I never thought this day would come.

I wanted to give up on her so many times. I almost did. But with each day that passed, she haunted me, whispering in my ear to finish.

The complexity of the story and the characters wasn’t the only thing that hindered me from finishing two years ago, but it was my own personal connection to it as well. I won’t go into detail because there are just certain things in my life that I refuse to share, but if there was ever a story that was ever closest to my heart it’s this one.


I’m excited to finally announce, after two and half long years, Sylvie is now LIVE!!!





Will she ever find a way to overcome the guilt?

The anger.

The pain.

Healing seems impossible.

Moving on…


Until him.

He’s the only one who can save her.

But it comes with a heavy price.



The light in the bathroom is bright, revealing the dark shadows coloring the skin beneath my eyes. Even good makeup can’t conceal what I’m trying to hide, the pain that is locked away with the mountain of regret. My worst enemy is my memory, reminding me every single day of the chances I didn’t take and the decisions I waited too long to make.

The knot in my throat is tight, and I just can’t seem to swallow past it today.

God, will I ever be able to go a day without crying?

Turning away from the mirror I press my back to the wall, trying to stifle a runaway sob. But they rack my body in relentless waves of grief and despair. I ride it out, until I feel a little bit of the weight ease from my shoulders.

But it’s only temporary. The heaviness is back with a vengeance when I look in the mirror once more. I can’t escape it. No matter how hard I try.

Wiping my nose, I dry my eyes. Grateful my small breakdown hadn’t been worse.

Usually, once I start, it’s nearly impossible to stop.

I stand facing the mirror as I release my blonde hair from a ponytail then pull it neatly back in place, a meager attempt to conceal the evidence of my consuming misery.

It’s a wasted effort.

I’m still a mess.

Feeling only slightly better, I make my way back out front, refill several glasses and serve another table before noting the hostess has seated a new customer in my section.

I retrieve my pen and pad from my apron as I make my way over. “Hey there, what can I…” I blink, my brain and heart still trying to play catch-up while a flock of butterflies take flight in my belly.

Am I dreaming?


He smiles.

A smile I haven’t seen in a long, long time, and it’s such a welcome sight. Tears burn behind my eyes, and I swear my heart damn near stops altogether when he stands from the table.


My name is like a solemn vow, wholesome and pure, tugging at the strings of my stumbling heart. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his strong arms, and I immediately sag against him, soaking up his warmth.

I steal a moment of comfort in his arms and his familiar scent has me struggling to let go.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, forcing myself to release him.

Guilt gnaws at my stomach, remembering the hateful words I’d said to him the last time we saw each other. Linc and I were once best friends. We told each other everything. But we haven’t spoken in over a year and even though there was still so much left unsaid, it was as if he never really left.

His brown hair is a little longer but it looks good on him. A light dusting of scruff covers his sharp jaw, making him appear rugged and hard, but his soft green eyes remind me of his kind heart and kindred spirit.

His warm smile slowly fades, and that’s when I notice the pain in his eyes. “Mama has cancer,” he says softly.

I fall to the chair next to me, my knees unsteady from the blow of this devastating news. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Linc.”

He takes the seat across from me. “Doc says her chances are really good. They caught it early, but her treatment will be aggressive, so she’s got a long road ahead.”

I cover his hand with my own, a sharp pang piercing my chest. He lost his father when he was seventeen. His mother is all he’s ever had; it would kill him if he lost her, too. “Please let me know what I can do to help. I had no idea she was sick. I…I haven’t seen Gwynn in a while. I should go visit.”

He smiles again, but this time it’s weak, sad. “She’d love that,” he says. “She misses you and Caroline.”

I miss you, too.

He doesn’t say the words out loud but he doesn’t have to. Those eyes of his tell me more than I care to know. We’ve always had a way of communicating without speaking.

A smile.

A touch.

A look.

He knows me in ways no man does. Or ever will. There’s a heavy amount of comfort in that but there’s also an incredible amount of guilt.

I stand, eager to put some distance between us. “What can I get you to drink?”

He clears his throat. “Sweet tea.”

“Comin’ right up.”

I feel his eyes on me as I move through the tables. I cash out one of my customers and refill a few glasses before eventually pouring his glass of tea.

My skin prickles all over as I approach. “Have you decided what you want yet?” I pull my order pad from the pocket of my apron.

Linc pins me with his sharp, unforgiving eyes. “Yeah, I know what I want, Sylvie.”

“What’ll it be?” I ask, my voice just as shaky as my hands.


“This isn’t just a love story…it’s a journey.”


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Read a sample (first 6 chapters) on iTunes!

PRE-ORDER for February 17, 2017!!!






Ring in the New Year with Brothers in Blue!! 💙💙

It’s official!!!

Book #2 of the Brothers in Blue series is NOW LIVE!!! I’m so excited to share Reid and Cassidy’s story with you!!!





trust; firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.
LAPD Detective Reid Cunningham is content to keep the pain of losing his best friend buried deep. Dedicated to his job, he doesn’t have time to feel.

Much less love.

But when the past comes knocking at his door, he has no choice but to face his deepest and darkest fear.

Cassidy Sky, his best friend’s little sister, needs his help. Reid promised to watch over her and keep her safe, but he never planned on giving her his heart.

Or his trust.

Excerpt #1

We’d only been on the road for half an hour but you could cut the tension with a knife. To think when I woke up this morning, I was completely high on this man, but right now I wanted to choke the shit out of him.

I learned pretty quickly that Reid Cunningham was not a morning person. He needed at least two cups of coffee before he should be allowed to interact with humans.

Plus, I was pretty sure he was still pissed about what I was wearing. He’d asked me twice to change before we left the hotel, but I’d refused and that didn’t help his extreme level of grouchiness whatsoever. But I could care less how he felt about my attire. If the only words he was going to utter to me were demands then he could go straight to hell.

I didn’t see what the big deal was. It was just a romper. When I left Florida for California, I’d packed light—sundresses and rompers. Cute and comfy. That was my style. I’d brought along a denim jacket to ward off any chill but it wasn’t necessary. Just being in the same car with him made me hot.

And not in a good way.

I wasn’t sure which part he hated the most. The ruffled eyelet hem that grazed my upper thighs or the top half, which was low-cut with spaghetti straps. My breasts were small enough I didn’t have to wear a bra. The anger in his eyes only intensified when his eyes drifted to either. Sure, it showed a lot of skin, but I wanted him to look.

I wanted him to eat his stubborn heart out.

I wanted him to regret the way he treated me this morning when we woke up. He’d given me the cold shoulder, only giving me short, one-word answers, and even though I’d asked twice more, he still wouldn’t tell me why the hell we were driving all the way to Texas.

“Are you going to be like this all day?”

“Like what?” he grumbled.

“Like you’re pissed at the world.”

He muttered under his breath before pulling over on the side of the road and getting out of the car. I watched him pace back and forth before I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door.

I’d barely made it out when he snapped. “Get back in the car.”

Slamming the door, I walked toward him. “No, I want to know what your problem is.”

“Nothing. Get your ass back in the car. Now.”

“Stop barking orders at me. I’m not a fucking dog.”

He stopped pacing and fixed his eyes on me. “I do not treat you like a dog.”

“Yes, you do. You ordered me to change clothes. You won’t tell me why we’re going to Texas. You just expect me to do whatever the hell you say. And you won’t talk to me about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“We spent the night together.”



He exhaled a long, frustrated sigh, dragging the palm of his hand through his hair. “I told you before, the only thing I can offer you is protection.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re one of those guys.”


“The asshole who acts like an asshole because he thinks he’s not worthy enough, has too many demons to battle, and feels the need to fight them alone.”

“You hit the nail on the head, baby. I’m exactly that guy. And I’m going to lay it all out for you, I’m not the guy for you.”

“But you want me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Listen, I’m not trying to be a dick.

“Too late for that,” I tossed out, folding my arms across my chest.

“Fine, then I’m a dick, but at least I’m an honest dick.”

“You’re not being honest. You want me; you’re just too chickenshit to admit it.”

“Get in the damn car,” he said, stalking toward it. “I’m tired of arguing with you on the side of the damn road.”

“God, why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Why do you have to be so goddamn beautiful?”

He didn’t mean to say it. I could tell by the shocked expression that slipped over his face, but he’d admitted it all the same.

I blinked. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

I smiled. “But a beautiful brat?”

“Get your beautiful, bratty ass in the car. Please.”

“Holy cheese, he said please!’”

Once inside, he blew out a heavy breath and fixed his eyes on mine. “I do want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but I would only hurt you, Cass. I—I can’t be what you need.”

“You don’t know what I need.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Excerpt #2

Once we were inside, I moved to the bed closest to the door and began emptying my pockets on the nightstand while Cassidy snatched up her bag with a huff and went straight into the bathroom.

When she walked out a few moments later, I knew for sure God was punishing me.

“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked, my dick hardening against my zipper.

She looked down at her chest, a grin smarting that sassy mouth of hers. “A shirt.”

One finger curled at the hem of my favorite Yankees shirt I’d had packed in my bag, the ball of her foot twisting in place while she licked her lips.

Teasing me.

Luring me to the edge of a very steep cliff.

I wanted to know what that finger tasted like. No doubt it tasted as sweet as she smelled.

Like goddamn candy.

The kind you have to suck the sour to get to the sweet.

Every part of me wanted to devour every inch of her. Not to mention how good she would look underneath me. The images funneled through my mind in quick succession, one after the other. The countless ways I could make her mine. But the guilt still remained. Nestled somewhere between want and need.

I wanted her, but she needed my help.

I promised Bodie.

Desire gnawed at my resolve, but I stayed rooted in place. Her dark eyes peeked up at me as she made her way over, determination heavy in her gaze. “You don’t like my shirt?”

“It’s mine,” I growled.

“I know.” She stopped in front of me, reaching for my hand and placing it between her legs. “And so is this.” Standing on her tiptoes, her lips brushed my cheek, breath hot in my ear. “If you want it.”

The heat of her pussy paired with the damp fabric between her legs snapped my pathetic control. Leaning down, I captured her lips, her pliant body sagging against mine. My promise to Bodie was washed away as her taste flooded my mouth, a hint of tequila mixed with lime and a pound of need that rivaled my own. There was no more pain, no more guilt.


Raising my other hand, I brought it to the back of her neck, gently grasping the strands of her soft, silky hair before giving them a hard tug. Her head fell back with a gasp, breaking our heated kiss, and my mouth descended on her neck with greed, my fingers stroking over her wet panties.

“I want to take you here and now,” I told her.

“Reid, please. I’m begging you.”

“What do you want, Cassidy? And you better be very specific.”

She moved her hand to my cock, stroking and squeezing me through the rough denim of my jeans. “This specific enough for you?”

Her words fell on a whisper, stripping away any remaining hope of ever escaping what I knew deep down had been inevitable all along.

To celebrate the release of The Detective’s Trust, I’m having giving away the following on my Author page:

-Paperback copy of The Detective’s Trust
-Paperback copy of The Officer’s Promise
-A police bangle (see photo in comments)
-2 $10 Amazon Gift Cards

I will choose 5 winners on Sunday, January 1, 2017!!!


The Detective’s Trust (Brothers in Blue #2)
Amazon US
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Amazon CA
iBooks, B&N, Kobo

***99 CENTS for a LIMITED TIME***
The Officer’s Promise (Brothers in Blue #1)
iBooks, B&N, Kobo



Start a conversation

Tomorrow marks the one-year bookversary of Unlawful Justice, a book that ultimately changed my life forever. Writing this story forced me to not only to take a good hard look at the world around me but within myself too.

To say it was enlightening is an understatement.

Now with last week’s election, it’s forced me to look even deeper. If there were ever a time this story needed to be told, it’s now. Naturally, people are afraid of what they don’t know, what they don’t understand, or what is different. The only way that is ever going to change is by having an honest conversation about it.

But we have to be willing to LISTEN.

Not just with our minds, but with our hearts.


We hope that you will set aside your fear and pick up this book.

Give it a chance. Read it. Start a conversation.

Do it for yourself.

Do it for your children.

Do it for our future.

If you have read Unlawful Justice, please comment and let us know how it impacted your life.

Thank you for your continued support.

Peace & Love,


Unlawful Justice 

Seek the truth and you will find justice.

The peaceful town of Harmony Falls, Texas, has been rocked to its core by an unspeakable crime.

One that harbors revenge and injustice.

Schoolteacher Olivia Bradshaw can’t remember what happened that horrific night, but it’s easy to see the effect it’s had on those around her. All she wants is for peace to be restored to her beloved hometown, but Deputy Grayson Taylor is on a different mission. He seeks truth and justice, and he’ll do whatever it takes to find both for Olivia.

Lines will be crossed.

Secrets revealed.

Can justice prevail, or will the citizens of Harmony Falls succumb to the corruption and hate that continues to plague their small town?

iBooks, Barnes & Noble, Kobo 


Everyone’s journey is different.

I would like to preface this post with the fact that the information I am about to share is based on my experience as a self-published independent author. While I am a professional, I am in no way an expert.

The advice given is based purely on mistakes and lessons learned. I feel like it is my obligation as your peer to share my knowledge.

PS: If you don’t like the word fucking or foul language of any kind, you probably shouldn’t read the rest of this post.

Or any of my books.


I like to keep shit really real.

You’ve been warned.

Everyone’s journey is different

We don’t all arrive at the same destination the same exact way. We’re all coming from different directions. We all travel down different roads. We all have different goals. Face different challenges. All we can do is navigate the best we can. Learn from our own mistakes, those of others, and move on. We all want to find our place and relevance in the vastly growing indie world and I can assure you it can be done. It might not be overnight. It might take a hell of a lot longer than you anticipated. But if  you stay the course, true to yourself, and loyal to your purpose…you can succeed.

So here are few tips to help you along the way.


Get a good fucking editor-You’ve probably read that more than once. When I first started out I read it too. But like a dumbass, I didn’t listen. I cut corners, trying to save money and you know what? I paid dearly for it. Get someone who knows what the hell they are doing. A professional. Someone who will make your words shine. The price you pay for a good editor is soooo worth it.

You gotta have thick fucking skin-Publishing ain’t for sissies. I wish I could say everything I write is gold. But it’s not. There’s an old saying:

Two people never read the same book.

Well, it’s true. And anytime someone doesn’t like my stories, or I get a bad review, I remind myself of that. It’s inevitable and completely unavoidable, you’re going to have people who don’t like your work. That’s just the way it is. Get over it. Not everyone loves bananas either. I fucking hate bananas. But just keep doing your thing and don’t sweat the haters. Let it fuel you to work that much harder.

Support your fucking peers-This is not a competition. It’s not a race to see who can get to the top first. If it is for you then I suggest you reevaluate why you published to begin with. Encourage others to do their best. Build them up. Help them along their journey. I’m sure there is someone, somewhere who has helped you at some point in your life. Remember how that made you feel and give that feeling back.

Read, read, and read some fucking more-Nothing pains me more than when I see an author that says they no longer read or don’t have time to read. Read your genre. Read authors who intimidate you. Read new authors. Old authors. Let them challenge you to be the best damn writer you can be.

One of my favorite authors, Stephen King once said:

If you want to be a writer you must do two things above all others: Read a lot and write a lot.

He’s a wise man. Listen to him. Listen to me. We create new and vibrant art by the art we see and read.


Know your fucking purpose-Sometimes it’s easy to be sucked into the drama. Misery loves company. Misery is one ugly bitch. Stay away from negative people. People who tear others down to make themselves feel or look better. It’s likely if they are doing that to others, they will eventually do that to you.

Don’t be a fucking dick-I know it’s hard (pun intended) because there are dicks and assholes everywhere who just love to smear their negative bullshit all around but do not engage. I repeat…DO NOT ENGAGE. It only leads to you being a dick and two dicks do not make a right.

Might make a damn good story though. 😉

Be a fucking unicorn-Nobody else can be you. You can’t be anybody else. Remember when I said everyone has their own journey? I meant that shit. You can’t get to where you going by taking someone else’s road. Stay in your own lane. Be true to yourself and know your purpose. That is the only way to survive this journey with dignity and grace.

That’s all I have for now but give me a few more years to make more mistakes and I’ll have more to give back.

In the meantime, keep writing your motherfucking stories and don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.

Just do your own thing.

Peace & Love,


Edited to note: I did not have this piece professionally edited.

Do as I say. Not as I do. 😉