She cupped my face, her eyes eating me up. “I’m happy, too.” She sighed. “Is it always like this? Like I just went to heaven?”
Smiling, I lay back and pulled her against me. “Never. That’s what happens when soulmates make love.”
I watched her until she drifted off to sleep, amazed she loved me after all the shit I’d put her through. I promised myself that no matter what happened in the future, no matter the rough patches we might come across, I’d never give up on us.
Fate had known all along we were soulmates. Now, I did, too.
COMING WINTER 2014
Briarcrest Academy, Book Two
For more information about whom and what the next book is about,
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ILSA MADDEN-MILLS WROTE her first work at the age of twelve when she penned a little ditty about a handsome prince who had no sense. Since then, she’s written plays, poems, and short stories. Very Bad Things is her first full-length novel and part of a new series called Briarcrest Academy.
She graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in English from an esteemed university in the South where she now resides. She spends her days with two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. When she’s not typing away at a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.
THERE ARE SO many fantastic people in the indie world that made this journey possible. Please know that my gratitude in no way lessens as the list continues.
I’ve always written, whether it was for work or fun. When I was young, I entered every short story and poetry contest I came across; when I was in college, I wrote for the university paper; when I taught English, I wrote a play along with a wonderful group of drama students. I got serious about the craft five years ago when I submitted a 100k paranormal romance manuscript to publishing houses and agents, only to have it rejected time and time again. Beaten down by the difficulty of breaking into traditional publishing, I nearly gave up, but thankfully, my husband wouldn’t let me. As my biggest supporter and motivator, he deserves the most thanks for making Very Bad Things possible. I love him beyond measure.
For my author friend Lisa N. Paul (Lisa Spivak-Paul)—she kept me laughing at myself through our daily phone conversations and emails. I can’t imagine how Very Bad Things would have turned out if she hadn’t run her eagle eyes over it, blurb included! I adore her, and she is my touchstone in the indie world. I can’t wait to see you, Lisa! I’ll be more than just a picture on a stick!
For my author friend Jennifer La Rocca—as my writing partner and sweet friend, she was always there to let me vent. Our sprints together have kept me focused on writing. I can’t wait to see you in Atlanta!
For Lina Bertuzzi and Tabatha VanHorn—two awesome beta readers who listened to me talk about my characters like they were real people. I couldn’t have done this without Lina’s insights into Leo and Nora’s character. And Tabatha, you were my sounding board when I needed advice and guacamole. What else did I need? Kisses and love to you both!
For all the bloggers who were on my street team and took a chance on me—I bow down to you and all the time and hard work you do to get the word out about good books. Stephanie Locke of Rude Girl Blog; Sandy Roman Borrero, Lesley Hoffman, Jennifer Noe of The Book Blog; Maria Barquero of Maria’s Book Blog; Kim Harris of Crazies R US Book Blog; Diana Surgent of Confessions of a Book Heaux; Liz Murach of Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews; Kimberly Kimball of Two Crazy Girls With a Passion for Books; Ann Moore and Carrie Richardson-Horton of My Fictional Boyfriend and Book Whore Page; Stephanie DeLamater Phillips of Stephanie’s Book Reports (who also was my fantastic blog tour organizer); Jennifer Wolfel and Toski Covey of Wolfel’s World of Books; Krista Loya of Breathe in Books; Stacy Nickelson of It Started with Book Blog; Jess Danowski of Inside the Pages of a Book; and many other great blogs who participated in my release event and blog tour. I couldn’t have done it without any of you!
For all the people who sacrificed time to make my cover one of a kind—Toski Covey of Toski Covey Photography, a sweet girl I stumbled across when I admired her work on another novel. She took my ideas and ran with it, making my vision a reality. She blew my mind with her energy and willingness to pay it forward to someone she had never met. She took a chance on me, and I’ll never forget it; Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear who designed my incredible graphics and always answered my one million and one emails; and Mariah Jane, the gorgeous redhead who graces the cover of Very Bad Things. You all rock!
For Kristin Anders of The Romantic Editor—my awesome editor with whom I automatically clicked with. (I know you’re editing this as you read it!) I adore you and can’t wait to work with you again. You loved Nora as much as I did and that meant everything.
For Stephanie DeLamater Phillips of Stephanie’s Book Reports—you and Crystal’s Many Reviews took my blog tour and buzz event and made it fabulous. Thank you so much for being available to chat with me at the drop of a hat. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you!
For Jessica Carter—the best pimpette ever. She organized my street team and kept us on our toes for Teaser Monday. I love this bad-ass girl with all my heart.
For Julie Titus of JT Formatting—one of the best formatters out there! I love what you did for me and Nora. Thank you for being patient and walking me through the steps. I’ll be using you again!
For my Briarcrest Academy Chicks—as my Street Team, you picked me up when I got knocked down, and you made me laugh when I needed it the most. And for the all the serious pimpettes out there, I can’t thank you enough for the time and energy you put into getting the word out: Jessica Carter, Lina Bertuzzi, Jessica Bowman, Jessica Ramirez, Joni Payne, Helena’s Book Obsession, Carrie Richardson-Horton, Kimberly Kimball, Ann McBride, Stephanie DeLamater Phillips, Sandy Roman Borrero, Author Lisa N. Paul (Lisa Spivak-Paul), Jess Danowski, Stacy Nickelson, Author DL Roan, Author Kaylee Ryan, Jenn Diaz, Author Jennifer La Rocca, Kristine Radgman, Wendy Bree Rex, Author DL Roan, Author L. Chapman, Author Missy Johnson, Sue Stewart, and Lisa Rutledge. Lisa, you may be last, but you are definitely not least! Thanks for being my stalker and all the Leo pics! I can’t wait to see you at the next book signing.
For all the awesome people who worked to get my name out there–Kellie Montgomery, Bobbie Jo Malone Kirby, Nicole Blanchard, Cami Hesnault, Kerri Mclaughlin, Lydia Quintana of HEA Book Shelf, and Tabitha Coots of Tabby's Tantalizing Reviews.
If I’ve left anyone out, please forgive me. I promise to make it up in Book 2!
I love you all, girlies!
Seduce by Missy Johnson is now available at
Amazon and all major online retailers.
Twenty-five year old Jack Falcon doesn’t do relationships, and why would he when he has woman after woman literally throwing themselves at him? For Jack, life is perfect just the way it is. He works hard and he plays harder.
Jack’s life changes when he meets Belle. Unlike any woman he’s ever met, there is something about this girl that makes him unable to keep away, something beyond the youthful beauty and her innocent spirit. Belle is strong and independent, a big leap from the usual brainless chicks he tends to attract.
Jack begins a dangerous game. He is determined to seduce Belle, and without realizing it, his feelings for her develop beyond anything he has ever felt before. Things become complicated when he learns there are good reasons as to why he should stay the hell away from her.
How can you stay away from someone you want to spend every waking minute with? And what do you do when you know eventually you will destroy that person?
As their feelings for each other deepen, Jack struggles with his own internal demons which threaten to rip them apart. Jack is torn between following his heart and listening to his head, which keeps telling him he is not good enough for her. She deserves better than what he can give her.
How far
will he push before they both fall over the edge?
Excerpt:
“SURE, UH, CATHERINE. Help yourself,” I said, buckling up my pants. Judging from the expression on her pretty little face, I’d gotten her name wrong. Shit. It was all coming back to me. Catherine was last night. This was Mandy, or Mindy. I reached for her hand, trying to pretend I actually gave a shit.
“Sorry baby, I’m not good with names,” I murmured as I moved closer to her. With my hand gripping her jaw, I tilted her head just enough so that I could run my tongue along her neck. I could feel her annoyance melt away at my touch. “Help yourself to room service, anything you want. I’ll call you when my meeting is finished.”
She rolled over onto her back stretching out her long, lean body as she smiled at me. I wouldn’t be calling her, and I’m sure on some level she knew that. That makes me sound like a dick, but truthfully, she had gotten just as much out of the night as I had. I’d made her feel like she was the only girl in the world for me, when really, there were dozens just like her who were ready to jump in my bed. I made no secret about who I was or what I wanted, and honestly, any woman willing to go home with me knew what to expect.
I was Britain’s most eligible bachelor, the youngest son of property magnate Eric Falcon. My reputation with women was well documented in all the gossip pages in every magazine, one of which only last week stated I gave more respect to my pet cat than I did to the many women I dated.
What can I say? I love my cat.
Really, I’m not as bad as my reputation makes me out to be. In fact, I’d go as far to describe myself as a decent guy. I just have no interest in a relationship that extends beyond a quick fuck when it suits me. I really don’t see how it’s my fault or problem if a chick falls for my boyish charms. Every woman seems to think she can change me, that she has something all the other notches on my belt didn’t have. They’re usually the ones that hang around too long, fall in love with me end up stalking me (I’ve only once had to employ a restraining order).
The thing is, I’m happy being me and I sure as fuck won’t change for anyone. I don’t need fixing because I'm not broken. I simply work hard and play harder. Things are great. I was exactly where I wanted to be at Twenty-Five years old.
I EXITED THE lift on the ground floor of The Briston, home to one of the many flats I owned around London. This particular residence was one I specifically used for entertaining. I avoided taking women home whenever possible, mainly because I wanted to keep things as impersonal as possible. And secondly, because excessive female company upset Mr. Jefferies.
I wasn’t kidding about the cat.
You’d be forgiven for not picking me as the cat type. Mr. Jefferies had been part of my life for two years, after I found him in a drain pipe behind my building as a wet, shivering kitten. Initially I had just planned to drop him off at the shelter, but after three days living it up with Jack Falcon, it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. The newspaper probably wasn’t far off, I do treat Mr. Jefferies with more respect than some of the women I date, but in his defence he’s worked for it, whereas they haven’t.
Dropping to your knees before you’ve even told me your name doesn’t gain you my respect. All that does is make me want to treat you like the piece of shit you obviously consider yourself to be. If you’ve got no respect for yourself, then why should you expect it from me? It sounded harsh, but sometimes the truth hurts.
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Thursday Nights is now available at
Amazon and other ebook retailer sites
Pain can leave even the strongest of people weak and hollow. But when fate brings two weak souls together, will the love they find mend the fragments that are barely holding them together, or will the weight of their past finally cause them to crumble? Max DeLucca has spent seven years trying to forget the betrayal of his past. He lives his life from day to day never looking forward and never looking back. The walls around his heart keep anyone from getting too close and prevent him from feeling too much…until he meets her. Her entire life, Janie Silver searched for the kind of love that wouldn’t leave her broken and more importantly, wouldn't leave her behind. She longs for a love that can heal the wounds of her past and give her the future she knows she deserves. She thought she was looking for something that just didn’t exist…until she meets him. Danny’s on Main is where their story begins. A neighborhood bar where strangers become friends, friends become family and some … become lovers … it all started on Thursday Nights
*Warning – this book is intended for mature audiences only. Descriptive sexual situations are included in this story.
**This sexy, steamy contemporary romance will leave you yearning for more. Which is perfect since this is the first book in the Charistown series. Even though this is a series, each book can be read as a standalone novel.
Seven Years Earlier
IT WAS TIME to start moving on.
It had been six months since Max found out his wife had been cheating on him, again, and was having a baby with the bastard. Six months since she’d left him standing in the driveway, watching her leave. Six months since her car was sideswiped, and the woman he had spent more than ten years loving, was killed. He hated what she’d done to him; but he’d spent those months mourning the loss of the life he knew and the woman he loved. No more.
Max slid his feet into his boots and headed for the kitchen. Swiping his keys and wallet off the counter, he opened the door to his apartment and came face-to-face with his deceased wife’s parents. Two people who had hated him for years.
“Oh, Max…” Mrs. Smyth stammered, “We were just about to knock.”
Through the anxious and claustrophobic feeling overwhelming him, Max found his voice, “I was just heading out for the night. Is there something I can do for you?”
Mr. Smyth looked down at him with sad but serious eyes, “Just a half hour of your time…please, Max.”
Being six foot three, there were few people taller than Max, but Mr. Smyth was one of them. Back in the day, he swore that his father-in-law loved looking down on him in more ways than just physically. Max’s mind was reeling, the man had even said please. He didn’t want to be with these people, but his curiosity kept him standing still. What could they possibly have to say that he’d want to hear? Yet, how could he say no to the only thing they had ever asked of him?
Max nodded and led his former in-laws into the main room of his new apartment. He paced the floor, making a path on the newly laid carpet as he tried to contain his breath, and steeled himself for the reason of their surprise visit.
“Max,” said Mrs. Smyth, or Gina, as she now insisted on being called. “We know you probably don’t have anything to say to us. Lord knows you probably don’t want to hear anything we have to say… but we’ve been trying to get in touch with you for almost six months.”
He stopped pacing and looked at the woman who stood in front of him. Her platinum hair was perfectly coiffed and her designer clothes, professionally pressed. The diamonds in her ears and on her left hand were probably worth more than what he made in a year. She was the model image of what money could buy, but when his gaze traveled up to her face he saw that time had not been kind. Gina looked tired and old; the deep purple smudges under her eyes spoke of the sleepless nights Max himself knew so well.
“You have my attention, Gina,” Max said with a little too much bite. Harvey reached for his wife and gently guided her to sit down on the couch.
“Chloe was always…troubled,” Gina started to explain as Max sat on the chair facing the couple, “She was the reason we moved from Texas to Pennsylvania in the first place. Chloe suffered from depression. She was emotionally needy and, when it suited her, manipulative. Back in Texas, she had a boyfriend, and when they broke up she swore the boy had harmed her.”
Max watched the grim
ace on Harvey’s face as he picked up where Gina left off. “Chloe had threatened to kill herself if she had to see the boy at school anymore. Coincidently, a job position had opened up in Pennsylvania when all this was happening, so we decided to make the move and give her a fresh start.”
The man paused to assess Max’s expression. Blank.
“Of course, we weren’t here a full week before she met you,” Harvey added without a bit of animosity, “I did some asking around and heard you were a good kid, so I stepped back.”
“Then why did you hate me so much?” Max finally asked the question that had tugged at him for years.
Looking at each other, and then turning sympathetic eyes to Max, Chloe’s parents said in unison, “We didn’t.”
Max pulled his fingers through his hair in frustration as his heart began to thrum in his chest. “What the hell? I saw the way you looked at me. You never accepted me or my relationship with your daughter.” He could feel the flush rising in his neck, “Chloe said so herself!”
Harvey quietly leaned forward, hands on the knees of his designer suit, “Son…”
“I am not your son,” Max insisted, his voice loud but shaking. Standing, he clenched his fists, knuckles white. “You hated me. You never once looked me in the eye. You even disowned her for marrying me. I’ve never been anything to you,” Max spat. “Why are you here?” His voice was a shout now, the emotion becoming harder and harder to tamp down.
“Sit down, Max.” Harvey’s eyes pleaded, but his voice was firm, “You need to hear what we have to say, and then I promise; you will never have to see us again.”
Not knowing what else to do, Max sat back down but didn’t release his fists. Harvey inhaled deeply, laced his fingers with Gina’s, and continued.
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