Blakemore Fans Rejoice!
Yunior Delgado has been inadvertently taken by a group of human traffickers who don’t know who they have. One phone call to Saxton Blakemore and the wheels are placed in motion for the daring rescue.
In the wee hours of the morning, four technicians load up to collect the heir apparent, with telling results. The fixer, the tracker, and the retrieval agent are joined by a blast from both the past of Saxton and Mr. Yield.
The story deepens as Yunior begins to understand the man he is supposed to be, versus the man he believes walks in his shoes. At the end of the day, surrounded by Killers, his role as the impending Czar of the Americas unfolds incrementally as he tries on the loafers which are a perfect fit.
****Contains adult situations and violence.****
This is not a romance novel.
This is not a Blakemore File but a Delgado File
Happy reading. – Olivia
Yunior is on the loose!
Sometimes, when I am sitting alone in my writing lab, playing with my unicorn Sparkles, things seem funny to me. I write the funny scenario into a scene and crack up laughing. It is uncertain if at times it is actually amusing, or my visualization of the even makes it even more comical to me.
I saw an image of a spirit beneath a well on someone’s Facebook post, and I toyed with idea, what if someone was actually able to catch that spirit. If you catch the spirit, then the entity will grant your heart’s desire. However, what if what you want, isn’t actually what your heart is craving. What if you make the wish and get it all wrong?
I wrote Beneath the Well of Dawn and played with that idea. What if you wished for a really good looking guy, but he was dumb as a box of crayons or if you wished for someone who was a good conversationalist, but was too unattractive to look at?
In Beneath the Well of Dawn, Faynell encounters many bad choices, but one is sitting at her table, who meets the next door neighbor, Zeke, who is more than just a pest in the main character’s eyes.
The interaction, makes me laugh, because I think it is funny.
She began to hum a tune as she cracked eggs and set the bacon to sizzling. Mike had a wonderful tenor voice that he used to join in with her on the song. He filled the coffee carafe with water as he made the coffee, found the plates to set the table, and even laid out the silver ware. He grabbed small glasses from the cupboard and poured them both some orange juice. When everything was done, he took her hand into his, and blessed the food. She liked this Mike. Well, at least she did until she saw him eat.
The slack in his lip created an issue with holding the food in his mouth and each time his teeth came together to masticate the food, some would slide out the hanging lip. Several times he slurped, drawing the eggs back into his face. It sounded even worse than it looked. In a last ditch effort not to lose her own breakfast, she dropped her head as she ate so she would not have to look at him.
Just her luck, after breakfast Zeke decided to stop in and check on her. The backdoor was open and he knocked on the screen door yelling, “Coming in, Faye!” and stepped inside.
He took one look at Mike and did an about-face while saying, “And heading back out!”
It took everything in her not to laugh at him, but it was difficult as Zeke also pulled up the back door, going over to the window and peering through the curtains, his brown eyes darting back and forth like he had seen a ghost. He pointed at Mike with his mouth moving, “What the f….”
“Good morning, Zeke, is there something you need?”
“Me! Shit, is it something you need?” He was still pointing at Mike through the curtain, his head bobbing left and right behind the billowing window covering while he kept blinking trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Faye, come outside for minute, let me holla at you.”
She waved Zeke away, but when she returned to the kitchen, she could still see his darting eyes over the rim of the windowsill peering into the house. Faynell was outdone with her neighbor as she jerked open the back door heading outside. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Zeke Bennett, Ms. Annie did not raise you to act this way.”
Zeke didn’t hear a word she said, he was peeking over her shoulder trying to see into the window. Faynell pinched him. “Get a grip on yourself before you hurt his feelings.”
“You ought to be more concerned with who hurt his face!”
Faynell pinched him again. “I don’t care how many times you pinch me, Faynell. Mr. The Hills Got Eyes is still inside your house. Is he staying the night?”
“That is none of your business, Zeke,” she told him as she pushed him towards his own house.
“It is my business if you come up missing! Hey, Faye, see if you can make a copy of his driver’s license and put it on the back porch. You know, in case you come up missing. Ain’t no way in hell my description to the police won’t get me locked away in the looney bin, trying to describe that ugly son of a bi….”
“Go home, Zeke!”
He had bent over in the yard, his hands on his knees laughing. “Hey, Girl, you know that scene in your favorite movie when Shug meets Miss Celie for the first time?”
“GO HOME, ZEKE!”
She left him in the back yard, his laughter echoing in her ears.
Mike came back into the kitchen. “Is he an ex or something?”
“No, Mike, he is just the asshole that lives next door. More coffee?”
And with that, they sat down to work.
Read the whole story on Kindle, on Amazon. Evidently, these people found it funny as well.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
I was on Twitter, pleased with myself, and tooting my own horn. I felt I deserved it and I was not being a braggart; it was a minute of regaling in my accomplishment. I felt so good about myself, that I sent a Tweet to several book publishers to say, look at me. In all honesty, I was hoping that someone would see my anthill as ask if I wanted to join their colony. I received a reply from Harlequin who suggested I see their guidelines for submission and submit.
I followed the link.
I see this.
I KNOW RIGHT? I turned into Sweet Brown, “ain’t nobody got time for that!”
It would take me the better part of the day just to read through the categories I THINK I might fit into. I know feel like the court jester.
I had no idea that there were this many categories of romance. I knew sweetheart, erotica and romantic suspense.
In the meantime, I am having fun, as is evident with Being Mrs. Blakemore. I had fun this one as well as my readers. If you have not had a chance to check out my number one best-selling short story, then please by all means, take a read. (At this posting, it was #1 on Amazon).
- Celebrate Monsoon with Harlequin romance (hqnindia.wordpress.com)
- Harlequin Announces New Digital First eBooks (goodereader.com)
- Contest and Visit with Contemporary Romance Author Barbara Wallace (nightsofpassion.wordpress.com)
- What ever happened to the morning-after pill? (rachelakai.wordpress.com)
- A Sneak Preview of My Next Harlequin Kiss (josswoodbooks.wordpress.com)
- Downloads Spring Proposal in Swallowbrook (Mills & Boon Medical) e-book (azqonop.wordpress.com)
- Pulp fiction, pop lit? (rappler.com)
- Downloads One of a Kind Dad (Harlequin American Romance) book (ewbugano.wordpress.com)
I am a wordsmith. I like to write. I like a gathering of words. When you are putting words together; you can tell a story. You can evoke a feeling. You can relay an emotion. The reader becomes a part of the plan to excite the mind.
The day seemed far longer than her patience with men. Time had been a cruel friend often forcing her to believe in the impossible when she should have been courting a relational reality with the improbable.
Okay, I am having a pretty great start here. I want to read more and I am the one writing it, but I was playing with my words. I am convinced that the short story is going to make a comeback and people with Nooks & Kindles are going to enjoy the pleasure of reading something quickly.
Sweating bullets took on a new meaning as she searched for the perfect spot to wait, sulk, and mull trajectory angles all the while waiting to eventually take his life. As far as she was concerned, he had not put it to good use and therefore it became her responsibility to end his wastefulness. Say goodnight Dick.
I am enjoying using my words to express Lizzie’s feelings. She is mean, evil and full of anger. It is fun to use my words to create Lizzie’s world. If you are unfamiliar with Lizzie and why she is being hunted, read more about her in The Bounty. You will be able to follow the journey in The Bounty Hunter this summer.
- Expressive words? (ask.metafilter.com)
- Speechless (livin4twink.com)
- Short Story Competition…. Tell us a tale (armidabooks.wordpress.com)
- Exercise on Perception. (magicalportal.wordpress.com)
- The Word Factory… (myownprivateuniverse.wordpress.com)