contemporary romance novels

Dark Romance Books | Ex Con's Captive | Book #2 BWWM Captive Series

ex con's captive dark romance books hitman mafia romance bad boy bwwm romance novelsBook 2 of the dark bad boy romance series BWWM Captive Series, makes an impact on interracial romance readers who love romantic stories and couldn't wait for the launch of one of our best contemporary romance novels. Ex Con's Captive is everything we have been waiting for after Book 1, SEAL's Captive... 

This book follows the story of the second Jackson sister, Tyra Jackson. Unlike her sister, Gigi, Tyra has had a tougher life than most. She's used her loud-mouth and her spitfire temper to shield her from all the hurt she's been exposed to in life. Her father's death leaves her an heiress but it's not a status she's comfortable with at all.

Tyra can be impulsive, which makes for an explosive dynamic between her and her captor, Leon Wilkins. The chemistry between the two is instant and volatile, with the contrast between Tyra's outspoken ways and Leon's reserved stoicism. Set far away from life in America, Ex Con's Captive will take this African American beauty all over Eastern Africa, from Nairobi to Kampala, and even through Tanzania. Get relaxed to read the FREE sample of this steamy hot August 2018 interracial romance release from bestselling Author, Jamila Jasper.

Romance Novel Excerpts: Ex Con's Captive | Book #2 BWWM Captive Series

 

 

TYRA JACKSON

Goodbye to Gigi wasn’t easy. I’d only just grown accustomed to having a sister and saying goodbye so soon had never been a part of my plan. She zoomed off in a taxi and left me standing next to Dinah.

 

“Think she’ll be okay?” I asked.

 

“Of course,” Dinah smiled, “Of course she’ll be okay. “

 

“I dunno. She’s taking it hard…”

 

Dinah smirked, “Listen, I’ve got people looking after her.”

 

I raised an eyebrow.

 

“People? What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means you don’t have to worry.”

 

I didn’t get along with Dinah as well as I got along with Gigi. I found her standoffish and she spoke as if she knew everything. If she knew so damn much, why didn’t she just tell us instead of being so cryptic and speaking in code?

 

“C’mon,” Dinah said, “Let’s head inside. We still have guests.”

 

“Right…”

 

We walked back inside when one of Dinah’s staff approached her with a worried look on her face. She touched Dinah’s arm and whispered into her ear. Dinah’s expression twisted with worry and she thanked her housekeeper before returning to my side.

 

“Bad news.”

 

“How bad?”

 

I worried about my mama back in California. She’d never been without me for this long and with my younger brothers (half-brothers) off on their tour of duty, she needed me now more than ever.

 

Yup, my mama had more kids when I was sixteen years old and my brothers were just old enough to pick up guns and serve their country. 

 

“There’s a storm. We’ve just had word a hurricane is going to hit tomorrow.” 

 

“In Costa Rica?”

 

“Off the coast. It’s unusual but… not impossible.”

 

“I’m supposed to leave tomorrow morning!”

 

“Sorry Tyra. You’re welcome to stay here the night.”

 

I had no desire to stay in Dinah’s cold, Costa Rican mansion any longer than I had to. I was never close to my father and if I had to be honest, I came to collect my inheritance and meet my sisters, who I’d met only a handful of times during my life. The mansion had no life to it. The large beams and open spaces with their operatic acoustics only felt empty to me. 

 

Despite the tropical heat, the humid atmosphere within the concrete megalith chilled me to the bone. I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and returned past the manicured palm trees and bougainvillea gardens to the guests. My father’s associates all imbued me with a sense of deep discomfort. When one man grabbed my hand, my palm shivered with the panic a woodland creature feels before being squeezed by an anaconda.

 

I stuck to Dinah’s side the rest of the evening. I could sense her growing frustration with me, but I couldn’t bear to mill about with the black-suited dementors whose soul-sucking interest in wealth alone was practically palpable to me. I reached for my phone, hoping to steal away for a few minutes to call my mother. No bars. Right — the hurricane.

 

Dinah had attempted an escape, but I spotted her across the room talking to a short, latino man, one of the ones who had spoken at the funeral. He had a scar across his eye and chilling anthracite eyes. 

 

“Tyra, have you met Luciano?”

 

The name rang a bell. He’d spoken and given one of my father Jerome’s eulogies.

 

“Ah, I don’t believe so.”

 

He reached out his hand, licking his lips before greeting me.

 

“Beautiful Tyra. I remember your mother.”

 

He winked. 

 

“Oh, thanks. Hi.”

 

“I’m Luciano. I’m leaving. I must get out of here before the storm hits.”

 

His thick accent belied his perfect diction.

 

“Safe drive,” I replied.

 

He chuckled, “I doubt it.”

 

He hugged Dinah and we watched him leave together. 

 

“Scary, isn’t he?” Dinah whispered.

 

“You could say so.”

 

“Harmless. I’ve known him since I was a child.”

 

I didn’t think growing up in this environment, Dinah had any clue what safety meant, but I didn’t question her. Drinking and partying continued until the wee hours of the morning. Dinah and I were the last to retire, except for the wait staff who now had the funeral of a century to clean up after. 

 

Dinah yawned as we ascended the marble staircase.

 

“Daddy would have hated this,” she mused.

 

“I guess.”

 

I didn’t know our father well enough to say otherwise.

 

“I’ve arranged a private company to take you to the airport tomorrow. You won’t miss your flight.”

 

“What about the storm?”

 

“They say it’s swung north. We’re safe.”

 

“Thank goodness.”

 

I exhaled a sigh of relief and caught another yawn from Dinah.

 

“Sleep tight. I’ll send Ana up in the morning to take your breakfast order.”

 

“Thanks, Sis.”

 

“Sorry, we didn’t get to hang out much this time.”

 

“Next time.”

 

I doubted there would be a "next time". Since we’d grown, “next time” never materialized the way it had when we were younger. 

 

Dinah went to bed, leaving me in my suite. I wandered around with my phone for a while, flipping my braids out of my face as I pressed it against the window.

 

Nothing. Nothing. I shuffled to the left. Nothing. I shuffled to the right. Ah! Yes!

 

One bar.

 

I called my mama’s number, feasting on the melody of the warbled dial tone.

 

“Hello? Who’s this?”

 

“Mama, it’s me? Can’t you see the number?”

 

“Ain’t it late?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“Girl you done woke me up.”

 

“Sorry. There was a storm…”

 

“Hope…y-….safe…”

 

The line crackled.

 

“Mama what?”

 

“I hope you’re staying safe.”

 

“Yes. I’m gonna make my flight tomorrow. Signal’s really bad so I won’t call most likely.”

 

“Okay. I’ll be at the airport with Steven.”

 

My mama had been trying to force her new boyfriend Steven down my throat for the past eight months and it wasn’t going well.

 

“Steven? Why?” I huffed.

 

“He’s my man. Maybe if you had a man, you wouldn’t be worried about my man,” my mom started.

 

I rolled my eyes and ignored her as she trailed off into a rant about how I needed to get laid more so I would stop getting all “up in her business”. 

 

“I just don’t like Steven!” I interrupted.

 

“Uh huh? You just have a problem with an old lady like me getting busy six nights a week.”

 

“Mama gross!” I yelled.

 

“Well it’s true,” she mumbled.

 

Hoping to spare myself any more disturbing details about my mother’s sex life, I made an excuse and hung up the phone. My mama had been a famous super-model in London, parlaying her olive green eyes and tanned skin into an international career. She’d been in magazines, met the Versace siblings and partied until addiction yanked everything underneath her and sent her spiraling towards rock bottom.

 

Money corrupts. She’d ended up with a baby — me — a few leaked porn tapes that had excluded her from high society in Los Angeles, and a ten year battle with cocaine and heroin that had only ended once she got pregnant with me. She’d raised me well, but there were times she couldn’t shake the wild child inside of her off. Without me to look after her, I didn’t think she’d make it.

 

I needed to get back. Steven, her new man, was a former pimp. I suspected he hadn’t left the pimping behind and I needed to get back to her so I could use my inheritance to find proof of who Steven was and chase him away from my mama. She deserved better.

 

I stayed awake all night thinking about my mama, Steven, and my now deceased father. Jerome had never been a good man to her. My sisters didn’t know it, but he’d paid good money for the night he spent with my mother. He’d only cared about her once the baby was born. Up until he got a paternity test to prove I was his, he’d spent every moment denying me and calling my mama a dirty hooker when he was the one who had paid for her.

 

You could see why I didn’t tell my sisters… 

 

My mama got on my case for not getting laid but I would have stayed celibate for my whole life if it meant not ending up with a man like my daddy. 

 

My eyes burned in the morning. A knock slammed against my door. I slid out of bed and ordered a simple breakfast — local Costa Rican bread, avocado, scrambled eggs, fresh mango slices and sparkling water. While Dinah’s housekeeper prepared breakfast, I showered and prepared for my flight.

 

The tropical weather messed up my braids and I knew my mama would comment on my hair the moment I landed in Los Angeles. I took a quick shower, tied my braids up into a tight high bun and wrapped a silk scarf around my forehead to hide my less than perfect edges.

 

I couldn’t wait to get back to LA where I could wear makeup every day without melting it off. Not even my acrylics survived the weather and the French manicure on my toes were my only ties to good looks that remained. 

 

Breakfast came to me on white platters and I ate in bed. After thirty minutes, the housekeeper entered my room and informed me that Dinah hadn’t slept well and she wouldn’t be getting out of bed to say goodbye.

 

“Are you sure I can’t sneak in there?” I asked.

 

“No,” she replied, “Dinah is sleeping.”

 

“Uh. Okay.”

 

“Your driver is downstairs,” she said.

 

“So soon?”

 

“Yes. You leave early.”

 

“Oh… Okay.”

 

Discomfort knotted my stomach. 

 

“Can I at least leave her a note?” I asked.

 

“No,” the housekeeper replied firmly.

 

“Oh…”

 

“Come on,” she smiled, sensing my discomfort, “Let’s go.”

 

I followed her, tugging my suitcase behind me and deciding whether or not I should make a break for it and say goodbye to Dinah anyway. I decided against bothering her. I didn’t feel we were close enough to justify it. 

 

I followed Dinah’s dark-haired housekeeper outside to the black car with tinted windows that awaited.

 

“This is it?”

 

“Sí.”

 

The driver got out of the car and approached the housekeeper with an envelope. She took it and scurried off. I squinted in the sunlight trying to get a good look at him. The rays blinded me enough that I couldn’t quite see his face. He was pale, freckled and wore thick sunglasses that obscured much of his face.

 

He didn’t smile.

 

He opened the front door for me rather than the back. This wasn’t the custom in America, but figuring it was just cultural, I entered the car. He sternly got into the front seat and I tried to work my best Spanish on him.

 

“Buenos días.”

 

It’s impossible to live in LA without picking up a little bit of Spanish. 

 

“Buenos días,” he replied in a thick Costa Rican accent.

 

His voice surprised me as his skin tone was one usually found amongst foreigners or expatriates. However, his accent sounded natural, like he’d been raised in the jungle.

 

As we drove out of the driveway, a thicket of trees clamored together overhead. He reached for a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth, gripping the steering wheel loosely as we drove.

 

“Where are we headed?”

 

He didn’t reply.

 

“Hablas inglés?”

 

“No.”

 

“Cómo te llamas?” 

 

“Leon.”

 

“Eso es francés, no?”

 

“Si.”

 

Not much of a talker, I presumed. Too bad. I had been nervous among my father’s contemporaries but I usually charmed the pants off most people in the real world (not the wealthy world). I’d talk to cab drivers, janitors, and I knew the homeless people on my block like we were family. 

 

Maybe now, I could do something for them, I thought to myself.

 

I leaned back in the seat, resigning myself to a three-hour early morning drive without a lick of conversation. When we hit the highway, Leon started to speed. The roads wound around and after a few minutes, when I caught hold of my stomach again, I noticed we weren’t getting deeper into the city, but further away from it.

 

My heart sank. I hadn’t thought much about the envelope exchanged between Leon and Dinah’s housekeeper. The incident flashed into my mind with worry. Oh hell no… 

 

I’d watched hundreds of hours of newsreels about women being kidnapped and sold into sex slavery. In that instant, that was all that flashed into my mind: being sold as a piece of meat for some sicko who would make me regret the rest of my living days.

 

I went ballistic.

 

“WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?!” I shrieked.

 

“Señora, en español?”

 

“En fuckin’ español? WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME. DONDE?”

 

“Señora, calmate!”

 

“CALM DOWN, ANSWER THE QUESTION NOW! DONDE?”

 

“Señora, cálmate!” He growled.

 

Oh, he wanted to get angry? I did what any rational person wouldn’t do. I reached over, grabbing the steering wheel and swerved the car off the road, dragging the wheel to the left and screaming as the car went flying off the edge of the road.

Phew! This story is already getting crazy. Are you ready to continue reading it right away? I won't hold you up. 

Amazon readers: https://amzn.to/2UrRwTZ

iBooks, Nook, Kobo readers: smarturl.it/exconscaptive

 

Dark Romance Books | Hitman's Captive | Book #3 BWWM Captive Series

hitman's captive jamila jasper interracial romance dark romance story bad boy bwwm romance novelsThe third and final installment in the BWWM Captive Series is finally here. We'll be closing out the novel with the final installment to this rockin' trilogy that follows the crazy stories of Gigi Jackson (Book 1, Seal's Captive) and Tyra Jackson (Book 2, Ex Con's Captive). These sisters have taken us around the world, okay?! In Book 1, we found ourselves in Costa Rica and in Book 2, we went all the way to Nairobi, Kenya with some part of the book in Uganda (Kampala) and Tanzania. 

It's been an incredible journey to Book 3 for me and I've spent many months tweaking the ending that I originally wanted to write a story that wasn't just about Dinah, but tied in the other three sisters so that you can all get final CLOSURE on the girls we have come to love throughout this year... 

What I can promise you in Dinah's book is that she's nothing like the reserved and shy Gigi or the loud-mouthed troublemaking Tyra. She's a breed of her own thanks to her upbringing by her CRAZY RICH father. This book explores what that life on the "dark economy" is like. 

Did you know that it's common for many rulers in ancient times to only surround themselves with female guards because they believed women are more trustworthy? There was no better woman for Jerome to trust than his own daughter so he turned her into the woman he needed her to be... a cold-blooded assassin. And yes, Jerome technically recruited "child soldiers" to protect his multi-million dollar fortune. This book delves into the depths of what this wealthy man left behind and how his daughter will manage to pick up the pieces of having grown up stronger than any woman she knows and struggling to let other people -- especially men -- into her life.

I don't want to spoil how the story ends for you, so without further ado, thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoy the absolutely delicious teaser I'm posting below. Warning, you WILL be teased, so expect to end the sample wanting more (desperately).

Romance Novel Excerpts: Hitman's Captive | Book #3 BWWM Captive Series

 

CHAPTER ONE

“Miss Jackson, it’s handled.”

 

“What did they say?”

 

“They asked about the funeral.”

 

“There’s not going to be a funeral. My remains are…”

 

“I said they were lost at sea.”

 

“Good.” 

 

“With all due respect Miss Jackson, due to the short notice of your departure, I cannot guarantee that the truth will stay hidden from them at all.”

 

“I understand, Stephanie. But you know that I don’t have a choice here.”

 

“We always have a choice, Dinah.”

 

“Not me.”

 

“You’re Jerome’s daughter. I understand that. But your father is dead…”

 

“Exactly. And just like people came after Gigi and Tyra, they’ll come after me. You and I both know that I’ve done far worse than being Jerome’s daughter.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“I know. Consider this a semi-permanent retirement. When trouble has died down, I’ll consider coming back.”

 

“Elsa misses you.”

 

I leaned back in the red velvet seats on the jet, trying not to think of Elsa.

 

“Elsa is a dog. She doesn’t understand anything. She’s just happy as long as she gets her food every day.”

 

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

 

“Listen, Stephanie. We’re about to land. I’ll be back on the grid in twenty.”

 

“Is she beautiful?”

 

“Yes, the island looks the same. But somehow colder.”

 

Stephanie chuckled, “She looks colder every time.”

 

“When is the last time you’ve been back?”

 

“I don’t know. Years. Not since Wy—”

 

“You can say his name, Stephanie.”

 

“Not since Wyatt was around.”

 

“Yeah. Let’s hope he doesn’t think to look for me here.”

 

“He won’t. We took measures to ensure that he’ll never find you.”

 

“Promise me, Stephanie, you’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Good. I gotta go now.”

 

“Be safe, Dinah.”

 

“I will be. You know that.”

 

“Yes. But you have a funny habit of getting into trouble, don’t you?”

 

“I’m my father’s daughter. I can’t help that.” 

 

“Bye, Dinah.”

 

“If you don’t hear from me in three days, worry.”

 

Stephanie hung up and I wandered down the aisle of the jet, popping into the pilot’s cabin.

 

“Closing in, Jerry?”

 

“Yes. It’s tough landing her today. Snowstorm comin’ in tomorrow, I’m sure you heard.”

 

“I did.”

 

“You ready?”

 

“The house survived the winter of ’09 just fine.” 

 

“Good. Good.”

 

“I’m gonna miss you, Jerry.”

 

“Don’t believe that.”

 

“We’ve flown all over the world together.”

 

Jerry shrugged, “Coulda been any other lug Mr. Jackson hired.”

 

“But you’ve always been my pilot. Always.”

 

“You’ve grown up into a fine young lady.”

 

The plane approached the ground and I grew quiet as I watched Jerry take her in closer, flying the private plane smoothly to avoid bumps and discomfort. Our first flight together had been a nightmare compared to this one. With daddy dead, all of us would scatter to our little corner of the globe and hope that we could live without trouble for once.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“If you need me, call my place in Hafnarfjörður.”

 

“It’s only a three hour flight.”

 

“Exactly. I’ll miss ya kiddo. But it’s for the best.”

 

“I know. That’s what I told Stephanie.”

 

Jerry snorted at the mention of Stephanie’s name. 

 

“She still think you should stay in the tropics so they can hunt you down like deer?” He asked gruffly.

 

“She wants me to stay.”

 

“Not a chance. YOu’re too smart for that. And you’re right to come here. Nowhere is safer than Avalon.”

 

I didn’t respond and a few moments later, the plane landed on the strip, a mile away from the island’s main house. 

 

“Bundle up, missy.”

 

I wrapped my scarf around my face and pulled up the hood on my jacket so it warmed my ears. Jerry opened the plane doors and walked me down the stairs. He stared at me for a moment on the tarmac with tears in his eyes.

 

“Years. You’ll be here alone for years, Dinah. I just… I can’t imagine what your father would think.”

 

“He would understand. This is what he would have wanted.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. I suppose it’s safest.”

 

“If I’m with the rest of the world, they’ll track me down and when they’re done, they’ll kill all my sisters. I have no choice.”

 

“I know. I know.”

 

He hugged me and salty tears ran down his stubbly cheek onto my cheek as we pressed our faces together. I squeezed Jerry tightly, not wanting to let go. For a split second, I realized he was the last remaining parental figure that I had and I would have to say goodbye to him and to everything I knew. 

 

I finally pulled away, sniffling and disguising my own tears from him.

 

“Promise me you’ll stay in touch.”

 

“I will.”

 

“And stay out of trouble.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Sure you don’t want me to drive you to the house?”

 

“No. I can handle it.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Bye, Jerry.”

What happens next?! This month, you can find the extended version of this chapter as well as TEASER #2 on my Patreon. For as little as $1.49/month gain instant access to the rest of this sample, as well as 100+ posts with previous eBook samples, private blog posts, full-length short stories, and some full-length short audiobooks.

Take the plunge and join the private Patreon family here: www.patreon.com/jamilajasper

Just want to take a look at some more 100% FREE content? Check out the trailer to this book here: smarturl.it/HitmanTrailer

Get more information about this book or click to buy after December 21st: smarturl.it/HitmansCaptive

Romantic Comedy Novels: The Situationship by Jamila Jasper

bwwm romance romance comedy novelsThe Situationship  is a Jamila Jasper romantic comedy novel set in the beautiful city of NYC. The story described a complicated "situation" between two "friends with benefits", each hoping for something more but too afraid to ask for what they want.

If you're a fan of BWWM romance and you're looking for a light-hearted contemporary interracial romance novel, you'll enjoy this book.

You can get a copy of The Situationship  here:  http://amzn.to/2v3Jiar

Check out the full description below.

Description: 

LOLA HOPKINS

Not quite a friendship, not quite a relationship
Some women would consider that a HOT MESS 
But not me. 
I liked no-strings-attached fun with Mark.
That is, I liked it until I got pregnant... 
Will I ever convince this playboy to settle down?

MARK JAGGER

I love Lola, but I can't hurt her
My ex-wife will never accept me getting serious with another woman.
I need to keep Lola at arm's length to keep her safe.
But these days, she's been getting so damned clingy.
I can't figure out why...

This book is for lovers of hot and steamy action between the sheets. If you enjoy romance between beautiful, strong black women and handsome, alpha male white men, you'll enjoy this book. Take a look inside to get a taste of what you're missing...

The Situationship BWWM Romance Sample: 

 

1 SIDE CHICKS?

Lola Hopkins

 

I knew what kind of guy Mark Jagger was when I met him and that drew me to him like a fly to honey. He was everything I was looking for in a man when I’d met him. Mark was 6’3” tall and he had short cropped dirty blonde hair, killer white teeth and a body like a God. After a few drinks, I was hooked. I hate to say it but I was even more attracted to him when he told me he was “polyamorous”.

 

 

That night we didn’t sleep together but Mark explained to me what being with him entailed. He was seeing three other women and they all knew about it. They were free to see who they wanted and he was free to see who he wanted, as long as they were honest about it. I remember when he told me that at the bar, I almost burst into tears.

 

Thankfully, I didn’t. But after what I’d been through with Darius, I felt like I was witnessing a miracle. Mark was honest — up front. I didn’t mind that he was seeing other women because hell, I’d already been through it with a man who had a whole family. At least Mark was honest. 

 

And his honesty kept me hooked for two years. Yes, I’ve been seeing Mark for two years and that whole time, I’ve known about the other women he’s seeing. It’s easier that way. I don’t have to worry about him lying and I don’t have to worry about him expecting much from me. 

 

Since I’ve met Mark, I’ve been promoted twice and now I’m the Chief Financial Officer in the company. I have twenty-five people working under me and my office is almost as big as that first condo I moved into. I live in an even bigger two bedroom condo and I bought myself a white BMW — cash. I don’t need a man to take care of me. I only need a man to be honest with me. 

 

And despite his unconventional lifestyle, Mark is honest. 

 

I had him on the weekends for the next six months so I showed up on Friday as we’d planned. I let myself in with my key to his place and I went upstairs to get dressed. Mark was the kind of guy who was both kind, but dominant. He had specific tastes for women and instructions that all his girls had to follow on their nights. I didn’t know his other girls very well, but I knew that a part of why Mark loved me so much was that I was different from any woman he’d ever dated.

 

I’d fallen into his routine so easily and outside of our confusing “situationship” we made decent friends. I looked at the clock in Mark’s bathroom. Twenty minutes until he got home.

 

I’d just finished shaving everything and I slipped into the lingerie Mark had placed on a white wire hanger for me. The black teddy hugged my curves and the thong slipped between my ass cheeks, highlighting my gorgeous buttocks. I let down my hair, which was 18” long and totally natural except for the flat iron I ran over it every morning. I slipped into the knee high stockings Mark had left me and clipped them to the garter hanging from the teddy.

 

The final piece of the outfit was a pair of six inch Louboutin heels. Mark liked spoiling me like this, even if he knew I could afford everything he bought me and more all on my own. With fifteen minutes to spare, I worked on my makeup. I brushed dark shadow around my grey eyes and finished a smokey eye makeup look. I’d been waiting all week to see Mark and I knew when he walked in through that door, he’d rock my world.

 

Life got so much better for me when I learned to keep things casual with men. With Darius, I’d made mistakes. I’d thought all men were like my daddy — good, honest and willing to go the distance. But I’d learned that modern love was a lie. And as I’ve told you, Mark was honest. If there was a potential for love here, we’d never allow ourselves to explore it. We were a generation built for casual encounters, not lasting love, and I had to force myself to be “ok” with that, despite my childhood dreams of a big wedding and everlasting love.

 

If such a thing had ever existed, I was convinced that it had died many years ago.

 

I heard Mark walk in and I stood in the doorway to his bedroom waiting for him. He bounded up the stairs knowing what awaited him. When he saw me in the doorway, Mark let out a loud, long whistle.

 

“Holy shit that looks good on you.”

 

I spun around in the doorway giving him a look at all my goodies. He whistled again.

 

“Like what you see?”

Mark scoffed, “Hell yeah I like it. Come here baby.”

I strut towards him in my heels and let Mark wrap me in his arms. After a hellish week his arms engulfed me in the kind of warmth and comfort that I needed. He tilted my chin up towards his lips and then kissed me long and slow. He gripped my ass cheeks as he kissed me and pulled me closer.

 

“Mmmm,” I mumbled as he pulled me in for a second kiss.

“I can’t believe how good this looks on you.”

I pulled away from him and smirked, “You probably say that to all your girls.”

 

“Maybe you all look good.”

 

I dove in for another kiss. Mark gripped my waist again and I could feel his dick stirring in his pants. He wasn’t a man for wasting time at all. 

 

“Easy there, we have all night,” I reminded him.

 

He pulled away, “You’re right. Tell me about work today.”

“On second thoughts,” I replied, “Maybe we should just get right to it.”

 

Mark grinned. The tricky bastard. He knew the last thing I’d want to get into was figures and tables, especially not with a guy that looked like him standing in front of me.

 

“Wine?” Mark offered.

 

“No thanks, let’s just head into the bedroom.”

 

He grinned and followed me. I knew he was checking out my ass as I walked ahead and Mark couldn’t help himself but to whistle again as I reclined back on his kingsized bed. He kept his eyes on me as he started to strip down to nothing. I watched as Mark revealed his body piece by piece. 

 

He pulled off his work shirt and his rock hard abs came into view. Mark was the biggest gym rat I’d ever seen — spending hours a day sculpting his body despite the fact that he was one of the highest paid anesthesiologist in the country, he always found time to dedicate to his physique. He didn’t just look good for forty; he looked good compared to anybody.

Mark undid his belt and slipped into just his underwear. His dick bulged through his boxer briefs and I felt my pussy stirring with anticipation as he walked towards the bed. Mark’s dick redefined my perception of a “big dick”. He wasn’t just long, but his dick was thick and huge veins wrapped around his beautiful, dusky pink member. 

 

As Mark climbed into bed with me, he pulled me close and started to kiss me on the lips again. I ran my hand down his abs and grasped his cock through his boxers. He pushed me onto my back and positioned himself on top of me. He kissed and kissed me, letting his hand trail over the lace teddy that covered my body.

 

I kicked off the heels and allowed Mark to trace the outline of my hips and to squeeze onto bits of my flesh as his hands roved over my body. Mark’s hands hovered outside my pussy lips and he began to massage my mound slowly through my lingerie. I began to writhe beneath him, encouraging him to reach for my clit and start coaxing me to climax.

 

Mark stopped abruptly and then moved back up to kissing my lips. He used his hands to slip the teddy off my shoulders, around my voluptuous breasts and down to my hips. Mark struggled to slip the outfit around my buttocks, but soon I was lying there naked before him — no more lingerie and no stockings. Half the fun of the outfit was pulling it off me.

 

He looked at my shaved wetness between my legs and licked his lips.

 

“I’ve been waiting all day to taste you.”

He began to kiss my stomach and then the top of my mound. I squirmed as his tongue traced my thighs and my desire for him deepened. Mark squeezed my thighs and spread my legs open to allow himself greater access to what was between my legs. He inhaled the scent of my wetness and groaned with euphoria. 

 

He loved my scent, my wetness and my taste more than life itself. Receiving Mark’s kisses between my thighs drove me wild. He knew exactly where to touch me and for how long and he could bring me to writhing, shrieking orgasms at the slightest touch. Mark was great in bed — better in bed than anyone I’d been with. What made him even better was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about him. I could just be.

 

I gasped as Mark’s tongue made contact with my clit for the first time that night. I squirmed slightly and he pressed my thighs into the bed holding me still.

 

“Don’t move,” He commanded.

 

I obliged him and tried to hold my breath as Mark began to lap at my pussy greedily. I held still, but I couldn’t keep quiet. I let out a loud moan as Mark’s tongue grazed my clit and as he eagerly sucked on my pussy lips and the flesh between them.

 

“Ohhhh yes!” I cried out. I could already feel a climax coming close.

 

“Don’t stop,” I whimpered again.

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Dark Romance Books: Meeting The Twins

dark romance books meeting the twinsLove dark romance books? Jamila Jasper's latest release will satisfy your craving for interracial romance and a dark romance plot. This saucy BWWM romance novel tells the story of a black woman named Alyssa who is caught between two difficult choices. Falling for a pair of intense, masculine white twin brothers completely rocks Alyssa's hum-drum world. Check out more of the description to learn more and keep reading for the full two chapters featured on this website. 

Alyssa Coleman is hard on her luck after losing her job as a programmer and getting dumped by her boyfriend Shawn. A chance encounter in a cafe where she’s drafting her cover letter to a big tech company leads her to meeting Galen Radcliffe, an attractive blonde artist who instantly falls for her sweet demeanor. Their date goes far better than expected and Alyssa’s week is topped off by a swanky new job… 

Her first day at work, Alyssa is shocked to meet her boss who looks exactly like Galen in every way. Did her date lie to her? When Alyssa confronts her boss, she discovers his name is Dante Radcliffe. He’s the CEO of the tech company where she’s just been employed and he’s Galen’s identical twin brother.

At first, Alyssa is able to keep her romance with Galen out of the office, but as she pulls longer and longer hours with Dante, her feelings for both of them begin to get muddled.

When Galen announces a possible move to New York City and Dante proves himself to be more of a playboy than Alyssa realized, she wants to be through with them forever.

But things just aren’t that simple when true love is on the line… 

As Alyssa fights to do what’s right without anyone getting hurt, she’ll have to make more than a few difficult choices. Meeting the Radcliffe twins was far more of a game changer than she could have ever imagined… 

Dark Romance Books Excerpts: Meeting The Twins

 

Chapter 1

 

The whirring of the blender in the café stirred Alyssa Coleman from her deep state of focus. As she heard the friendly blonde barista calling her name, she got her smoothie and re-seated herself at the isolated corner table. She stared at the top of her word processor: To Whom It May Concern

 

Click… Click...Click…

 

She erased the opening and tried again: Dear Sir or Madam…

 

Alyssa sighed and sipped on her “Meta Boost” smoothie. She hadn’t expected to be searching for a job again. She certainly hadn’t expected to have to write another cover letter. The process wasn’t just grueling; it felt pretty fruitless too. Despite her degree and her experience, Alyssa felt like just another nobody. Companies didn’t want to hire her and she couldn’t figure out why: was it racism? Sexism? Was she really just not good enough?

 

When Alyssa got her degree in computer science everyone in her family had shown up to her graduation proud that their baby girl had made it. Now, there were no more cowbells and tambourines to celebrate her every move. Her family questioned why she hadn’t been able to keep a job and then more importantly, why she hadn’t been able to keep a man.

 

Just when Alyssa thought life couldn’t get harder. She’d just lost her job working with a mid-sized tech firm as a programmer when her boyfriend Shawn had dumped her. She was quickly turning from the family’s prized sheep to the black sheep and she didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Life was supposed to work out if you did everything right. And Alyssa had done everything right. She’d been Shawn’s ride or die and he left her for a girl who had barely graduated high school whose “career” was posting half naked photos online.

 

Alyssa felt betrayed by everybody. Nobody had warned her that she could end up thirty years old with no boyfriend, no job and bills on bills on bills.

 

Alyssa kept her mind plastered on her cover letter as she thought about her meeting with Maeve later that day. Alyssa and Maeve Wilson were more different than any two people could be. Alyssa had deep, sable colored skin and Maeve was paper white. Alyssa had black hair that fell in tight ringlets around her shoulders while Maeve was a redhead with pin straight hair that reached her waist. Alyssa was a gritty computer scientist and programmer while Maeve was a spiritual healer who held all kinds of New Age beliefs.

 

Despite their differences, the two were close friends. Even if Alyssa was an out of practice Christian, she had to admit that there was something to Maeve’s beliefs. At least she always felt a sense of peace and calm around Maeve that she didn’t feel around anyone else. Maeve was highly empathetic and gave the best advice. Alyssa was so looking forward to this meeting. She was desperate to meet someone, anyone to take her mind off Shawn.

 

Alyssa clacked away at her keyboard, going through the motions of drafting yet another cover letter. Alyssa heard the sound of the milk steamer as the baristas behind her made yet another drink. As the barista’s heels clicked across the coffee shop floor, Alyssa looked up and watched the next events unfold in slow motion.

 

The barista missed the fact that Alyssa’s computer charger was stretched across the coffee shop floor and inserted into the nearest plug. By the time the barista realized the computer charger was there, her heel got caught in the cord and she fell to the ground in slow motion. The cup of steaming hot coffee she was carrying flew out of her hand and traveled through the air like an ocean wave landing on the customer who it was intended for.

 

“SHIT! OH SHIT!” The man yelled standing up and removing his steaming t-shirt in the middle of the coffee shop. The barista was on the ground looking up at him with the perfect cocktail of shame and humiliation in her eyes.

 

She stood up and tried to apologize with tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

 

“It’s fine,” The man growled.

 

At that point Alyssa had to step in.

 

“Hey, I’m so sorry,” She said to the barista.

 

Alyssa continued, “And you too sir. I should have warned you about my cord.”
 

“It’s okay,” The barista said.

 

“Yeah… I hope this one’s on the house,” The man growled again.

 

“Yes! Yes of course sir! Why don’t I go get you a warm cookie in the back,” The barista tittered.

 

“Any spare shirts back there?” He teased.

 

The barista looked confused but then scurried to the back of the coffee shop probably to escape more than anything.

 

Alyssa turned to the guy who was standing shirtless in the near empty coffee shop and offered him a personal apology.

 

“Hey, I’m so sorry… Are you hurt from the coffee?”

 

The guy smiled and replied, “Well it certainly hurts but I’ve been burned worse.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I’m kidding… but also, I’m Galen,” He said.

 

“Alyssa… Nice to meet you.”

 

“Nice to meet you to. Mind if we talk for a while? I’ll share my free cookie with you,” He said.

 

Galen sat across from Alyssa shirtless, apparently not caring about the fact that he was in a public venue. The barista hustled from the back with a warm chocolate chip cookie and apologized profusely for not having extra shirts. Galen didn’t seem to notice. He’d already found something else to occupy his time.

 

He split the cookie in half and handed it to Alyssa. As his hand crossed over the table, Alyssa couldn’t help but notice how thick his hands were and how his bulging blue veins traveled all the way up his arm.

 

“So, what are you up to on this fine day,” Galen said.

“Writing a cover letter. I’m one of America’s many unemployed and I’m struggling to write something that doesn’t sound inauthentic.”

 

“Corporate America values inauthentic.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

“I’m not joking. But I guess I sound a little pretentious don’t I? Curse of being an artist.”

 

“An artist? In this economy?” Alyssa teased.

 

Galen smiled and his hazel eyes gleamed. Alyssa was glad that he could take a joke.

 

“So what kind of job are you looking for?” Galen asked.

 

Alyssa bit down on her lower lip. She was always nervous telling people about her profession. Many people were bold enough to accuse her of lying -- they just couldn’t believe that a black woman could be a programmer. Others would just give her doubtful looks as if they were trying their best to believe her but simply couldn’t. Alyssa figured she needed to stop caring what strangers thought of her so she answered honestly.

 

“Honestly? I’m a programmer. Looking for a job in tech, maybe consulting.”

 

Galen snorted.

 

“No way, just like my brother.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Well I wish you luck Alyssa. I know it’s a tough world.”

 

“Don’t I know it…”

 

There was a moment of silence and Alyssa found herself staring at Galen. He was more attractive than she’d even realized. In the frenzy of the hot coffee drama she had hardly noticed that the man she was speaking to was attractive enough to be a model.

 

He had gorgeous pale skin, dirty blonde short cropped hair and hazel eyes.

 

Galen noticed her staring at him.

 

“Think my shirt’s dry enough to wear?” He asked and then dressed. As he dressed Alyssa noticed his muscles flexing and subconsciously bit down on her lower lip even harder.

 

“So… Uh… What kind of art do you do?” She asked awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy and realizing that she’d been flirting with Galen for a while.

 

“Mixed media. I paint, draw, sculpt, anything that uses my hands,” Galen said.

 

“So you’re good with your hands?”

 

“Among other things.”
 

“Well your girlfriend’s a lucky girl,” Alyssa said, throwing out a blatant piece of bait.

 

“Well she would be a lucky girl if I had one,” Galen said.

 

“Oh…”
 

“Speaking of girlfriends, would you like to go on a date tonight?”
 

“Tonight?”

 

“Yes,” Galen said, amused by her shock.

 

Alyssa nodded. “I’m supposed to meet up with my friend in a few so maybe after? Call me,” She said.

 

Alyssa reached into her purse and pulled out her minimalist business card, handing it to Galen. She stood up and packed up her belongings.

 

“I’d better go Galen. See you later?”

 

He nodded and continued sitting in Alyssa’s spot as she walked out the door.

 

Drinks with Maeve always went one of two ways. They would either end fantastically with drunken singing and/or karaoke OR Maeve would spout some of her spiritual beliefs, Alyssa would get upset with her and they would spend the next three days fighting.

 

Alyssa had a feeling things would go the second route. They’d started off the night with mojitos and Alyssa had just returned from a “session” with a client. She was in the headspace that Alyssa was so often aggravated by. They’d been talking (read: Maeve had been lecturing) about the power of healing quartz when Alyssa decided to change the subject.

 

“So after this, I have a date Maeve… I met this attractive guy named Galen in the coffee shop after I wrapped up my cover letter today. Oh my goodness he was so cute,” Alyssa started.

 

Maeve’s face lit up, “Cute? Did he look like Shawn?”

 

Alyssa snorted. “No! He did not look like Shawn. This guy was white okay and he’s an artist.”

 

“Hm… Did you find out his sign?”

 

“His sign?”

 

“Leo? Scorpio? Gemini?”

 

“Maeve!”

 

“Okay okay, tell me about him.”

 

“Well he was so hot and I don’t know… I’m kind of into that brooding artist type after Shawn. He seems laid back.”

 

“But you aren’t laid back at all,” Maeve said.

 

Alyssa glared at her.

 

“Exactly Maeve, it’s called balance.”

 

Maeve closed her eyes and sipped on her mojito a few times. Alyssa hated when Maeve went “into her special place” while they were out together. She sighed dramatically as she waited for Maeve to return to planet earth.

 

Maeve’s eyes snapped open and she reached across the table and held onto Alyssa’s arm.

 

“What is it Maeve,” Alyssa asked in a flat tone that barely masked her frustration.

 

“I’m getting a strong negative feeling. Chaos… Problems…”

 

“Okay so what? You’re getting a ‘feeling’ this guy isn’t right for me?” Alyssa snapped.

 

“No, I’m not saying that at all. Just be careful. You barely know him and you have… other things to focus on,” Maeve cautioned.

 

Alyssa sighed and answered, “Well thanks for the input.”

 

“Don’t take it personally Alyssa.”

 

Alyssa was still glaring.

 

“Alyssa, it’s just a warning,” Maeve pleaded.

 

“I’m sick of your warnings. Can’t I have anything good Maeve?! I’ve practically lost everything and I don’t need some soothsayer predicting gloom and doom.”

 

Maeve grinned, “Really Alyssa, soothsayer?”

 

They both looked at each other a burst into laughter. Alyssa was still a bit peeved but she realized that maybe she was overreacting. No matter what, Maeve always had her best interests at heart.

 

“Okay crazy, I’ll try to be careful,” Alyssa mumbled.

 

“Thanks,” Maeve added. She then launched into a spiel about her latest plans for spiritual healing and which crystals she was trying to order from Mexico. Alyssa might have been tired of listening to her but she was far away from their little table in the bar. She was anxiously anticipating her date with Galen and imagining how far things could go. Who knows, maybe this chance encounter would lead to something far greater than she ever imagined.

 

Hopefully there would be no need to be careful.

 

Chapter 2

 

Alyssa wondered if she should have dressed up more for her date with Galen. It had been a long time since she’d gone out with a man she barely knew and the wounds from Shawn were still fresh. Alyssa hated to think of herself as one of those bitter women who didn’t trust anybody but Shawn had built up her walls more than he’d broken them down. Alyssa had just parted ways with Maeve and she had to admit that Maeve’s warning was haunting her. Sometimes that crazy girl was actually right about her predictions and Alyssa knew that she was taking a risk.

What did she even know about Galen? He was kind enough to share his free cookie, he was an artist and of course, he looked incredible with his shirt off. Was that really all it took to grab her interest? Alyssa walked down the street to the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. A classic, American style restaurant revealed absolutely nothing about Galen’s tastes or interests.

 

Alyssa’s hair was pinned back in a neat bun and her outfit was tasteful rather than revealing. Even if it had been a while since she was in the dating game, she knew that the key to a first date was keeping things tasteful. Alyssa walked into the restaurant and scanned the room for Galen. He saw her before she saw him and gestured for her to come over to his table. Wow. Alyssa was stunned. Galen had been appealing enough in the coffee shop but now he was sexy. He wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy -- dark wash denim jeans and a plain fitted v-neck -- but something about the way he wore the outfit was driving Alyssa wild.

 

He pulled out the chair and gestured for Alyssa to sit. She was trying to play it cool but soon Alyssa realized that she was beaming like an idiot.  They looked at the menu in silence and then decided on what to eat.

 

When they put their orders in, Alyssa got down to business. She was intrigued by Galen's entire persona. He had chosen a nice enough restaurant so even if he was an artist he obviously wasn't struggling.

 

“So Galen, what exactly does an artist do to stay afloat. I mean, is there really money in art these days?”

 

Galen chuckled. He appreciated how quickly Alyssa got to the point.

 

“Well, I wouldn't say art keeps me afloat but a man has to find ways of doing what he loves.”

 

“Agreed. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones whose passions in life happened to be profitable.”

 

“And what passion would that be exactly,” Galen asked smirking.

 

Alyssa shrugged. “Programming, computers, technology, it's all so amazing.”

 

“And that's your passion?”

 

Alyssa nodded.

 

“I love that humanity as a whole has come so far. We have advanced… We have created more than even our grandparents could have imagined and I've always wanted to work in a field that creates.”

 

Galen tried to hide his scoff.

 

He interjected, “But don't you think this focus on advancement has numbed our minds to the true beauty of the world Alyssa? What about art or literature.”

 

“Art or literature can't save lives the way science can,” Alyssa scoffed.

 

Galen became brooding but his response was interrupted by the arrival of their meal. Alyssa wondered if she had become too defensive too quickly. She knew that. Ring a woman in the scientific field made her hardened to debate. Alyssa wondered if she’d lost some of her softness in the process of pursuing her dream career.

 

They began eating in marked silence.

 

“Art and literature have saved more people than science Alyssa, just in ways you technophiles can’t seem to grasp,” Galen growled.

 

Alyssa knew that she could either keep up this debate or be the bigger person. It was time for her to show what she’d learned from her previous failed relationships…

 

“Hey, I don’t mean to argue. I’m sorry. I know that it must feel terrible to have people talk badly about your career,” Alyssa said. She flashed Galen a smile, hoping that would be enough to smooth things over.

 

“It’s fine,” Galen replied.

 

Galen kept eating and then after a while he said, “You know… I just don’t get how people don’t follow their passions. I know art… the whole art world can be hard but it’s just lazy if you ask me.”

 

Alyssa could feel her blood pressure rising again. She liked Galen for a lot of reasons but she was quickly finding out that there was one area where they would always disagree.

 

“Well maybe not everyone’s in a position to do so,” Alyssa replied, shrugging her shoulders and trying not to appear too invested in the entire thing.

 

Galen scoffed, “You really believe that? I don’t know Alyssa. I see so many unhappy people and my theory is that they choose to be unhappy.”

 

Alyssa wasn’t sure that she could hold back, “Come on Galen… It’s just not that simple.”

 

“I think it is,” He said, ignorant to the fact that this line of conversation was upsetting his date.

 

“Well I think that not everyone’s born with a silver spoon in their mouth,” Alyssa blurted out, immediately regretting what she’d said. So much for not coming off as catty and judgmental.

 

Galen dropped his fork and raised his eyebrows.

 

“I resent that,” He said calmly.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’ve got to speak your mind I guess,” Galen said sarcastically.

 

“Listen, I’m sorry okay? Maybe it’s good we find out where we disagree so early in the game,” Alyssa pleaded.

 

Galen smiled.

 

“You’re right. Maybe you would have found out how stubborn I was when it was far too late.”

 

The tension between them dissipated and the subject of conversation shifted quickly away from an arts vs. technology debate that would have surely ended the night prematurely. Alyssa decided to take interest in Galen’s passion and she asked him what he wish non-artists knew about art…

 

As he started speaking to her about his passion, his eyes filled with a light that Alyssa hadn’t noticed before. He was energized by his love of art and Alyssa couldn’t help but wonder how that energy translated elsewhere. Was it possible that Galen was just as fiery and intense about his lovers as he was about his art? Shawn hadn’t had a lick of creativity in him, maybe Galen was just what Alyssa needed.

 

They finished up their meal and Galen took the check before Alyssa could even offer to pay her half of the bill. She was secretly relieved that he payed because until she got another job, she was trying to live more frugally.

 

“So… Want to do something else?”

 

“Maybe we could get a coffee, take a quick walk?” Galen suggested.

 

It sounded pleasant enough. As they left the restaurant arm in arm, Alyssa started to feel more connected to Galen. He asked her questions about her previous job, her love of programming and how she got started in such a field. Those weren’t unusual questions; there had never been very many black female programmers in Alyssa’s world and most people wondered how she’d even broken past those glass ceilings. Alyssa had always attributed her success to three things: hard work, dedication and faith. Those had carried her a long way.

 

Galen might have been in a different field entirely, but he still knew the value of hard work and dedication.

 

They both ordered black coffees as strong as their personalities and took a quick walk around town. Alyssa was starting to feel that this date with Galen might turn into something more; she definitely wouldn’t have been opposed to a second date.

 

“So Galen… if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you looking for. I don’t want to be pushy it’s just that I’m fresh out of a relationship that had a pretty awful ending. I’m not looking to make any more mistakes.”

 

Galen squeezed her hand.

 

“Don’t worry, we can take things slow. I like you Alyssa. There’s something about you that’s so different but at the same time, so peaceful to be around. I’m hoping that we can do this again.”

 

“So am I.”

 

Galen continued, “To tell you the truth, my heart’s been broken in the past. I know this tortured artist thing might seem cliched but I have to tell you, I’ve been through some terrible things.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alyssa said.

 

“It’s alright. I’m not looking for pity Alyssa. I just want to let you know that if I seem guarded, that’s why.”

 

“Ready to head home?” Galen asked.

 

Alyssa nodded. The night had gone well but it was about time to wrap it up. If things went on any later into the night, who knows what kind of expectations Galen could come up with. He didn’t seem like he was that kind of guy but they never really did, did they?

 

As they walked to her place, Galen pulled her close. Their conversation pace was slowing down, matching the winding of the evening. Alyssa felt the spring breeze picking up around her and she walked even closer to Galen matching his stride. As she clutched his large bicep, she wondered if all artists spent that much time at the gym. Galen was obviously strong with thick natural musculature that accentuated his lean physique.

 

When they arrived at Alyssa’s apartment, she let Galen walk her to the door, using her body language to make it clear that she wasn’t going to let him upstairs on the first date.

 

“So, we’ll do this again?” Galen asked.

 

Alyssa stood next to him, looking into his eyes and noticing that Galen was a towering 6’4” for the first time. She nodded, keeping her eyes locked with his and hoping desperately that he got the hint about what she wanted.

 

“Yes, I’d love that,” Alyssa added, letting the words spill out of her mouth slow and precise.

 

Galen leaned forward and held onto the small of Alyssa’s back pulling her close. He pressed his soft rosebud lips to hers for the first time. As he kissed her, Alyssa felt the electricity of fresh romance and arousal shoot through her body. She reached up and held onto Galen’s face, kissing him back hard letting him know that she felt exactly as he did.

 

Alyssa didn’t want to pull away from what had been the most electrifying kiss of her life to date. Finally, a need for oxygen caused Alyssa to come up for air. She pulled back and opened her eyes, looking right into Galen’s eyes and seeing the desire that she expected. She understood because she wanted it too. Just not now, not yet.

 

“May I have another?” Galen whispered.

 

Alyssa nodded and tip toed up to his lips again. The second kiss wasn’t dulled by the initial one and Alyssa easily slipped into arousal again. She pulled away and whispered, “I’ve got to go…”

 

Galen nodded and then watched her leave. Alyssa’s heart was pounding as she closed the door behind her. The date hadn’t been perfect but perfect wouldn’t have been real. Alyssa couldn’t wait to tell Maeve that her prediction had been wrong. There had been no big drama, no disaster waiting to happen. It had been decidedly normal. Alyssa was happy for that. She needed some normal in her life. All she needed for everything to be in her order was a new job.

For the first time in a while, Alyssa felt like things were looking up.

Currently, this book is not available on Amazon but will be published soon. If you would like to be the first to know when the rest of this book is released, join Jamila Jasper's e-mail list. Click here to sign up for Jamila's NO SPAM guaranteed list.  If you're interested in more stories like this one, check out this saucy short story by Orlena James. Illicit Love Affair by Orlena James is a hot hot hot BWWM romance story. Click here to read more! 

Romance Novel Excerpts: American Billionaire's Caribbean Dream

Romance Novel Excerpts - American Billionaire's Caribbean DreamIf you're searching for romance novel excerpts of fresh, steamy contemporary romance books, check out American Billionaire's Caribbean Dream by Jamila Jasper. This is one of of her hottest interracial romance books set in a small island in the Caribbean...

You'll want to check out this loving tale of an unexpected romance between an Afro-Caribbean hotel worker and a vacationer. This story is full of twists and turns that will keep you turning the page until the very end.

American billionaire Wayne Baldwin has traveled to a well known couple's resort on a small Caribbean island to try to mend his marriage with his wife Bridget. As mending his marriage seems to be growing more and more impossible, he meets an attractive hotel worker, Trisha Jn Marie.

Trisha is an Afro-Caribbean woman whose life always seems to be spiraling out of control. Her younger sister has ovarian cancer and her verbally abusive mother relies on her to financially support their family. Love is the <i>last</i> thing on Trisha's mind, especially when she meets Wayne, the handsome but off-limits hotel guest.

When Wayne discovers that his wife Bridget is cheating on him, he wants nothing more than to pursue his attraction to Trisha. But Trisha's morals get in the way of her being with a married man; she refuses to be with Wayne until he leaves his wife. However, Bridget isn't quite so willing to let go of her cash cow...

Will Wayne and Trisha get a chance to be together without everything falling apart? As both of their personal lives start to get out of control, their love will have to withstand numerous tests for them to ever get their happily ever after ending...

Romance Novel Excerpts: American Billionaire's Caribbean Dream

 

Chapter 1

The morning sun beat down on the island like a whip. As Trisha waited for the bus to take her to [REDACTED], one of the biggest couple’s hotel chains in the region, she felt the sting of the sun particularly harshly. Sweat dripped from her brow and she reached into her fake Michael Kors bag to pull out a white rag to dry her face. It was so early in the morning and she was already sweating. Trisha adjusted her white collared shirt and tucked it into her black pencil skirt. A few other employees she recognized gathered at the bus stop and Trisha greeted and hugged them before they boarded.

 

It was before seven in the morning and Trisha already knew that she was going to have a long day. She’d gotten to bed at around two in the morning because her younger sister had been ill. Her sister Naomi was twelve years old -- around eighteen years younger than Trisha -- and she suffered from asthma as well as bouts of pneumonia that sent everyone in the Jn Marie family into a state of panic. That night, Naomi had been coughing and spewing phlegm, completely unresponsive to Trisha’s hourly rub-downs with Vicks.

 

The bus rolled around the pot-hole checkered roads at nearly breakneck speed. Trisha put her headphones in and listened to her morning gospel music as the bus took her to work. Her relaxed hair was pinned back into a neat bun with not a single strand out of place. The cool air conditioning in the bus helped Trisha relax just a bit before work. It was hard to be relaxed these days with Naomi sicker than ever and her mother even more tense than usual. Trisha lived with her mother, her sister and sometimes, her younger brother in a small three room house in a small village South of the hotel where she worked. Times were tough and money was tight but they had each other…

 

Trisha might have felt happier about being at home if she wasn’t also facing a massive amount of family pressure. Everyone in her family and in her church wanted so much from her. She was supposed to make money to support them, take care of her sister, find a good man, marry him, have kids and all of that without ever missing a Sunday of church. Trisha didn’t know if she could handle all of it. But what was there to do? All Trisha could think of was praying more… Asking God for guidance and for help with her life. By God’s grace, things would improve.

 

The bus pulled onto the hotel compound and Trisha descended, ready to start her day. Her job was grueling and tiring. Sometimes at the end of the day, Trisha thought her face would explode if she had to smile at another white person who often times looked down at her as if she were nothing more than a slave. Trisha couldn’t stand them sometimes but what was she to do? Work was work and that was it. She needed this job badly. She’d already been fired from a few jobs due to downsizing and even if the hotel industry was notorious for abusing workers, her family needed the money.

 

Trisha began her workday with nothing out of the ordinary. Trisha’s rich russet brown skin glowed underneath the Caribbean sun. She’d made her way to the plunge pool and began the arduous (and boring) task of folding the clean towels that housekeeping had tossed her way. It was one of Trisha’s least favorite activities and she often spent around three to four hours every day just folding the towels into the perfect shape that the hotel managers had taught them. At least these days, Trisha didn’t have to work in complete silence. She could listen to her audiobooks unless there was a guest nearby. Ignoring a guest could get you fired faster than you could say “Sorry” at this particular hotel.

 

Noting how quiet it was, Trisha placed her headphones on and started listening to a steamy story about a white woman who had fallen in love with a big burly black man. Typical. These men always went after white girls… Trisha was enjoying the story anyways. Her aunt from New York had gifted her a three generations old Samsung and Trisha hadn’t put it down once she received it. After a while, Trisha finally got into a groove. The cadence of the narrator’s voice fit perfectly with her folding. Trisha was lost in a world other than her own -- a world of white people who had millions of dollars at their disposal and who always got their happily ever after endings.

 

Trisha was startled from her perfect fantasy world by a tap on her shoulder.

 

“Sexy!”

 

Trisha glared hard at her boss. Sylvester Charles was one of the usual sleazy men who worked at the hotel. He’d achieved his status as manager solely due to the fact that he was a man -- he had no particular skills and many harder working women had been passed up. That was the way things were on this island. Women worked as hard as dogs only to be stomped on and passed up.

 

“Good morning Sylvester,” Trisha said flatly.

 

“Your backside really lookin’ nice and round today!”

 

“What do you want?” Trisha huffed, folding her arms and giving Sylvester her best cross look.

 

“You know what I want sweetness and I know you’re not willing to give it to me.”

 

Trisha’s facial expression didn’t change. She didn’t want to let Sylvester think that any of his lines were working on her. She wasn’t interested and he just didn’t seem to get it.

 

“Do you think that’s proper conversation for work?”

 

Sylvester just grinned and gave Trisha’s bottom a tight squeeze.

 

“Sylvester! Behave yourself!” She yelled.

 

“Quiet your mouth baby before you disturb one of our guests,” He said grinning. He knew that he’d won. If Trisha dared make a scene in front of guests, she’d lose the job that she desperately needed.

 

“Please go away,” Trisha hissed in a lowered voice.

 

Sylvester toyed with her for a few more minutes and then said, “Alright Trisha. Go work the bar for the morning. Tonya is sick and she’s at the health center.”

 

Trisha tried not to roll her eyes; working at the bar was far better than working near the plunge pool anyways. There couldn’t possibly be anything more boring than folding towels. Trisha walked to the bar and started going through the motions to get the bar open. Amazing how some of these tourists hit the bar even before lunch. Many of them were bigger drinkers than the men hanging around the rum shops.

 

Trisha thought her morning would continue on peacefully until she saw a rather unhappy looking couple approaching the bar. The one perk of Trisha’s job was getting to know the intimate details of strangers’ lives. Many of the hotel’s vacationers hardly saw the workers as people. They certainly didn’t care about sharing the intimate details of their lives in front of them. At the very least, Trisha was often left with a good story.

 

The couple sat down on bar stools next to each other but they barely looked at each other. Trisha put on her customer service face and offered, “Good morning! I hope you’re enjoying this beautiful Caribbean morning. What can I offer you today?”

 

The woman pursed her lips as if she was displeased Trisha even spoke to her. The man seemed a bit warmer. A smile attempted to crawl its way across his face and he replied, “I’d like a tequila sunrise please dear.”

 

His wife was still scowling and she practically refused to say a word.

 

“Bridget, why don’t you tell the nice lady what you want?” The husband asked.

 

His wife glared for a moment and then mumbled, “What’s good here?”

 

Trisha rattled off what she’d been trained to say, “Our most popular cocktails here are the margarita, the white Russian and the Pina Colada.”

 

Bridget grumbled, “Just get me a vodka on ice.”

 

“Absolutely, your drinks will be out in a minute.”

 

Bridget got to work making the drinks. This was her usual fare so it didn’t take her more than a couple minutes to finish. Once she was done, she presented the drinks to the scowling wife and husband.

 

Trisha was about to turn around and clean the bar when Bridget called to her, “Wait! Um… Miss… Can I ask you a question? I want someone to settle a little disagreement between me and Wayne here.”

 

Great. Trisha knew from experience that getting involved in white people’s marital troubles was a bad move. But it was also a bad move to say “no” to a guest. Anything they wanted, they got. The hotel wasn’t supposed to give anything less than the five star experience promised on the tv commercials. Hell, couples even threatened to sue the hotel because it rained one time.

 

“Sure, what is your question ma’am?” Trisha asked, putting on her most polite customer service voice and mellowing her accent so it would be comprehensible to the American guests.

 

Bridget said, “So okay. Let’s say your husband takes you on an all expenses paid, inclusive Caribbean vacation… And then you want an exclusive tour of the island… But this tour costs two thousand dollars more than you planned… Shouldn’t he try to make it work because it's a once in a lifetime opportunity?”

 

Trisha couldn’t relate to a single thing this woman had said. Husband? All expenses paid vacation? Two thousand U.S. dollars?! This was far out of Trisha’s scope. However, she knew that keeping a wife happy was more important than a husband, so she recycled a great stock response that she used around the hotels.

 

“A tour of our island would be exquisite. There are many historical and natural sites around the island that I’m sure you would find pleasurable!”

 

“SEE! She agrees with me you cheap bastard!”

 

Her husband Wayne winced. Even Trisha was shocked. This woman was very clearly completely spoiled by her husband yet it still wasn’t enough. Trisha was at least savvy enough to keep this thought to herself. Wayne shrugged his shoulders and replied to his wife, “Listen Bridget. You know I’d love to take a tour of the island and its not the price that’s bothering me.”

 

“Well what the hell is bothering you Wayne?!”

 

Bridget was raising her voice again and Trisha was a fly on the wall, cleaning the bar and organizing the glasses while staying out of sight. If this couple needed their drinks topped up, she would make an appearance but until then, she didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire of their argument. Trisha faded into the background and pretended that she wasn’t observing this couple through the corner of her eye.

 

The wife Bridget seemed eccentric and loud, but overall she was very beautiful and tastefully dressed. She had long dirty blonde hair that fell down the middle of her back. Her skin was tanned to an almost orange color and she wore a full face of makeup… All the time. Her husband was gorgeous too. He looked stressed out and exhausted but that couldn’t rid him of his dashing good looks. Wayne was tall with pale skin and short cropped brown hair. His face was covered in thick, chocolate brown stubble and his green eyes were sharp and piercing. Trisha had never seen a white man who was so attractive at this place. Normally the husbands were fat old farts and their wives were ten years younger and in far better shape. This wasn’t the case with Wayne and Bridget…

 

Trisha was broken from her trance by Wayne and Bridget raising their voices at each other again. She would have tuned in to listen except a group of about six couples approached the bar, circumvented the arguing couple and they were intent on ordering. Trisha wondered what the hell the two were fighting about but she hardly had time to dwell on it. Margaritas, Sex On The Beach and Long Island Iced Teas kept her busy until Wayne and Bridget left.

Trisha couldn’t help wondering how long they planned to stay at the resort… She could just tell there was a good story here.

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