Bad Grades: A Blasian BBW Romance Novel

Bad Grades: Chapter Two


There he was, again, unable to keep his eyes off of her. And, although part of him knew that it made her uncomfortable, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Dark brown eyes met his briefly before she turned her gaze on the rest of the room, trying her best to ignore him and failing horribly. But, she’d looked at him. He’d held her attention for more than a second, and the thought of it alone made him feel like he was floating.
“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit,” Professor Lanh said, quoting Aristotle as she leaned against her heavy, oak wood desk. She was in the middle of yet another lecture that, despite his rapidly decreasing grade point average, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to. Was it his fault that he was much more interested in the woman herself? In the thick, wild curls she wore barely contained in a bun at the base of her neck? In the rise of her full bosom and the curve of her hips? The fact that she’d called his flirting pitiful still stung, but he could understand why she’d lash out at him in the way she did. He’d been nothing but a butthead since the term started. He deserved her ire but, dammit, he couldn’t get her off of his mind. It wasn’t often that he felt attracted to someone physically and mentally. Sure, there were plenty of women his age on campus who would gladly return his advances, but there was something about Professor Claire Lanh that made his chest tighten and his lungs seize. And he was desperate to find out exactly what.
Thickly rimmed, black-framed glasses sat on the end of her button nose, a dark contrast against the dusky red that colored her golden, freckled cheeks. Obviously of mixed heritage, she was a rare beauty that hid her natural charm behind a brick wall of disinterest and feigned bitterness. Daniel sat forward in his seat to get a better look at her, his brain unable to register the words she spoke, but picking up every subtle move of her fingertips, every bat of her long, dark lashes. Dressed in a baggy, beige sweater, knee-length skirt, and oxfords, she looked every bit as boring and pretentious as she pretended to be. He found it odd that such an obviously sensual woman did everything she could to hide her body from his gaze. And gaze he did. As often as possible.
“Which means, what?” someone asked from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He reached for the textbook he hadn’t opened the entire length of class, absently thumbing through it to hide the fact that he really wasn’t paying attention. He’d almost forgotten they weren’t alone, that forty other students surrounded them in distraction and interference. The Professor shifted with unease, adjusting her glasses more out of habit than necessity.
“Which means that absolutely none of you should be failing my class. Philosophy is the study of the nature of knowledge, reality, and existence. It isn’t a math course, there is no one set way to do things; philosophy is discussion and thought. It’s the reasoning behind everything we say or do. So long as you just keep talking about it, studying it should be a habit and you should all excel,” she explained. The class groaned and he smirked behind his book. He’d never met someone so passionate about teaching, especially something as boring as philosophy, but every word she spoke on the topic was as if it would be her last. He wished for what felt like the hundredth time that he could delve into her mind, pick up her thoughts and devour all the thoughts and intricacies that made her unique. But he couldn’t. And that was what made her so infinitely fascinating.
“Or, it just means this class is fucking stu–!”
“–pendous,” Daniel cut him off, turning in his seat to stare up at him. If he remembered correctly, his name was Jarred something-or-other. They shared a criminal law class. “Just like our Professor here. That’s what you were going to say, right?”
“Whatever, Daniel, you do this shit every day and get a kick out of it,” he snorted. Daniel returned his playful look with a smile, watching his eyes flicker like dead pixels before fizzling out. The color drained from the man’s face when they locked gazes, his mouth going slack as gibberish bubbled forth.
“You were saying?” he asked. Jarred shook his head to clear it. He didn’t speak again, just gathered up his things and bolted for the door. Daniel turned in his seat to smirk at the Professor who looked just as confused as the rest of her class.
“Well,” she cleared her throat, “I guess I should let the rest of you go, too. It is getting rather late.”
“About freaking time,” someone grumbled from the back of the room. His classmates gathered their things and bolted from the room like rats freed from a cage. Daniel stayed behind, once again, watching her gather a stack of papers and head through a side door into her office. He grabbed his bag and followed.
“I enjoyed your lecture today, Professor,” he said once they were alone.
“Is that so?” she asked, stuffing her papers into an oversized canvas bag before turning to face him. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Now, I have some things to finish up so perhaps–”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, smirking to himself when she glared up at him.      “I spoke to Professor Cole again. She explained just how deep you are in the hole and urged me to help you with whatever I can. I know I’m not the best at philosophy but, I’m sure we can work something out in exchange for a passing grade. I’d even take a C minus if it means I’ll pass,” he told her. The Professor continued to glare up at him but it was obvious by the look in her eyes that she was weighing her options. On one hand, Professor Cole was very vague about what she needed help with but, through deductive reasoning, he could tell it must have been important. She was a new teacher at St. Lucia and he was well aware of how tough the school was on new faculty. From daily performance reports to monthly evaluations–it was hell. But, to be perfectly honest, regardless of his grade, he would have helped her anyway if it meant he got to spend even a minute of extra time with her.
“You tried this yesterday, didn’t you? What I told you then still applies. I don’t need your help,” she said pointedly. Daniel heaved a martyred sigh.
“Professor, if I have to chain myself to your desk in protest, leaving you to deal with me tired, hungry and smelling like God knows what every single day until I graduate, I’m not going to leave you alone until you accept my help. Seriously, save yourself the headache,” he said. Claire glared up at him. He was serious. He was freaking serious and she could see it in his eyes. He was just the type of jerk to deliver on his promise and if she didn’t give in she’d never be rid of him. But it was such a difficult situation! The logical part of her brain demanded she turn him down, that she insist he find someone else to bother. But, after having been yelled at by Dean Hughes yet again that morning, she couldn’t help but see the brat as her knight in shining armor. She needed his help but she knew it would kill her to take him up on his offer. What the heck could she do?
“And there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
“Short of a restraining order? No, not really. You see, Professor, here’s the thing, you need the help, I need the grade. Why not work together?”
“I don’t know? Why not do your classwork?” she retorted, folding her arms over her chest. Daniel shrugged a shoulder.
“Done,” he said and she gawked.
“What?”
“I’m serious. I’ll do my classwork. I’ll stop interrupting your lectures and teasing you during class. But you have to let me help out with whatever you need. Deal?” he asked, a tad bit more enthusiastically than he’d hoped. He didn’t want it to be obvious that he wanted this more than anything. He wanted the chance to get to know her, to explore her brain the regular way, without use of his…abilities. He just had to get inside that head of hers, no matter what it took.
“Well…” She took a deep breath and hesitated a full twenty-seconds before agreeing. She didn’t look too happy but, even she couldn’t really deny she was in over her head, even if she wanted to. Her office was a total wreck, filled with messy stacks of paper, books, class brochures and a months worth of Starbucks cups. She could pretend she didn’t need him, but the proof was in the proverbial pudding. “Fine. So long as you stop acting like an idiot in my class. When would you have time to help out?”
“I’m usually free after class, but for you–”
“No,” she cut him off. Daniel raised a brow down at her. “If this is going to work out you have to stop this stupid flirtation game. Do you know what would happen to me if Dean Hughes even suspected I was attempting to come on to you? Do you even know what the policy is here? I would lose my job. And with my already less than stellar reputation, I’d probably never work in academics again,” she said then gave him a pointed look. There was fear in her eyes. A fear he really didn’t understand. She would lose her job, so what? It was just a job, right? “So, stop it. No more pretending to flirt.” If only she would acknowledge the fact that he wasn’t pretending. Daniel regarded her for several long seconds. He was attracted to her, that was a fact he couldn’t deny and, even though he had ulterior motives for taking the position, would he really be able to simply pretend those feelings didn’t exist? He may not have fallen head over heels the moment he laid eyes on her, but surely she felt even an ounce of what he did?
“Deal. I’ll stop…messing with you. Is that good enough?” he asked. Claire frowned, not understanding the ire in his voice.
“Fine. So long as you adhere to those rules we can work together after day classes have ended.”
“Great. What do you have for me?” he asked.
“Why don’t you head home for today?
“But you just said I can help–!”
“Look around you, Mr. Kang, there’s literally nothing you can do until I get this mess at least partially sorted out,” she cut him off, her arms rising and falling against her sides in frustration. “We’d just get lost in here and need a rescue team. You can help me out tomorrow, alright?” Daniel gave her an indecisive look, heaving another sigh before finally caving in.
“Fine.”
“Fine,” she replied, watching the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a devious grin.
“See you tomorrow, then, Professor,” he said, his grin growing brighter as he tugged his bag higher on his shoulders and turned to leave. Claire sighed, the sound of the classroom door closing marking his departure, leaving her in silence.
“What the hell did I just get myself into?”

Find chapter one here!

Like what you’ve read so far? Why not grab the feature length romance novel for just 99c on Amazon Kindleor the anywhere else eBooks are sold?

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Book Review: The Bounty by Author Ashlee Jay!


Author:
Ashlee Jay

Genre: Erotica, Romance, Interracial, Multicultural

Publisher: Lillium Publishing House LLC

Summary:

The Bounty is the first story published by Author Ashlee Jay under Lillium Publishing. It’s an erotic short that details the explicit sexal encounter between Lara, a young woman just getting home from work who inadvertedly stumbles on the murder of her beloved neighbor, and Lorenzo, a demonic bounty hunter who’s doing the murdering. After deporting her neighbor–who also happens to be a demon–back to hell, he sets his sights on the only witness; Lara herself. After she stops him in his tracks with a well placed command that feels more like a spell to the seasoned hunter, and she freaking STABS him, they head back to her apartment and the tables turn. Fear and lust are only separated by a thin line. And it snaps.

My Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this story. I collect short stories to read in my downtime or between work and this one didn’t disappoint. Ms. Jay’s writing style is crisp, clean, and easy to understand, and the erotic scenes leave you feeling both satisfied and craving more. My only complaint was the pacing and what seems to be a missing story arc. While this is only a short story and obviously isn’t going to have lots of details, I felt a little jipped that more of the story wasn’t included. I want to know more about Lorenzo, his history and his powers. Speaking of powers, whatever Lara is has to be tied into the story somehow. I really hope she does a sequal to this as The Bounty is shaping up to be a great start to a long writing career.

Excerpt:

“Lara Ferreira took one step out of the elevator and into the depths of hell. The pained cries of her neighbor, high pitched and guttural, sounded like a car dragging a box of helpless kittens. Her ears rang, but her feet refused to move. What on earth was going on in there? Glass shattered. Thump after painful thump vibrated the floor beneath her. Her body coiled as she backed away, only to be hit by the fast closing elevator doors. She sighed. How much crap would she have to deal with before she finally made it home? The sound of metal striking flesh came to a brutal halt around her. Someone was slammed into the metal apartment door, sending the six-inch slab of steel into the hallway and her neighbor tumbling after it.

Jackson, her neighbor, rolled off the door and promptly regurgitated his dinner on the hall carpet. His clothes were torn, his eye beaten shut and his once flawless jaw structure swollen beyond recognition. He was a complete and utter mess. Lara ignored her natural response to move forward and help him, choosing instead to stick as close to the elevator as possible. If he knew she was there, he didn’t show any signs of acknowledging her presence, and that was fine with her. His body shook violently as he raised a bent and broken arm over his face. The other, he used to try and push himself away from his attacker who stepped over the debris. Lara’s knees quaked as a silhouette appeared in the doorway. Large hands brushed at the fibers of his a dark blue suit. Her eyes were immediately drawn to blood dripping off of his knuckles to pool on the carpet below his feet.

She watched him step through the doorway, finally getting her first real glimpse of the attacker. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her treacherous heart betraying her stoic expression as it thud loudly against her ribcage. His head was close to the ceiling he was so tall, his body large and intimidating. She watched his equally large hands lift the door and toss it to the side like it was nothing more than paper. He tugged at the lapels of his suit, straightening, the Italian fabric and attempting to wipe the blood from his hands. His footsteps thumped loudly as he neared her hiding place and her breath caught in her throat but, luckily, he was fixated on his target and didn’t appear to notice her.”

Excerpt From: Ashlee Jay. “The Bounty.” iBooks.

My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Grab The Bounty by Author Ashlee Jay here!

Write Like a Pro! 7 Key Ways to be a HAPPIER Writer!

If you’re a writer who’s been a part of any online writing community for ANY length of time, you’ve probably stumbled across posts that you found just a tad bit disheartening. For example, posts with titles like: 450 REASONS WHY YOU’RE NOT BEING PUBLISHED or 900 WRITING RULES YOU SHOULDN’T BREAK. We have a hard enough time just finding time to write, now we have to worry about pleasing cynics, critics, and elitists alike? Searching online for quick answers to nagging questions bread by writing anxiety can be majorly stressful for even the most seasoned writer. So, while bloggers and writers from all over the world are telling you the “do’s and don’ts” of being a sucessful writer, here are SEVEN tips on how to be a HAPPIER writer. Let the other guys worry about the technical aspects and leave your mental health and well-being to me!

1: Daydreaming is Pre-Writing!

If you’re anything like me, you love to fantasize about your characters. In fact, it probably comes quite natural to you. When you were a kid way before you caught the writing bug, chances are you used to dream up all kinds of fantastical characters and play out scenes between them in your head. Or, maybe you were a fan of role-playing games like The Sims or Dungeons and Dragons. Regardless of how you got your fix of characters and storylines, you probably spent more than one night laying in bed losing sleep while your creations run amuck and your parents wondered why you were giggling to yourself. Just because your childhood is over and you have bills to pay doesn’t mean you can’t take a little “cat nap” and hash out that scene that’s been bothering you before actually sitting down to write.

Relax in a comfortable position, preferably not in bed unless you really do need to catch up on sleep, and close your eyes. Visualize the scene. Where are your characters? Are they in an urban setting? The middle of the wilderness? What do they look like? What do they feel like? Smell like? Sound like? Become so use to seeing your own characters walking and talking that every time you close your eyes for more than a few seconds it becomes the silver screen. After you have a pretty good foundation of where the scene is going, get up and write it!

2: Write While You’re Laying Down!

This one may be a little tricky if you’re as sleep deprived as the rest of the world. Pick up your laptop, iPad or generally anything with a keyboard, and get some typing done while you’re cozy in bed. If you can adjust the angle so you’re laying on your back or if you’re more comfortable laying on your stomach, prop your writing instrument up on a pillow and get to work. Laying prone will trick your brain into thinking you’re resting, easing the anxiety of sitting upright at a desk and forcing it to remember what words are and which preposition goes where. Just like accountants need chairs with lumbar support and athletes need special shoes, comfort is crucial to a writer’s success and their general happiness. Besides, your back will thank you for it later. Just don’t fall asleep!

3: Writing Challenges Don’t Have to be Challenging!

Not every trick in your writers toolbox has to be used for keeping your mind and skills sharp. Gather up a few friends and your favorite writing challenge and prompt and challenge each other to a friendly game or two! See who can spin a prompt into the weirdest flash fiction story in the shortest amount of time. Have a friend that writes erotica but you specialize in Sci-Fi? Swap genres! Have fun with your writing period and soon you’ll start to see that it’s less of a chore and more of something you can’t wait to do when you wake up in the morning.

4: Find Friends Who Love to Write!

I’ve been extremely lucky to stumble upon a plethora of online writing workshops and Facebook groups where I’ve met a ton of amazing authors, readers, designers and everyday people who’ve pulled me out of a writing funk on more than one occasion. Search your Twitter mentions, Facebook, online forums, Google+ and even Instagram tags for other writers to join and form a community with. Books are our children, and like raising them it often takes a village of support. Support being the keyword here. For starters, here are a few groups I’ve found to be particularly supportive and friendly.

Author-4-Author: A Virtual Group for Writers
Insecure Writers Support Group
We Love Reading Books
Passion for Books

And don’t forget to hit up your #amwriting tags on major social media networks. Those hardworking writers can be lifesavers!

5: The Ultimate Taboo – Put The Caffeine DOWN!

I know, I know, every writer has to have their cup of coffee and their chocolate if they’re going to make it through their 1AM mad dash to finish their manuscript. But coffee and especially caffeine isn’t always the best option when it comes to your writing or your mental well-being.

  • More than 4 cups of coffee linked to early death. A Mayo Clinic partnered study found that men who drank more than four 8 fl.oz. cups of coffee had a 21% increase in all-cause mortality. However, those that reported that they consumed excessive amounts of caffeine were also likely to smoke and have poor fitness.
  • Caffeine may cause insomnia. Caffeine in a person’s system at bedtime can mimic the symptoms of insomnia.
  • Increased risk of heart attacks among young adults. A study conducted by Dr. Lucio Mos found that young adults who were diagnosed with mild hypertension had 4 times the risk of having a heart attack if they consumed the amount of caffeine equivalent to 4 cups of coffee [Caffeine Informer]

Let’s face it, writing is an extremely sedentary job. Writers, in general, don’t tend to get out much. Ask yourself, do you absolutely need that last cup of coffee? Or do you really need to just go to sleep, count your losses, and start fresh in the morning? Physical health and mental health are closely tied. I’m not saying you need to go get a gym membership, but small lifestyle changes could go a long way.

6: Whose Face is it Anyway? Why You Need Fan Casting in Your Life!

As a writer, finding “face claims” for my characters has become my favorite pastime. When I’m not writing I’m often crawling through Google Images and Pinterest looking for pictures of my favorite actors, musicians and models who best resemble certain characters. And when I’m not doing that, I’m ogling said models and daydreaming about my characters actually doing what I tell them for once and actually getting their book finished. Even better, if you have had the opportunity to build a community of fans or followers, why not leave the task up to them? Ask them to find the perfect actors to fill your imaginary cast and reward them when they do. Maybe give them a shoutout on your Facebook page? If they created an image with their fan-cast, share it around the web! There’s nothing more fun than seeing your brain babies through the eyes of others!

7: Put the Pencil DOWN!

That’s right. Put the pencil down. Don’t write anything at all, not even a grocery list. And I don’t mean that in a permanent sense. Everyone needs a break now and again, heck, billionaire CEO’s take vacations every other week and no one bats an eyelash. Writing is a job, whether it pays well or not, and just like with any other job your lack of progress may just mean you need a little time away. Don’t feel bad about stepping away from your writing for a few weeks. Just remember to always come back! Your characters miss you!

If all else fails in your search for the writer-happies, why not just sit back and read? You can find my latest Novelette Blood Fantasy as well as others at most major retailers and on Amazon.

Write Like a Pro! 7 Key Ways to be a HAPPIER Writer!

If you’re a writer who’s been a part of any online writing community for ANY length of time, you’ve probably stumbled across posts that you found just a tad bit disheartening. For example, posts with titles like: 450 REASONS WHY YOU’RE NOT BEING PUBLISHED or 900 WRITING RULES YOU SHOULDN’T BREAK. We have a hard enough time just finding time to write, now we have to worry about pleasing cynics, critics, and elitists alike? Searching online for quick answers to nagging questions bred by writing anxiety can be majorly stressful, for even the most seasoned writer. So, while bloggers and writers from all over the world are telling you the “do’s and don’ts” of being a sucessful writer, here are SEVEN tips on how to be a HAPPIER writer. Let the other guys worry about the technical aspects and leave your mental health and well-being to me!

1: Daydreaming is Pre-Writing!

If you’re anything like me, you love to fantasize about your characters. In fact, it probably comes quite natural to you. When you were a kid way before you caught the writing bug, chances are you used to dream up all kinds of fantastical characters and play out scenes between them in your head. Or, maybe you were a fan of role-playing games like The Sims or Dungeons and Dragons. Regardless of how you got your fix of characters and storylines, you probably spent more than one night laying in bed losing sleep while your creations run amuck and your parents wondered why you were giggling to yourself. Just because your childhood is over and you have bills to pay doesn’t mean you can’t take a little “cat nap” and hash out that scene that’s been bothering you before actually sitting down to write.

Relax in a comfortable position, preferably not in bed unless you really do need to catch up on sleep, and close your eyes. Visualize the scene. Where are your characters? Are they in an urban setting? The middle of the wilderness? What do they look like? What do they feel like? Smell like? Sound like? Become so use to seeing your own characters walking and talking that every time you close your eyes for more than a few seconds it becomes the silver screen. After you have a pretty good foundation of where the scene is going, get up and write it!

2: Write While You’re Laying Down!

This one may be a little tricky if you’re as sleep deprived as the rest of the world. Pick up your laptop, iPad or generally anything with a keyboard, and get some typing done while you’re cozy in bed. If you can adjust the angle so you’re laying on your back or if you’re more comfortable laying on your stomach, prop your writing instrument up on a pillow and get to work. Laying prone will trick your brain into thinking you’re resting, easing the anxiety of sitting upright at a desk and forcing it to remember what words are and which preposition goes where. Just like accountants need chairs with lumbar support and athletes need special shoes, comfort is crucial to a writer’s success and their general happiness. Besides, your back will thank you for it later. Just don’t fall asleep!

3: Writing Challenges Don’t Have to be Challenging!

Not every trick in your writers toolbox has to be used for keeping your mind and skills sharp. Gather up a few friends and your favorite writing challenge and prompt and challenge each other to a friendly game or two! See who can spin a prompt into the weirdest flash fiction story in the shortest amount of time. Have a friend that writes erotica but you specialize in Sci-Fi? Swap genres! Have fun with your writing period and soon you’ll start to see that it’s less of a chore and more of something you can’t wait to do when you wake up in the morning.

4: Find Friends Who Love to Write!

I’ve been extremely lucky to stumble upon a plethora of online writing workshops and Facebook groups where I’ve met a ton of amazing authors, readers, designers and everyday people who’ve pulled me out of a writing funk on more than one occasion. Search your Twitter mentions, Facebook, online forums, Google+ and even Instagram tags for other writers to join and form a community with. Books are our children, and like raising them it often takes a village of support. Support being the keyword here. For starters, here are a few groups I’ve found to be particularly supportive and friendly.

Author-4-Author: A Virtual Group for Writers
Insecure Writers Support Group
We Love Reading Books
Passion for Books

And don’t forget to hit up your #amwriting tags on major social media networks. Those hardworking writers can be lifesavers!

5: The Ultimate Taboo – Put The Caffeine DOWN!

I know, I know, every writer has to have their cup of coffee and their chocolate if they’re going to make it through their 1AM mad dash to finish their manuscript. But coffee and especially caffeine isn’t always the best option when it comes to your writing or your mental well-being.

  • More than 4 cups of coffee linked to early death. A Mayo Clinic partnered study found that men who drank more than four 8 fl.oz. cups of coffee had a 21% increase in all-cause mortality. However, those that reported that they consumed excessive amounts of caffeine were also likely to smoke and have poor fitness.
  • Caffeine may cause insomnia. Caffeine in a person’s system at bedtime can mimic the symptoms of insomnia.
  • Increased risk of heart attacks among young adults. A study conducted by Dr. Lucio Mos found that young adults who were diagnosed with mild hypertension had 4 times the risk of having a heart attack if they consumed the amount of caffeine equivalent to 4 cups of coffee [Caffeine Informer]

Let’s face it, writing is an extremely sedentary job. Writers, in general, don’t tend to get out much. Ask yourself, do you absolutely need that last cup of coffee? Or do you really need to just go to sleep, count your losses, and start fresh in the morning? Physical health and mental health are closely tied. I’m not saying you need to go get a gym membership, but small lifestyle changes could go a long way.

6: Whose Face is it Anyway? Why You Need Fan Casting in Your Life!

As a writer, finding “face claims” for my characters has become my favorite pastime. When I’m not writing I’m often crawling through Google Images and Pinterest looking for pictures of my favorite actors, musicians and models who best resemble certain characters. And when I’m not doing that, I’m ogling said models and daydreaming about my characters actually doing what I tell them for once and actually getting their book finished. Even better, if you have had the opportunity to build a community of fans or followers, why not leave the task up to them? Ask them to find the perfect actors to fill your imaginary cast and reward them when they do. Maybe give them a shoutout on your Facebook page? If they created an image with their fan-cast, share it around the web! There’s nothing more fun than seeing your brain babies through the eyes of others!

7: Put the Pencil DOWN!

That’s right. Put the pencil down. Don’t write anything at all, not even a grocery list. And I don’t mean that in a permanent sense. Everyone needs a break now and again, heck, billionaire CEO’s take vacations every other week and no one bats an eyelash. Writing is a job, whether it pays well or not, and just like with any other job your lack of progress may just mean you need a little time away. Don’t feel bad about stepping away from your writing for a few weeks. Just remember to always come back! Your characters miss you!

If all else fails in your search for the writer-happies, why not just sit back and read? You can find my latest Novelette Blood Fantasy as well as others at most major retailers and on Amazon.

Coming Soon! A Paranormal Blasian Romantic Comedy from Author A.C. Greenlee!

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From International Best-Selling author A.C. Greenlee…

In a story about love and acceptance, two people from totally different worlds find peace in each others arms…

Fresh out of college, when Claire Lanh moved from California to Chesterfield Pennsylvania to fill the position of Professor at the prestigious St. Lucia University, she’d expected a fairytale ending in an Ivy League setting. What she wasn’t counting on was falling in love with her gorgeous Philosophy student, and resident psychic, Daniel Kang.

Just twenty-three, Daniel is the son of a wealthy Korean conglomerate, currently on the run from a mysterious team of government scientists who want to claim his unusual powers for their own. After his elder brother goes missing, he is whisked away to The United States where he is hid in the quiet town of Chesterfield. He lives his life in relative peace, until an easily flustered, plus-sized, Blasian takes over his least favorite course.

No matter what she does, she can’t get Daniel to pay attention in her class and his troublemaking ways are making her already difficult job all that more treacherous. And once he volunteers to help her with her work after school, a whole new can of worms is opened. With her career on the line and his life in danger at every turn, can they learn to coexist? Can Claire resist the charms of the man that literally everyone wants and will stop at nothing to have her? Or will a single bad grade destroy them both?

*This is an ongoing series that will eventually be turned into a full length novella that will be available for purchase in February. This account and all stories herein belong to the author A.C. Greenlee. You can find her work including other K-Drama and K-Pop inspired books at http://www.amazon.com/author/acgreenlee

Join the discussion on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/booksbyacgreenlee 

“Devoured.”

Franz is an angel with a sordid past. After having been imbued with demonic energy as a child he constantly fights with a darker side of himself that threatens to destroy him completely. Karmen is a sassy Hellmouth who doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. Coming from a domestically violent background she’s cautious and confrontational, just the type of person Franz needs in his life to teach him to control his demonic urges. To Michael the Archangel and mastermind behind their unlikely union the pair look like a match made in heaven, but he knows better than anyone that one false move could land them both in a heap of trouble. They’re a ticking time bomb, one that’s on a steady countdown headed for that final bang.

Karmen hesitated in the hallway, her hand stilling in the air as she prepared to knock on the door to his study. If she had any say in the matter, or better sense, she would have turned on her heels and gotten the hell out of there as fast as she could. But Michael thought they needed to talk. That they shouldn’t let a petty argument ruin what was becoming a budding friendship. The head Archangel may have been the greatest general the universe had ever seen, but he was fucking remedial when it came to relationships. He was so blinded by his faith in his angelic brethren being the good guys that he couldn’t see how seriously messed up Franz Dresden really was. The man, or rather angel, was a flipping head case with the personality of a fire-breathing dragon. He hated her with a passion she couldn’t explain, and she couldn’t say she liked him all that much either. Clearing her throat suddenly she steeled herself to knock on the door again. When the top angel told you to do something, you did it, no matter how much you wanted to bail out and run for your life. Quickly rapping on the thick wood she waited for him to answer, she knew he had to be inside; it was where he always went to sulk. And after the argument that left her drenched in bourbon and him sporting a nice imprint of her palm on his cheek he just had to be sulking. With no answer from king asshole Karmen pushed the heavy door open and peered over at the blonde angel who stood near the fireplace, his dark eyes clouded in concentration as he contemplated the flames. He didn’t move to acknowledge her presence, which was fine with her. She was perfectly content on just standing there and pretending she’d actually talked to him enough to appease Michael. She had no plans on making things right with Franz; after all, it had been him who started the entire fiasco.

“You’re still as childish as you were two hours ago it seems.” He lifted his head to stare over at her, his heated gaze simply devouring as he took in her hurriedly thrown together attire. She was dressed from head to toe in black, as usual, sporting a formfitting pinstriped skirt and matching suit jacket. Her black six-inch heels were simply deceptive, making her appear at least five-foot-six when she naturally only stood five-foot-one. Her hair, which had previously been dripping wet with alcohol was pulled back in a messy bun, red tendrils slipping free of the band and caressing her dark caramel skin. His tormentor was beautiful, dark and seductive with her exotically tilted eyes that closely resembled his own. He didn’t know why Michael kept pushing her on him, and while he wished he would just give up on whatever he was trying to do, he couldn’t help but find some reason to thank him. Karmen the Hellmouth was just the punishment he deserved for all the dark deeds that haunted him from the past. He deserved her accusing stare and harsh words, and her thoughts of how much she hated him that she obviously forgot he could read as clearly as if she’d said them out loud. He deserved her disdain for the awful words he’d hurled at her earlier that evening. Could she help it that she was born a Hellmouth? Was it her fault that the demonic energy inside of him craved her so powerfully it was bordering on madness? He hated that side of himself, the dark, animalistic part of him that always managed to lay just beneath the surface, just waiting on something to push him over the edge and send him spiraling into a rage. He didn’t want to be that person, especially not to her. He knew of her past, of the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her human lover. Should he finally snap and no longer be able to hold back his demonic instincts he’d be even closer to falling. And not to mention he’d probably end up mortally wounding the woman who brought him as much pleasure as she brought him pain. Franz couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Karmen, so naturally he did what any other rational man would have; he pushed her away. “Why are you here? I thought I made it painfully clear that I never wanted to see you again. I knew you were ignorant but I had no idea it was to this extent.” His harsh words stung even him and he watched her flinch at his false insults. Karmen rolled her eyes and closed the door hard behind her, clicking the lock to make sure no one walked in on her shoving her foot up an angels ass. No matter how tight, or cute that ass may be…

“Okay you know what, I came here to make peace but now you’re just pushing it. Just who in the hell do you think you are?” She stormed over to him, past the dark mahogany desk and large leather chair. Karmen found herself staring up into a face that wasn’t feminine, but still beautiful in a way she found only angels could be. His skin, lightly tanned from hours spent training in the sun, stretched across bulging muscles that were barely contained by the tight, long-sleeved black shirt he wore. God his arms were a turn-on. Despite how gorgeous he may have been, with his straight blonde hair that hung around his face and partially hid those big ears of his that she found so utterly endearing, he was still the biggest asshole the world over! From the moment she’d met him those gorgeous lips of his had been spewing nothing but insults at her. He was utterly infuriating and the more time she spent around him the more she couldn’t help but wonder how such a stunningly beautiful blonde Adonis could have such a shit personality. Franz’s gaze seemed to darken then as he stared down at her. Oh that’s right, angels were telepaths. Fuck.

“You continue to insult me even when you know what I could do to you. You’re either exceptionally brave­–”

“Or fucking stupid. I know! You’ve told me that already!” She reached up to punch him in the arm but he grabbed her fist instead, sending her off balance and tumbling off her heels and into his arms. “Let me go!” Karmen growled as he pulled her closer instead of releasing her. The moment his body collided with hers his sanity went whirling out the window. He didn’t know what it was about Hellmouths and demons or why they had the immense need to fuck each other senseless but the demonic energy inside of him simply purred at the thought of doing just that. And he couldn’t resist it. He constantly teetered on the brink of insanity and this woman, this Hellmouth was the one factor that stripped away his practiced control and sent him careening into lunacy. He needed her. Desperately. And if she didn’t find someway to escape his slowly tightening grip he would have her. In every single way. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Karmen continued to struggle as Franz buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her anger and trepidation. Part of her was afraid of him, and somewhere deep in the back of his mind he understood why. He was a monster and she was about to be devoured. Franz released her just long enough to sweep everything off his desk and onto the floor, important documents went flying and his antique crystal lamp shattered against the floorboards. Karmen opened her mouth to scream but the sound was lost as he covered her lips with his. She felt her body tense, her hands going to clutch at his biceps as her mind tried in vane to figure out what was going on. Was Franz kissing her? The man who, not two hours ago, told her she should have never been born? His tongue brushed her bottom lip before forcing it’s way into her mouth and that answered her question. Karmen felt the ridge of the desk press against her backside as she was slammed down onto it, her skirt riding up around the tops of her thighs as Franz pressed her into the wood.  His heavy hand against her shoulder held her in place as he lifted one of her legs around his waist. Karmen couldn’t breath as he pressed himself against the center of her body, every inch of her going up in flames at the feel of his hardening erection against the thin layer of her panties. Never in a million years would she have guessed that her body would respond in this way. Not to Franz! But she couldn’t deny that the heat from his hands on her flesh drove her wild, that her lips, dark and bruised from his kisses begged to taste him again. “Franz…” She tried calling out to him but the sound of his name only seemed to drive his passion higher as the speed of his frenzied movements increased. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her throat as he bucked against her body, her hips trembling in response. Franz ran his hands up her waist, grabbed a fistful of fabric in either hand and ripped her suit jacket open. Buttons went flying. Karmen arched her back as he proceeded to shred her thin camisole and bra, his fingers hard against her tender flesh as he cupped her breasts and leaned to take a pebbled nipple between his teeth. She arched into his touch, her legs clenching around his waist as she pulled him closer. She couldn’t begin to fathom what was happening between them but her body refused to overanalyze the situation. She wanted him, despite how much her brain told her she hated him, that she was angry and hurt by the words he’d so carelessly hurled at her. None of that seemed to matter the very second she felt his skin against hers. Again his name fell from her lips as his hands travelled down her body to her skirt. Instead of even attempting to find the zipper he just tugged it up around her waist and went straight for her panties, shredding the material and tossing the remains away. Franz didn’t hesitate to touch her, his fingers sliding against her slick folds as he explored her intimately. He wasn’t as rough as he’d been previously, but that didn’t mean he was gentle either. Franz pulled her into a sitting position as he continued to play, his teeth at her neck as he nipped at her skin. Karmen let her hands slide up his arms, gripping them tightly as she rolled her hips into his touch, a moan leaving her as he pressed harder against her swollen sex. Her stomach tightened as he growled at her heated response, his breath against her ear making her see stars. “Please.” She begged him, but for what she didn’t know. She just needed release; she needed him to ease the ache he’d started deep inside of her. Franz pulled his hand away from her body just long enough to rip open the front of his dark jeans, his cock springing into his hands. Karmen groaned as her back was once again slammed against the desk, one of his strong hands lightly gripping her throat as he held her in place. A gasp of pleasure left her as she wrapped her hands around his forearm, scoring the flesh lightly with her fingernails. She felt him rub the head of his cock against her clit, teasing her gently as he fumbled to find her entrance, and when he did he thrust in hard without warning, sinking his entire length inside of her in one stroke. Karmen bit her lip to ward off the scream that welled up in her throat. There was nothing gentle about the way he rode her, about his hands as they gripped her hips until she knew he would leave bruises behind. “Franz!” She growled as she sat up in his arms and took his face in her hands, staring into brown eyes that were dark with lust. “I’m not a fucking animal!” She told him, sliding her hands down his chiseled chest until they came to rest on his stomach. “Slow…love me slow.” She ordered and he slowed his frenzied pace, his mouth hanging open as his breath left him in quick pants. Now that she had his attention she grabbed the end of his shirt and tugged it over his head, displaying a bounty of golden flesh. She didn’t know why all angels seemed to be so unbelievably tanned but she was appreciative. Karmen let her hands slide back down his chest as he continued to thrust slowly, his arms flexing around her as he flattened his hands on the desk, encircling her in heat. She couldn’t help but moan as she leaned forward to taste him, her tongue playing at the hollow of his throat before sliding up to his chin. Franz trembled under her ministrations, every muscle in his body straining to keep him from slamming back into her and claiming her the way his very soul told him to. He lowered his head to lean against hers, capturing her lips with his own and nipping gently. He loved the way she responded to him, the way her body tightened instinctively around his. He just couldn’t understand why though. By all rights she should have been screaming out for help, begging someone to save her from the monster who was all but raping her.

“Karmen, I don’t underst­­–” He tried but much to his surprise she pulled back and slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. Karmen groaned as she rolled her hips into his.

“Shut up. Whenever you open your mouth you fuck everything up.” She moaned, gasping when he pinched one of her nipples hard enough to make it hurt. “Fuck you.” She panted and he chuckled darkly. Before she knew it she was once again thrown back against the desk. Franz wrapped his hands around her hips and thrust into her hard and deep. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as he continued to pound relentlessly into her quivering frame.

“Tell me you want me. Tell me you want this.” He demanded, his voice pleading as she worked herself against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“I want you.” She acquiesced, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he all but slammed into her. His vigor renewed by her words he pulled out of her suddenly, leaving her panting, moaning in disappointment and gasping for breath.

“Turn over.” He ordered, slapping at her hip until she rolled onto her stomach, her breasts pressed hard against the smooth surface of his desk. Karmen lifted her head to stare back at him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she let her eyes play on his body. Franz pressed back inside of her, eliciting a strangled cry from the woman beneath him. He could hear her nails raking over his desk as she searched for something to hold onto. A smirk lit his face as he grabbed her behind one of her knees and pulled it up before slamming into her hard enough to make the desk shake. Karmen cursed as he rode her fast and hard, the sound of their bodies colliding almost erotic as it fueled the flames he’d started inside of her body. His name fell from her lips over and over like an oath, her moans serving as a constant encouragement.

“Fuck.” She cursed and he chuckled, leaning against her back so he could whisper huskily into her ear.

“You have a filthy mouth.”

“And you fucking like it.” She pushed her hips into his, his chest rumbling against her back as he growled. Franz wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away from the desk and moved to sit in his oversized desk chair with her in his lap.

“Ride.” He growled against the shell of her ear and she wasted no time complying, leaning forward and planting her hands on his knees as she lifted herself and dropped on his cock. Franz groaned at how good she felt, his hands on her hips as he thrust into her. Karmen couldn’t breathe from the immense amount of pleasure Franz gave her. Her entire body was wound so tightly she felt as if she would break at any moment and shatter into a million pieces. And then it happened. She threw her head back as Franz hit something inside of her, her body trembling as her orgasm flooded her. She could hear someone screaming and it took her seconds to realize it was her own strangled voice reverberating off the dark wooden walls of his office. She could only whimper as he continued to thrust against her, ringing her dry as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. It wasn’t long before he joined her there and in a few more quick thrusts he was shouting her name, his cock tightening an instant before he spilled himself inside of her. Karmen fell back against his chest, completely spent as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. They were drenched in sweat; their bodies limp as their strength was completely sapped. “Did you really mean what you said?” He asked her suddenly and she frowned, having to struggle to force her fuzzy brain to remember what the hell he was talking about.

“You mean that you fuck up everything when you open your mouth?” She asked and he tensed, hesitating a full second before responding.

“Yes…”

“Yes. To put it frankly, you talk too fucking much.” She growled and he cocked a finely arched blonde at her.

“Is that so?”

“Yes! For example, you want to talk when you could be bending me over the desk again.” She grinned devilishly and Franz frowned before growling.

“Well I didn’t know I had fucking permission.” He pushed her off of him, relishing in her surprised yelp as he forced her back over the desk and pulled her hips flush against his.