I Luv Nate Diaz
There, I said it. My family already knows and they’re fine with it, because they love Nate and Nick Diaz too.
That’s why I took a little bit of Nate’s “I don’t give a fuck, just gimme my check” personality for the lead male in this upcoming novella:
The TAKEDOWN – the rocky romance of two MMA fighters who come up against an opponent neither one of them are prepared for.
The Takedown is a book that features several other characters from ebooks I’ve written, like Derek and Nicole from The Stone Boy, Ethan and Torii from At Last, among others. I’ll have a free extended excerpt up on Amazon as my
March Madness final four.
I’ve got a number of other books that I’d readying for release, so I’m not able to blog as often as I’d like until I get these other stories published that are much longer reads.
Excerpt from The Takedown:
Didn’t I blow your mind this time . . .
Sly kept playing with my hand. “Why’d you start calling yourself ‘The Bastard?’ ”
“I didn’t chose it. It’s what I’ve been called ever since I was a kid.” I changed my voice to imitate Jelly’s. “Killian, you little fookin’ bastard.”
“Oh, so if you say it, then it can’t hurt you, huh? So you’ve turned the tables and made it into a badge of honor.” That was the thing about Sly. She was wise beyond her years, especially when she added, “But that’s a shitty label to stick on a kid. If you don’t mind I’m not gonna call you that.”
“You might end up using it,” I mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Not unless you’re planning on doing something to make me call you that. Is that what you’re saying?
“I’ve been told the name suits me.”
“So you’ve decided to live up to it? Or, excuse me, are you’re gonna live down to acting like a bastard?”
I rubbed at my temples. This conversation was starting to give me a headache. “Are we gonna fuck again or not?” After her sharp intake of breath I expected to hear a ton of profanity directed my way. Instead she just stared at me real hard, and I mean really hard. I blinked first. “Ay, you know I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
“I think you already know my answer.”
“Aw come on, Sly.”
“No, you come on. I thought you were ready for me, but you’re not.” She slipped out of bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress with her back to me. All it did was give me a real good look at her fine brown apple bottom. “It’s cool though,” she sniffed, as if last night never happened. “I won’t go storming off like some little bitch. I’m gonna use your bathroom and then I’ll take a taxi home.”
“What if I don’t want you to go?”
She turned to face me. “Then act like it. If you want me, you gotta let me know. I can’t read your mind. And I won’t be just another one of your-your little fuck bunnies. I want more . . . so you need to let me know right now if you can man up. Or not.”
I pulled her to me, cradling my palm against the nape of her neck. The kiss I planted on her was wet and long, and deep, like I wanted to suck her soul out of her body. When we came up for air we were both panting. This woman sent shivers up my spine just by looking at me. “Still think I don’t want you?”
“I’m not talking about sex, Killian. You’ve got that covered. I-” Instead of finishing her thought, she just shook her head. “I don’t want you to change, not really. You’re a great guy and I’m sure there’s a girl out there in your living room more than ready to take my place.”
Wait, was she blowing me off? Yes she was. She was blowing me off! Instead of answering I was so pissed that I just leaned against the headboard, wanting to bash my head against it several times. I needed a drink. Or some weed. Maybe both.
“It’s not fair to you, because I-” she paused, then said it all in one breath. “I went into this knowing that we’re complete opposites. Your lifestyle is an open book. And your friends . . . well, they’re your friends. They were here long before I came around.”
I tilted my head, signaling that I was all ears. There was something she wasn’t telling me, that much I knew. Maybe we were fighting the obvious. “Let’s back this thing up.”
Her raised eyebrow told me that my choice of words could be taken several ways. “No, I’m not talking about that. I’m suggesting that we take it slow. We-we could go on a date or something. How ‘bout I take you out to dinner? I know our schedules are gonna get even crazier in the next few weeks, but I want this. I want us to make it.”
She looked shocked, followed by a cough that sounded like a cat barfing up a hairball. “A-A date? You wanna take me on a date?”
“Not just one date. I wanna date you. You know, like regular people do. I wanna be your man.”
“Aw hell Sly, what do you take me for? Some bonehead who doesn’t realize the best thing that’s ever happened to me is you?”
I could tell I’d just blown her mind. Damn, that shit felt good!
~~~~~End of Excerpt~~~~~
And here’s a brief excerpt from the At Last II: Sex and the Single Paraplegic Male:
Because Ethan was an artist, she thought it was some sort of handmade canopy hanging over their bed. But after seeing it up close, it was a cross between a leather hammock and an airborne gynecologist’s table.
“Baby, what is this . . . apparatus?”
Ethan had a megawatt grin on his face. “It’s a sex swing.”
Well . . . things just got a whole lot more interesting. Torii walked around the bed, pulling and poking at the leather harness and all the other binds that could be used to support her. The chains seemed sturdy enough, but the section for her bare butt looked too small. Or maybe that was for her head? What the hell, it would be fun figuring all this out.
“Does this thing come with a manual?”
He wiggled his brows. “A manual and an instructional DVD.”
“Ha! At least I already know where to put my feet.”
“Yeah, these metal stir-ups were extra.” Ethan gave them a pat, admiring the build as if he were looking over a sporty new car. He wheeled his chair back her way. “I thought we could have fun playing doctor.”
Torii cupped her hands over her mouth, changing her voice to sound like a public address system full of static. “Paging Doctor Forchè, paging Doctor Forchè. Your patient needs immediate medical attention,” she joked. “Ooh! I need to put on some Marvin Gaye. Gotta have some ‘sexual healing’ to set the mood.” She began humming the tune and rubbing her hip against his shoulder, hoping he’d get the hint.
Instead he was like a kid with a new toy, excitedly showing her how the swing could be used either manually or motorized. “It just depends how fast and how hard we want it.”
The thought of banging into him going twenty miles an hour made her cringe. “Okay . . . but what about right now? How about a quickie before I head back to work-”
He motioned his head toward the swing. “Climb on up the stairway to heaven.”
“Let’s just do it old skol for now.” Plopping on his lap, she nuzzled his neck and his ear. “All these new sex toys are nice, but I kinda miss the simple things we used to do.”
Letting out a weary sigh, he patted her thigh in solidarity. “Yeah, I miss those days too.”
Oh God. She’d gone and spoiled the moment again.
~~~~~End of Excerpt~~~~~