Welcome to a new year: 2016. I plan to provide new authors with information and resources I have gathered in the years it took me to self-publish my works. In 2016 my blog will list cover artist, their services, editors, and places where you can find help and gather your own information when you decide to self-publish. I hope you have a passionate and prosperous New Year. Enjoy!
Barnes and Nobel, Apple ITunes, Kobo, Smashwords, Amazon, Google, and All ERomance .
When I first met Maximillian Blackstone I thought it was the day I took an offer for employment at his hotel in Montana, when ours eyes, and then our bodies merged. He sauntered into the Millennium Lodge with his entourage, dressed in a tailored black suit, and black shirt with the collar opened displaying his taut chest. His stride slow and deliberate, taking in everyone around him with a hint of a smile. A handsome man if ever I saw one. His serious gaze with dark hooded eyes under those long full eyelashes concealing his exceptional green eyes, then connecting with mine.
However, I discovered it was earlier that I first crossed his path. I entered his orbit on the morning of my interview as he exited his Manhattan building. The impressive structure displayed large gold plated letters with Millennium written over the portico. When he strolled through the chrome glass door to his black limo our eyes connected for a moment as quick as a flash of lightening on a spring day. No warning. Just that fast, and then he disappeared into the limo and behind the black windows.
Passing him as I entered the building, in those seconds, I felt a pull weighing me down. It was a strange feeling, where I had to shake my head, then turning catching sight of his back entering his car. His short dark curly hair revealed a fresh haircut. His shoulders wide, with that black suit fitting impeccably close on his body. The suit not wearing him, but he, wearing the suit as if part of his skin. His long legs and expressive manicured hands stood out when he turned with his eyes acknowledging me, and those gold cufflinks catching the sun bouncing off and holding my eyes as he passed in those seconds.
I entered the glass doors hoping for a position at one of Blackstone’s companies. At the time I needed a job and I would accept anything they offered. I took the thirty-third floor to Max’s office building waiting for an interview, unaware my life would change. When I passed him and he glanced at me it was because he recognized his selection.
It’s all coming back to me. The folder held by the woman from HR with the black business suit, not so sensible shoes, and the blond hair, dropped on her desk important information about me, which was the key to my past and the key to my future.
A past of adoption, a past of homelessness, and fear. Fear of graduating from college and not having a job and a place to stay, and mounting school debt, which had sustained me through college because by now my sponsor had cut off my funds. When I accepted employment in Montana at Max’s swanky ski lodge, I had never been to that state, and never been on skis. I was anxious to get out of Brooklyn for a short time, so I accepted the position because of the outrageous money offered for a few months’ work.
But if they were giving it away, I said, “What the hell, I’ll take it.” I can learn to ski and pay some bills.
Off I flew and that was the day my life changed. I married Maximillian Blackstone after loads of drama, with the kind of drama and kinky stuff only found in movies. A marriage proposal from my birth mother’s husband, then the pregnancy, and finally a marriage proposal from Max, which I eagerly accepted because I loved him and I was tired of fighting him for custody of our son.
Unpredictable and exciting is just one reason I said, ‘I do take this man...’ I had never seen a man as handsome as my Max. I can see him now with his expensive Italian bespoke black suits and white shirts and ties. His shoes made just for his feet. Dark curly hair and those green eyes. Just thinking about him can bring me to a state of unequal sexual pleasure.
I didn’t really know this man and what he was capable of doing, and I still don’t, and he doesn’t know me. Does anyone really know anyone or what they are capable of?
All I desired at the time was to be in his arms and to have him make love to me in whatever manner suited him.
Out of sheer boredom and curiosity, I reach for one of the local New York papers and read the headlines aloud while sipping a cup of coffee. “Socialite found bound, gagged, nude, and dead wearing handcuffs. She was discovered by her husband with her arms trussed over her head fastened to a white velvet headboard in her Park Avenue apartment. Nude and dead,” I repeated. Sounds like the first time I met Max when he deserted me and didn’t call. I felt dead when I thought I would never feel him inside of me ever again.
“A five hundred dollar light pink printed silk chiffon scarf tied neatly around her neck.” It escapes me why a reporter would put the price and description of the scarf. Am I missing something here?
Raising my head, looking around, shaking my head, and taking another sip of coffee, I continued reading.
“Her lover explained, ‘it was all a game,’ when the police questioned him. ‘Ask the husband, he knows, he was watching,’ quoted the lover. ‘His voice dry and matter of fact as if he was inconvenienced by my questioning,’ Detective Munro said during a press conference.”
“How is this news?” I threw the paper across the room. “Is that all they can write about? What’s news about a woman finding pleasure in having a lover and her husband watching them in bed?” I murmured to myself. What’s the world coming to?
Maybe it’s the dead part that people find distasteful and newsworthy.
Then a thought crossed my mind, this woman can be me in a few more years if I don’t do something besides wake up in the morning, get dress, and wait for Max to summon me. Maybe he’ll come tonight, maybe tomorrow, who knows. I’m a perfect candidate for the front page:
Wife of billionaire Maximillian Blackstone arrested for Flogging her naked lover and holding him as a Sex slave: “I haven’t had sex with my husband in months and my nerves were on edge. The sexiest man alive has traded me in for an even younger woman. I’m barely twenty-four, and because of lack of serious sex, and boredom, I found a lover I could handcuff to my bed and flog him senseless if he didn’t perform,” Mrs. Blackstone confessed to the detective. News at eleven.
That would make for great headlines if I had nothing to live for, but I do.
It’s raining in New York and I’m looking down on Central Park. What am I doing here anyway? It was my stupid idea to move here. I must be crazy. I convinced Max that I would be happier in a city. I see him during dinner when the children are awake, sometimes. After that, your guess is as good as mine when the next time he’ll show his face. And a gorgeous face at that. It has been two days since he came home and called. I know he has an apartment a block away that he uses for sleep. I promised him I wouldn’t cling. He has been under pressure with Charles making bids on his properties and he not wanting to sell.
After Max broke up my wedding to Charles, Charles hasn’t forgiven me or him.
I leaned forward looking out with my legs extended on the chaise lounge, trying to count all the people walking. The fog is rising obscuring my view. They’re little dots like ants.
I was happy when Max asked to marry me. I married him because I loved him and he understood my rebellious nature. I’m beginning to think that the only reason he married me was because of the children and he couldn’t accept losing me to Charles, or want anyone to have me.
He can be like that with people and things he desires—like his properties and me. I guess he considers me his property; me, the children, and the dog. He’s like a child with toys. He doesn’t want anyone to play with his toys, even though he will not play with them. He hides his favorite toy in the closet and maybe pulls it out when he tires of it or stumbles on it by mistake.
That reminds me, we’re running out of toys and lubricant, not for the children, but for us.
That’s me—Alexander Bishop Blackstone, his Dom for the day, wife for a lifetime, and who the hell knows what the next minute. All I know is he hasn’t been in me for a week. This coming from a man who likes to possess my mouth every day, initiate a light spanking, and give me hard penetration at least every other day, but now it has been months since we had old fashioned vanilla sex. And it’s been a month since he even mention the bondage thing, where he’s naked wearing a blindfold. Or is it me wearing a blindfold? I forget, it has been that long.
I feel like a caged bird. I want to fly. I turn and look and in scurries my little dog, and he jumps on my lap. He bought us a miniature dog, a Havanese, because he knew we would be left alone. It was Max’s way of giving us something to do to keep me and the children occupied. The poor little thing thinks I’m his mother. He has serious separation issues. I told Max that it was too soon to take it from his mother.
Max said, ‘Disappointments and pain was in everyone’s future.’ Just because he and Jonas lost their parents early is no reason to deny the puppy his experience with his mother. Max just looked at me with his dark brooding hooded eyes and said, ‘It is what it is. It’s done.’ What he meant by that is left to interpretation. I’d say he was back to his old controlling indifferent behavior.
The little puppy will probably have issues, like I have issues, and like Max and Jonas have issues. That reminds me I need to make an appointment to see a therapist. It was my idea to consult a sex therapist this time for me and Max. Our relationship is suffering because I had children. Max had this problem before. Something about seeing me as a mother instead of his sex partner.
The little dog is nuzzling up to me and sucking my finger. He thinks it’s his mother’s tit. I’d better feed him. The children will be getting up soon.
The rain stopped and the nanny took Maxim and our baby Jack short for Jackson out to the park to play with the other rich overprotected children. I’m surprised that Max even allowed it. He finally gave in when I explained to him that they would be misfits if they didn’t have time to play with children their own ages.
He suggested that we go back to his ranch in Montana where they could have horses and dogs. ‘Children learn a lot from animals,’ he had said. I wouldn’t hear of the idea and he brought in a lovely honey brown and white miniature puppy. I didn’t want the quiet of Montana because I felt that Max wanted to isolate me. We always had divergent opinions. He wanted a rural life, I wanted urban, and now never the twain shall meet.
Our personalities always clashed. I think now we are staying together because of the children. I hope not.
It’s time for Hava to go out. We both need fresh air. I grab a blue jean jacket and toss it over my shoulders to compliment my worn jeans and white tee shirt. I clutched the leash in my hands and tugged on it and the dog trailed behind, and when we were out the door, he scampered in front of me, heading for the elevator. It took time for the elevator to get to our floor because the penthouse is twenty-five floors up.
Max said that I should take our private elevator, but I squashed that idea. It was enough to have to isolate myself in this gigantic apartment building, but not see the few tenants that come through here, now that would be pure hell. So I opted for the elevator where I could at least meet someone. It has been months and still I get on the common elevator alone.
Finally the elevator stopped. I was full of anticipation. The door opened and all I saw was this gorgeous undeniable handsome man standing in front of me. He had on a pair of faded jeans and a white shirt and soft brown leather jacket. He was all of six two, with a wicked gaze and the bluest eyes. It was like looking into an endless ocean. His hair ruffled as if he passed his fingers through or some woman had raked her hands through it when they were in bed and he never bothered to comb it. He strutted to the side to make room for me. I smiled inward knowing what I could do to him.
I would handcuff him to his bed, sit on his face and take a hand full of that beautiful shiny black hair and yank all that long dark curly hair as he gave me an orgasm. Then I would have turned around and faced that hard dick, because by now it must be hard, and put my full mouth over his penis and sucked the come from his gorgeous body. I would leave him weak where he couldn’t move. Then we…I caught myself dreaming about that handsome man. Max was driving me crazy with his sexual neglect.
Max started me on this road to mind blowing sex and now that’s all I can think about.
Since I’ve been with Max, I find myself daydreaming about men. I gave a small smile and he shot me a nod, with a mischievous curl of his lip raising on the right of his face.
His smile lit up my body and made me feel alive. “Beautiful dog,” he said to me. I stepped into the elevator locked on his eyes and was caught by surprised by his strong soft and easy voice. It had a melody to it as if he could talk you to sleep. A bedroom voice.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful dog.” I was caught by surprise when I heard a woman’s voice. I looked to the side and near him with his wide chest and taut body hiding her, a woman about twenty stood punching the button incessantly to get the elevator to close.
“Something is wrong with this elevator. It always takes us to the top floor,” she said. He gave her a passive glance, her eyes lowered. “When are you going to get me a dog? I want one just like that,” she purred at him. And she stepped to the right side of the handsome man and grabbed his hand. I stood in front of them and I could feel his eyes trailing down my back causing chills to explode over me. I wanted to run but there was no place to go. Sweat accumulated under my arms, and warmth pooled between my legs.
I thought I was only attracted to Max but this man registered off the scale. “Do you live here?” he asked, his voice deep and sensual.
The pretty model who was about six feet looked him in the eyes and then her glance turned to me with contempt and she said, “Can’t you see she’s an employee. You are embarrassing her.”
I went along with the folly and the blond with the expensive clothes and Chanel purse. “I work for the Blackstone’s. I’m their sometime nanny and dog walker,” I said with a smirk. The model with the highly developed cheek bones, long legs, and skinny frame said, “See I told you.” And she felt very satisfied with herself.
When the door opened, I stepped out. I could feel those steel blue eyes ravishing me, I lowered my head, and his girlfriend trailed behind me. The doorman wasn’t sitting at his desk. He took his break early but the cameras were filming. I was glad he wasn’t sitting there because I didn’t want him to blow my cover by calling me Mrs. Blackstone.
I felt satisfied in my deception.
Opening the glass door, I made a sigh of relief after I got clear of that hot body. I put the dog down and the little dog stopped at a garbage basket to sniff it. That gave me the opportunity to turn my gaze to my left just slightly, catching sight of his confident alluring stride, his black limo parked at the curb and the driver standing near the open door. The model slid in and he looked my way and our eyes connected. I lowered my head trying not to be too obvious but I felt it and I know he did too. He smiled entering the limo, but that smile was for me, not the model.
I knew that look too well.
I couldn’t function for thinking about him. I took the dog to the park and watched his aimless pursuit of squirrels. Heading back home, down Park Avenue, I stopped off at the deli to buy Max a tin of caviar. He liked having a snack before dinner and wine. He needed his gold or crystal spoon to eat it along with roasted potatoes. I never could get use to those fish eggs.
“A five ounce tin of your finest Osetra caviar,” I said to Ralph.
“Sure thing. It just so happen we have it today, grade one golden,” he smiled pointing to the five hundred dollar tin of Russian caviar.
“Your employer makes you pick up his snack food?” I stiffened. I recognized the voice. It belonged to that impossible handsome man with the expensive jeans, expensive jacket, expensive white shirt, expensive shoes, expensive face, and expensive smile. I don’t know why he made me nervous but he did. Could it be because I was afraid that I could fall for him? The answer was a straight out yes. I could fall naked all over him and especially on that handsome face.
“I volunteered,” I said turning around meeting his sexy gaze with a raised eyebrow, and I turned back to Ralph who stood waiting patiently behind the counter and said, “Put it on the bill.”
“Sure thing,” Ralph said to me.
I spun around with a stern face looking him in his impossible blue eyes and said, “What are you doing, following me?” He didn’t answer for a moment. He looked at me from my feet on up and said, “I would follow you to the ends of the earth and then back again.” That did it. This was getting too strange.
“I don’t think we have any more to say to each other.” He just stared at me with a secretive smile which made him the second hottest man alive. After getting my package, I rushed out and he headed behind me.
He stood in front of me, “You know we recognize our own.” What did he mean by that? I asked myself. What did he recognize about me that I didn’t already know? That I was over sexed and didn’t know it until I met Max? That I was desperate for that feeling again and that I wasn’t getting any lately.
“I don’t know what you mean and you are wrong on all fronts if you think I know what you’re talking about,” I said to him and hurried along with my dog in my hand and my package in the other. He had me so nervous that I rushed to my apartment, nodded at the doorman who made his appearance and now was sitting behind his desk smiling at me.
“Hello Mrs. Blackstone. Nice weather we’re having.” Clearly he hadn’t seen the downpour and the gray skies that was signaling that summer was over. I looked around and there was no sign of my stalker. I rushed into the penthouse elevator at the far end of the lobby and hurriedly put my key and code in and slipped into the safety of my home.
Barnes and Nobel, Apple ITunes, Kobo, Smashwords, Amazon, Google, and All ERomance books.