About The Book:
Title: 12 Alphas 12 Months: Contemporary Sensual Romance Calendar Men
Author: Angie Daniels, Maureen Smith, Yvette Hines, Erosa Knowles, Michelle Monkou, Aliyah Burke, TJ Michaels, Latrivia Nelson , Stephanie Burke
Genre: Adult, Romance
Release Date: July 7, 2015
LIMITED TIME ONLY! .99
USA Today, Amazon and Multi-published Bestselling Authors bring you sensual contemporary romance stories of…
ALPHAS: Military/Vets, Shifters, Blue Collar, Business Men, Athletes, Smoke Jumpers, Doctors and more… Ladies this is the YEAR of your dreams. 12 Alphas 12 Months come and get your calendar men!
All New Stories…with a connection. That’s right. These stories all have a main theme that unites them. Tamela Harvin is a nationally syndicated radio host who left the glitz and glamour of Hollywood to use her fame helping out those less fortunate. She loves a cause. When she contacted by a listener about a grave concern close to her heart; widower fathers struggling to find emotional support and care for their children after a lose of a wife, Tamela gets to work. Calling in all her community activist across the continent and one sharp photographer, Braden Niles, she creates a calendar of hot sexy men to raise money and support.
From one story to another, men are stepping up, and taking it off to help fathers and children in need.
Don’t you want to do your part? One click and your in. .99 cents for a limited time.
Meet your men:
Mr. January
Beg for It by Angie Daniels
Three wild erotic nights will have her begging for more…
Beg For It by Angie Daniels
They followed the beat of nineties music with her high-heel, lime-green pumps echoing on the concrete floor. The popular tunes alone were enough to take her mind back ten years to a bleak period she’d rather forget. When they neared the gym, she noticed the former students standing in the hallways, laughing and talking. Jayla ignored the appreciative male gazes that followed them toward the door. Just any man wouldn’t do, and even then, the last thing she’d be interested in was something romantic. She no longer engaged in relationships. A weekend fling… that was a horse of a different color.
Together they stepped into the gymnasium that was already crowded. Classmates were already mingling, taking photographs, and heavy laughter circulated the room. One guy who looked vaguely familiar whistled as she sauntered past and yet Jayla rolled her eyes heavenward. Ten years ago he wouldn’t have given her the time of day, therefore, she didn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking his way. Instead, she tilted her chin and continued her stride through the doors and over to the registration desk, decorated in the purple and gold school colors, where a very pregnant woman was seated.
“Welcome back to Dixon High!” she greeted in a high-pitched voice. “Names please.”
“I’m Kat James and this is my cousin Jayla Parker.”
“Hi Kat!” she squealed. “I’m Hannah. We use to have American Literature together.”
“Of course,” she said and then batted her eyelashes, which Jayla knew was a clear indication her cousin was lying. Kat had a better chance of remembering some gorgeous guy she’d met in line at the supermarket.
Hannah’s blue eyes studied Jayla before a puzzled frown marred her forehead. “Jayla… hmm, I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”
Oh course she didn’t. What was there to remember?
Quit running in the halls before I have to give you a citation!
Spit out that gum!
Jayla gave herself a mental shake, then stood off to the side as she waited for her name-tag. She would not allow anything to drag her mind down that dark path. Instead, she would do what she had done for years—focus on reinvention and elevation. Dedication and hard work had eventually paid off. And as a result, she was no longer that frumpy hall monitor who lurked the corridors, instead she was the new, beautiful, free-spirited version Jayla Parker.
Jayla’s eyes traveled around the large space the reunion committee had transformed into a night club. Strobe lighting. Two cash bars. A dozen waitresses working the floor. While looking over at a table in the corner, something caught her attention.
Someone.
Jayla swallowed. There he was. Stefano Ortiz.
Jayla recognized him immediately. Former track star. Mr. Popular. Even after all these years, he was fiercely sexy, and muy caliente. All it took was one sweep of his dark eyes and heat flooded through her so suddenly she nearly stumbled back. Kat was calling her name, but Jayla was catatonic and her feet felt glued to the floor. How was it even possible for Stefano to be more handsome than before? she wondered. And yet the proof was sitting right in front of her. The years had only intensified his fine qualities. His Latino features were so mesmerizing, she felt her tongue sliding across her lips.
And cream inching down her inner thighs.
He had eyes black as the midnight sky, a shadowed face with lean cheeks and a strong nose. His hair was dark and thick, cut a little too short for her taste and yet her fingers itched to stroke his head, and then there was his beautiful dark skin. However, what penetrated into her soul, like an explicit dream, was the memories of the deep accented timbre of his voice when he spoke Spanish.
Her nerve-endings were firing in a way she had not experienced before and Jayla quickly hauled her eyes away. Back in high school, all of the girls, especially the cliques, whimpered with desire when he walked by. Stefano was used to girls wanting him, and a little twist of bitterness clenched inside her at the memories. Back then, he hadn’t given a girl like her the time of day.
But now she was a woman. And tonight, all was about to change.
~
Mr. February
Got your Six by Erosa Knowles
In the end, the only words he needed were hers in Reclamation: Got your Six by Erosa Knowles.
~
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
Mr. March
Succulent by TJ Michaels
Twilight Teahouse ~ Choosing something decadent from our menu…
Excerpt for Succulent ~ A Twilight Teahouse Story
by T.J. Michaels
Did it really mean nothing that the documents she’d accidentally seen proved that he’d changed his itinerary and cancelled the next four yoga conventions so he could get home to her and stay there?
Well…did it?
By sheer force of will, Madison pushed all of her concerns to the back of her mind and refocused on the event at Twilight Teahouse rather than her marriage. God, it was like having to continuously re-latch a shudder that kept blowing open in a storm. She really wanted to keep thinking about her husband rather than the duties she needed to perform for their place of business right now.
Ugh.
A quick press of the intercom button on her phone was followed by a quick, “Dani, I’m getting dressed for Hinamatsuri now. I don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thanks.”
Out of her chair, she kicked off her high heels and headed toward the gorgeous outfit hanging on the back of the closed door. The morning fog was finally beginning to burn off and the muted glow was giving way to a bright sparkle of sunlight off the Sound. That same natural light streamed in through the large windows and brought out the true colors of the kimono she would wear today.
Removing the protective plastic, Madison ran her hands over a purple and pink silk kimono that was a gorgeous exercise in Japanese couture so beautiful, a sigh of appreciation left her lips.
With the push of a button, all of the blinds closed, leaving her office in shadow. When she’d gotten in it had been pitch black outside. Even now it was still quite early but even with the blinds closed, there was still a pleasant glow off the glass and steel building so her office was pleasantly dim rather than midnight dark.
With a tired sigh that had more to do with where her mind was rather than any kind of physical issue, Madison yanked her royal blue shift over her head and off.
Then she just…stood there.
Eyes closed, the image of her husband, who was out taking care of her to-do list, filled her head. In nothing but her bra and panties, she stood in the middle of that floor, stocking-clad toes wriggling in the plush carpet, and thought on the man who’d caused hope to spring up in her chest. Hope that he was truly serious about being here, being with her.
She plopped down in her leather executive office chair, still warm from her body heat, and let her mind go where it willed.
Kinson. Kinson Lee. Yogi extraordinaire…who had taken a red-eye home, rented a car and drove straight here from the airport, sent her breakfast, and canceled his upcoming yoga retreats where he’d been scheduled to teach.
Totally capable of running her life and her business on her own, it didn’t change the fact that she needed him in her life as her partner, not just in her bed…though the bed would be nice. God, when was the last time she’d truly enjoyed a raunchy, messy, all-over-the-house romping good time with her man?
And he was so drool-worthy when he’d stuck his head into her office just a little while ago. Even with the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion rolling off of his body, he was still the epitome of delicious.
But there was more to Kinson than looks. The man was steadfast and capable. When he was paying a-fucking-tention, he was as giving a lover as she could have ever asked for. And he could handle her bullheaded tendencies with a loving stubbornness of his own. In fact, he was probably the only person she knew that could successfully get her to rest.
“Madison, sit your butt down somewhere before I turn it another color. Work will be there tomorrow. It’s not going anywhere.”
How many times had he told her that over the years? Well, not lately, but still. Her skin heated at the thought of his wonderfully-delivered spankings—just enough sting on this side of pleasure that she couldn’t really call it a punishment. As tension coiled between her shoulder blades, Madison lifted her hips and eased her underwear down and off. A chuckle escaped when she caught them on the tip of her shoe and kicked them across the room.
Her hand eased beneath the cup of her lacy demi-bra to palm a full breast. Madison moaned at the contact, even as her head filled with images of her husband, naked, ready and willing.
When his hands were on her skin, it felt nothing like when she touched herself. His touch was electric. Alive. Made her blood flash beneath the skin.
She twisted and rolled a nipple until it was a ripe berry between the fingertips. The other hand dipped low and teased the plump lips of her sex until the flesh tingled, eager for more.
Kinson’s name escaped her lips as her spine began a slow undulation that soon became an eager grind of her hips as her fingers pressed into the honey that began to gather at her entrance.
Her legs were spread wide now, one over each chair arm. God, she wished she had a battery operated boyfriend right now. Obviously she was coiled up tight and needed the release.
The soft click of the door closing followed by the deep rumble of male appreciation had her jumping out of her skin.
“Damn, that’s a sexy sight.”
“Kinson! I told Dani I was not to be disturbed.”
“And I see why.”
~
Mr. April
Stalking Nayla by Yvette Hines
Nayla is being hunted. Shimar has to keep her safe, but convincing her she’s his mate is the real challenge.
Hurrying, she was at almost a run. The revving engine let her know that her pursuers had picked up speed too. Coming to the end of the deck, she saw an alleyway between the deck and the store. She considered ducking into it, but thought against it.
That’s how women get caught in movies.
“Bitch, stop!”
Pressing her hand to her chest to make sure the thin wallet stashed at the side of one of her breasts didn’t pop out, she began to run. Her low heels tapped fiercely on the concrete.
“Ah!” She screamed and struggled as someone grabbed her arm and yanked.
Dragged into the dark alleyway and pressed against the cool cement of the store, she fought against her captor blindly.
“Let me go, asshole!” She swung her fist and bucked her body as the grip tightened on one wrist and the weight of someone angled into her.
“Calm down—”
“You’ve messed with the wrong woman!” She bucked. Her language ghetto and menacing, evidence of her true roots. “Bastard, get off—”
His strength overpowered her, as he kept a hand over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Mister Amber Eyes was staring down at her. He had six inches or so over her five ten height. She wasn’t sure where he’d come from, but a part of her mind was glad he was there.
She preferred this stranger to the group in the car, evidenced by her body’s response to him. Yes, her heart was racing, and it would be easy to see it as a fact of her running for her life. However, that didn’t explain her taut nipples, the instant ache in her body or the throbbing of her clit.
The raw scent of cinnamon and sage drew her to him, made her crave his naked skin sliding along her own.
What in the hell? This was no time for her to become aroused. There were men out to get her.
His own gaze was intense as he stared at her, hard. His muscles were tense, not just from holding her, but bunching and flexing as if he fought within himself. There was a deep V over the bridge of his nose as if he were perplexed about something. She even became aware of a slight tremor that shook his form.
With his hand still over her mouth, she couldn’t question him.
There was a wide arc of light coming from the street as the vehicle came to the alley.
“She went down there.” Someone shouted.
The alley was wide enough for a garbage truck to pass through, allowing the car plenty of space to pass.
She wiggled, trying to indicate to her stranger that they needed to go. Soon, the headlights would spotlight them and they’d be caught.
“Be still.” His voice was strong, sure, husky. “Trust me?”
Unsure why he questioned her on that since they hadn’t even really met, or why she was nodding her answer that she did. But, at the center of her core, her very being, she trusted them man.
The car barreled toward them, the beam illuminating the walls and trash littering the alleyway as it drew closer. Any moment the two of them would be spotted.
He leaned in closer and laid his mouth against her ear. “Forgive me,” he whispered, his warm breath captivating her, seducing her senses.
Forgive hi—
Like a strike of lightning, his hand was under her dress and between her thighs. He circumvented the edge her thong and was inside of her.
Two thick fingers were thrust all the way in her sex.
Shocked didn’t begin to explain how she felt. She squeaked and pressed her fists into his chest trying to move him.
“Keep still,” he growled the order.
She froze, as the headlights landed on them.
“Where the fuck is she?”
The harsh rays kept her from seeing who was speaking as the car stopped.
I’m right here. Why can’t they see us standing right here?
Three car doors slammed.
Shivers raced through her. We’re caught.
~
Mr. May
Prescription for Love by Seressia Glass
She’s just what the doctor ordered in Prescription for Love
Prescription for Love by Seressia Glass
His quiet assurances had more of an impact on her than flirting, driving a need to deflect the curious squishiness in her chest. “You’re just saying that because you want to get in my pants.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
She placed the last of the food in the fridge. “So you don’t want to get in my pants?”
“Of course I want to get in your pants—I’m not dead. Or stupid. Because I’m neither dead or stupid, I know just telling you how hot and beautiful you are isn’t going to work.”
“What do you think will work?”
“Being real. Being honest.” Dark eyes swept over her as he stepped closer, his nearness heating her skin. “I’m attracted to you, you know that. It started with you smiling at me while you sang along to Beyoncé. It continued with the verbal karate match we had at your sister’s place. By the time you started flirting with me, I was already hooked.”
“Wait. I flirted with you? Are you sure that wasn’t the other way around?”
“I was in the kitchen minding my own business when you glided in like a goddess about to bless me.” He grinned, and her stomach clenched. “Which you did.”
“Alex...”
He cupped her cheeks. “I want you, Jasmine. I’ve made no secret of that. I want to taste you, touch you, take my time exploring you. I want to discover what makes you sigh, what makes you moan, and what makes you scream. I want you even more now that I’ve finally had a chance to kiss you.”
Goodness. That...that wasn’t flirting. That was a bold-faced declaration of intent.
Desire pinched his features tight as he stared down at her. “Am I alone in this? Am I alone in wanting to know how good we’ll be together?”
“No.” The intensity of his gaze and the electricity of his touch combined to steal all thought except one. “Need to kiss you.”
“Yes. Hell, yes.”
~
Mr. June
Solomon’s Quest by Serenity King
He’s determined to protect her, but the secrets she keeps may destroy her.
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
~
Mr. July
One Hot Dare by Michelle Monkou
When to serve and protect escalates into a sexy dangerous game.
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
~
Mr. August
All The Small Things by Stephanie Burke
The more unbearable the pain, the richer the rewards
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
~
Mr. September
Inferno by Aliyah Burke
Sometimes the flames aren’t meant to be put out.
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
~
Mr. October
Wicked Games by Maureen Smith
Some games are too dangerous to play.
~
~
Mr. November
The Ultimate Goal by Di Topaz
Will Justice and Angelique put their difference aside and go for the Ultimate Goal?
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
~
Mr. December
Seeking Santa by Latrivia S. Nelson
Alone during the Christmas holidays in a new city, Jade sets out on a mission to find happiness.
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