red, and even purple. Those
who thought he was a straight shooter were often thrown for a loop when he pulled out his pink
shirts. Michael was feeling green that day, with a black tie, his favorite black slacks, and
The officer cleared the scene and entered the house after making a call for CSI. He caught up
with Michael. “DetectiveTaylor, are you sure you want me? I’ve never helped before. Are you
sure you don’t want to ask Officer Jamison?”
“Did the other officers try to make you think they were special? I pick the first officer I see. That’s
you. Now get ready to write. Is CSI on the way?”
“Excellent. What’s your name?”
Michael led Officer Watterson through the house.Using his nose as a guide, he found the body
in the back. The rotting flesh waiting for them was no surprise to Michael. He quickly entered the
room and approached the body. Officer Watterson peeked into the door, and when he saw the
mound of flesh he stopped short and gagged.
“Here’s a mask.” Michael pulled the mouth and nose masks from his pants pocket. He handed
one to Officer Watterson and then put one on himself. The smell was overwhelming without
something covering their noses. They could still smell the odor of death, but it was bearable with
Officer Watterson entered and began taking notes.
The dead body was in many pieces and stacked up like a mountain of red and white slaughter
house trash. Bones and human muscle were the only things recognizable. Skin had been turned
inside out so without moving some body parts, you couldn’t tell the ethnicity of the victim. Officer
Watterson spotted the skull, or was it a patella? He decided not to write anything specific on that
note. He just described what he knew he was looking at.
“Everything is the same here. Pile of flesh, footprints leading out of the room, nothing else.”
Michael stopped short.“Wait, I’ve got hair. That’s new.” Michael slipped on some gloves.
Officer Watterson gasped. “Something new?”
“Yeah, we’ve never seen any left-over hair.Scalping is usually the first thing done. He takes the
teeth too. I wonder what it means that he left this.” Michael squatted down to the floor and
picked up the hair. He looked at it, closely. “This could be the killers, but I doubt it.There would
have had to be a fight, but he always uses tranquilizers.” Michael sighed and put the hair down.
“At least we can quickly ID this victim, compared to the others.”
The CSI team entered the room.
“Same old, same old, huh?” one of the masked men said.
“Yeah. Except there is some left-over hair. Tag and bag, you know the drill. Watterson?”
Michael stood up, “Is the coroner coming?”
“Okay, let’s search for evidence, even though I don’t think we’ll find anything. Watterson, look
around upstairs and gather anything you find valuable.”
Michael walked all four walls of the room. There was nothing but blood splatter on the floor and
up the walls. Michael stopped and looked at each drop of blood briefly. When he got near the
door his game of duck duck goose gave up a runner. Every drop of blood was dark brown and
dry, dark brown and dry, dark brown and dry, until… red. There was a drop of blood near the
door that was not as oxidized as the other drops.
“Wh-who’s in here?” Michael shouted over his shoulder.
“Jones, Crantz, and Mercado,” one of the men said.
“Mercado, I will bet you a hundred dollars that this is my killers’ blood.”
Juan Mercado almost broke into a sprint. He bumped into Michael and looked over his shoulder.
“Oh shit.” Juan ran back to his case and grabbed a handful of swabs and collection tubes. He
quickly returned to the door and took two swabs of the blood. When he stood Michael grabbed
him by the shoulder.
“Take one more. Get it all.”
Juan did as he was told and when he came up for air he started to laugh. “Oh my God. This is
“Don’t get too excited. Just get these items to the lab, now.”
Michael continued to check the bottom floor of the house for evidence. He met Officer
Watterson at the foot of the stairs and let him know about the blood.
“That’s great! Hopefully we can finally nail this bastard.”
“Don’t get excited, we’ll have to get a DNA match in order for it to mean anything. Just get a
report written and get it on my desk. I’ll let you know how it goes with the blood.” Michael
headed towards the front door.
“Okay, but come on Detective Taylor, this is good news.” Officer Watterson said to Michael’s
Michael stopped and looked at the officer. He smiled. “Yeah, good news.”
Michael entered his Crown Victoria and drove back to the station. He wanted to finish his report
early. He had someplace to be that night. He zoomed through traffic and parked in his favorite
spot on the street. His unmarked vehicle was black and he had no problem entering the precinct
from the front door.
Michael made his way to his desk, nodding his greeting to each person who acknowledged him.
When he sat down he was immediately interrupted.
“New evidence!!” a woman bellowed.
“Yes.” Michael said without looking up. “Exciting.”
“Doesn’t sound like you think so.” The heavy set woman stood next to Michaels’ chair and put
her hands on her hips.
“I just don’t think the killer is that careless. After six weeks of chasing, why would he just leave
his blood?” Michael wondered, looking up at the detective.
“Well honey, I hope he was careless. You need it.” She smiled and turned to leave. “The
lieutenant is ordering dinner. You want something?”
“No, I’m leaving as soon as I’m done with this report.”
“Yes, it’s Friday. Michael never sticks around onFriday’s,” she said, teasing. She bounced to the
next occupied cubicle and promptly started up a new conversation with her fellow detective.
Michael smiled and jumped in to his report. He had to be done by 7:30 p.m. or he might miss
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The F-Word: A three letter word that carries the greatest impact to the
deepest void inside the soul…Fat there I said it.Just the word
alone makes every hurt, pain, failure or haunting memory rise to the
surface and food is the only thing that will quiet the storm.You
don’t have a problem with food! You have problems, issues,
behaviors and you go to food. There is a big difference!WEIGHT, What?
is the third release in the Now That’s Just Stupid, Inc. book
series. It’s a journey through real weight loss using regular,
every day foods only this time you will solve the issues and keep the
food. No one should tell you what to eat, what not to eat or how much
to eat. YOU know how to do that! What you don’t know is how to
solve the reasons why you overeat. Healthy foods and exercise didn’t
make you fat and they won’t make you thin UNTIL you face the
emotional issues underneath the weight. This book will show you how
to use your food to guide you toward your C.O.R.E. issues and take
the steps to solve them.
Author, Debra Taylor has battled obesity since childhood topping out at
almost 400 pounds before learning to manage her adiction to food. She
now holds a Masters of Science with an emphasis in Applied Behavioral
Analysis and a Ph.D. In Psychology, with an emphasis in addiction.
Her specialty is working with clients who struggle with behavioral or
emotional eating before, during and after their weight loss. She has
traveled nationally and internationally as a motivational speaker and
was Director over several hospital surgical and non-surgical weight
loss programs. While working with tousands of obese individuals she
designed the meaning behind food groups that explain and solve
emotional eating while teaching people to lose weight eating
regular every day foods.
When Your Circle Gets Smaller Not everyone that starts with you in your life will finish with you. We often hear this in life situations as we transition from high school to college and college into the grown-up world. But this phrase is never more apparent than when an individual changes their physical appearance. As much as you may want to believe that your weight is indeed just about you and no one else, you are sadly mistaken. People derive many courses of action when dealing with others they initially meet. The first impression one gives to another tremendously impacts how they are treated in many complex interactions. Women tend to be better at judging non-verbal behavior than men, but it may not be out of knowledge but rather out of the repeated occurrence. Judgment is given and placed on women by both sexes more often, and therefore the value set on appearance can often override other qualities. Obesity bias occurs within healthcare, employment, community interaction, spiritual arenas, educational endeavors and relationships with and without our knowledge. Studies have been done in marketing that has shown an overweight individual serving you fast food will deter you from ordering large portions. Their visual appearance makes one quickly assess their own and whether or not they should be eating so much. This occurs in a matter of seconds of the interaction.
Still, others have sought out heavy set people for certain positions in a company while others need thinner
people for specific roles. Then there is the mighty beast of healthcare. The largest conglomerate of
individuals who should know better is commonly understood to be instigators of increasing one’s weight
instead of teaching tools to reduce obesity. Many overweight patients won’t even seek health care due to
the treatment and ridicule they receive at the physician’s office. Clearly, they are aware they are
overweight, and it’s impacting their future livelihood and life expectancy. However, repeating this
information in a derogatory fashion with a hope that creating a fear will convince them to diet is not a
solution. You can’t scare most overweight people to stop eating any more than you can scare the drug
addict from shooting up his or her arm. The problem(s) are not being addressed only the symptoms of
excessive food and lack of movement. As a healthcare professional you are just feeding your ego to think
that telling them what they already know is helpful. There are broader issues involved that may be out of
your expertise thus referring them to experienced professionals in the industry as well as mental health
professions is a step in the right direction. Ultimately, it is up to the patient to take the desired steps for
their self-care. But when the window of opportunity presents itself for a medical professional to respond
to the one seeking help, it should be respected.
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