Ahoy Matey – Talk Like a Pirate Day

So yesterday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day and I totally missed it! I’m so bummed. I’ve written two pirate stories and have a third planned because I LOVE pirates!

Argghhhh (<–pirate speak)

So in honor of Talk Like a Pirate Day I’m giving you a short excerpt from my first pirate story, Wherever You Are.

Morgan sat at a corner table at The Scabbard, a tankard of ale within easy reach and a willing woman on his knee.

The ale he’d come in search of, the woman was an added bonus. Or so he thought. Now, hours later, he just wanted the whore gone, but couldn’t seem to remove her from his knee. That probably had a lot to do with his very advanced inebriated state.

He took a swig of ale only to find the tankard empty and signaled the barmaid for another. The woman on his lap slipped and grabbed his neck for support. She giggled and placed a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. He pushed at her, but she was like a barnacle he feared his mates would need to scrape from his body.

Blearily, through a thick haze of alcohol, he noted her once red dress had faded to a dull orange. Her breasts were falling out of the tattered garment. Dirty, brown hair hung in her face. He didn’t even want to think what crawled in it.

Disgusted, he looked away. The Scabbard was one of the most dangerous taverns on the docks. Dank and dark, a smoky haze hung over the occupants. The floorboards stuck to your feet when you walked. More than one patron was plastered to the floor, full-bodied.

It was the type of place those without heart and soul congregated, a sort of hell on Earth and Morgan felt right at home. He fingered the cutlass hanging at his side as his gaze swept the room, searching for trouble. Whether to get in to or out of, he didn’t know.

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Sunday Six

From The Notorious Lady Anne (release date 2/11/2013)

He was insufferable, dictatorial, sometimes rude, with a sense of entitlement that being a prisoner would never banish.

He had dark blue eyes that saw too much and well-formed lips too quick to offend.

And yet, she was drawn to this irresistible, irritating, irrational man who willingly left his warm bed to help her tend a man he believed was already condemned to a watery grave.


Her head jerked up and she quickly wiped the tears from her face.

Cutting Room Floor

Its that time of the week again! Cutting room floor. This is the time I invite authors to post those darlings that didn’t make it into their wips but for whatever reason they’re unable (unwilling?) to delete those words entirely. I have to admit, I have pages and pages of cut scenes and lines that I simply can’t part with (Her Dark Knight has 85 pages alone!)

So here’s mine from The Notorious Lady Jane, my pirate historical (not sold yet):

He turned away from the window and limped toward the library where Isabelle and Morgan had been sequestered all morning since the rain kept everyone from the ships’ repairs.

Her voice drove him forward. The soft murmur that haunted his dreams in the middle of the night propelled him toward her. He couldn’t understand the words but it didn’t matter. Her voice alone was enough.

Pausing at the closed door, he pressed his hand to it. By opening the door and stepping in he would turn his back on everything he knew, everything he was, everything he’d hoped to be. He couldn’t fool himself into believing otherwise. Was it worth it? Could he do it?

He closed his eyes, so tempted to turn around. The lure of walking out of the house and never looking back was potent, but not overwhelming. He was being lured to the dark side and was powerless to stop it.



Six Sentence Sunday

Its that time again. Six Sentence Sunday! Because its so cold and windy and, well, cold, I wanted something that will warm us up. A sexy female pirate, a hot nobleman and an even hotter tropical island. This is from The Notorious Lady Jane (as yet unpublished):

Reed sighed and turned to her. The heat was stifling, the breeze non-existent. Sweat dampened his shirt, plastering it to his chest, outlining the chiseled muscles beneath. Muscles she’d laid her hand against for the glorious moments she kissed him.

She turned her gaze back to the blasted barnacles, refusing to look or be tempted.


She closed her eyes at her whispered name, willing him away. Maybe she should build a bloody dungeon to put him in.

Sweet Saturday Sample

Since its snowing here in Ohio I thought I’d pick a scene that reminds us all of summer. Warm waters, tropical beaches. Hot pirates. Yes, you heard me right. Hot pirates. This is from Wherever You Are, my pirate time-travel. Enjoy!

He pulled her closer, lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. This is not a good idea. He blocked his mind from the thoughts. He didn’t care anymore. This was Juliana, the only woman he’d ever loved and damn it, he wanted to kiss her. He cupped her face, closed his eyes and tumbled back fifteen years to a time when the only troubles he had was a geometry test he hadn’t studied for.

Her breath caressed his neck. Her warmth surrounded him, drew him to her. She smelled of fresh sea air and woman. He was lost. Lost to a love he’d buried deep inside himself. To a love that had never gone away, never faded, never ebbed.

She was everything he remembered—warm and sweet, hot and demanding.

His hands slid down her face to her shoulders, her arms, and settled on her hips. He drew her closer until she rested between his thighs. Deep within he sighed, finally feeling complete.

Juliana was here, she was his for now. She may not know it but he did and that was all that mattered in this moment. A memory to cherish, to take with him when she was gone.

Her arms wound around him. Her breasts pushed against his chest and he swallowed a groan of need. It could go no further than this, but for now he would cherish her as he hadn’t been able to for fifteen long years.

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