#TeaserTuesday #? – Dogs of Dawn Series

Book 1 – Military Measures
Coming 2016
By Abbye Kovacevic

                It seemed like forever while I stood with my hands just resting on his body. I heard a car zoom down the street and screech to a stop, likely forgetting the stop sign that was newly placed there. I watched how the moon had caught one of the windows and the reflection of us it made on an opposite wall. I watched and heard everything around me while trying to block out Neil.
                Neil placed a finger under my chin and guided my face up so that my eyes could meet with his.
                “Sadie,” his voice was calm as he ran my hand the rest of the way down his chest, across solid and defined abs, and down to the top of his jeans. “Undo them.”
                It was a command, not a request. The question was, would I answer the call or run? If I ran, I’d likely have to write Neil out of my life for good. I couldn’t blame him if he didn’t understand.

                Taking a deep breath, it was time to suck it up and forget high school Matt. My life was starting over finally. And it was starting right now, right here with Neil.

#TeaserTuesday #? – Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences

Well, I have finally finished my new book and it will be released by the end of May by Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing. Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences Is the story about a young woman who meets a young, black opera star post-symphony at an elegant reception held in one of the symphony benefactors mansions in San Francisco.

A greeting, a touch, a shared breath. Their worlds collide and ignite in an erotic explosion of volcanic proportions that neither could resist. How about a bit of a blurb and a tasty teaser? 

Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜”*°

Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
Muffy Wilson
Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Buy Link 


THAT night…
SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen and revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone…but not for long.
Would she regret her indulgence?
HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, chest broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His intense black eyes locked irresistibly onto her and declared his hunger. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began, and his hypnotic gaze was met by her eager response as she answered his desire with a blush.
But, was his desire enough?
THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace riding moonbeams of passion and ribbons of desire that wove them irretrievably together in ways that only the future would disclose—a future neither of them ever anticipated. Would the secrets of the past, of that one night, prove too much to bear as the future unfolds the truth and the depths of her desperate need?
Would the life and death struggle she faced overshadow the seeds of love planted a decade earlier?

The orchestra warmed up in a disconnected, faltering collection of notes, strings and horns as the wealthy patrons filed into the theatre and were settled. She wore a flowing yet form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown with a backline to the small of her back above the well-rounded cheeks of her ass. The cascading neckline tumbled in silken folds to her abdomen which revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts.
She was of medium height with an envious rubenesque shape most men admired: long, shapely legs nipped tightly at the ankle tapering to narrow, small demi-feet elegantly adorned in satin heeled slippers with scarlet, well-pedicured peek-a-boo toes, full breasted bosom with pert erect nipples stretched against the fabric of her gown, round hips that accentuated a narrow waist and a lovely pleasing back that joined all her sumptuous qualities. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her rounded cheekbones accentuated the graceful curve of her jaw line as it narrowed to a slightly dimpled chin below heart-shaped ruby lips. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn curls that caressed the pale white opaque flesh of her face. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival. She glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone.
The house lights dimmed yet she glowed, demurely, in the white gown as if she were unmistakably the main attraction.
She stared as he walked onstage: a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, arms outstretched in black opulent leather to embrace the audience, she felt to embrace her. His piercing gaze locked irresistibly onto her, in all her radiant purity. His intense black eyes seemed to declare his hunger.
The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. He sang, it seemed to Jordan, to no one but her as she smiled quite involuntarily. Each throaty, reverberating note he released strummed every nerve to her very foundation.  His musical seduction began, and would surely end she thought, with her in his outstretched arms. 
Her petulant feminine petals nestled in the protective mound where her thighs joined. They slowly filled with her eager response and unfolded the protection of the essential pearl of her existence as she answered his desire with a blush.
She sat through the entire performance tethered to his gaze. The magnetism she could not resist overtook her fully and her responses were involuntary yet welcome. She felt his gaze through her gown caress her, push her, tease her and excite her with every deep vibrato he released into the hall.
She was, therefore, completely surprised when the lights raised and the fluid embrace of his voice was gradually replaced by the swelling bustle of movement from the exiting audience. She looked to her left and right, then up to the stage beautifully shrouded by long red opulent velvet curtains separating her from the object of the gathered passion in her belly.
Her reverie broken, she returned to the moment at hand. As she rose, the romantic trance invoked by his voice broke, the hold eased, and dropped shard by shard from her body so that she could move. She gathered her wits, shook off the spell and seemed to float in the afterglow with the others to the atrium. She exited the main entrance to the broad threshold above the street below.
She took a few steps outside and shocked by the damp San Francisco night, drew her wrap ever tighter to her heaving breast, her nipples still erect from the seduction of the opera star. She paused a moment, enjoyed the remains of her trance, and proceeded down the steps to hail a cab.
The after symphony reception was held at the home of one of San Francisco’s most prominent elite, a huge supporter and member of the Symphony Board of Directors, Drake Morrison. Drake and his wife Amelia were friends of Jordan’s parents who were absent because of a holiday in the Orient. Jordan’s parents were regular supporters of the Symphony and met the Morrisons frequently during intermission on most opening nights for a glass of champagne. She had been invited as a distraction from her solitude to join them on opening night at the reception in their home. She agreed to attend eagerly as she often attended the symphony with her Mother when her Father was unable.
She felt her low-belly tighten; her heart pounded and her palms tingled with perspiration in anticipation. The main opera lead and cast always came to the receptions. The non-profit organization relied upon their attendance to boost donations so she knew she would see him here and she wondered if he would even recognize her or if the reverie of connection had been hers alone.
When he entered with his entourage, he towered over everyone with his black elegance. He was beautiful, a stunning black onyx statue carved to magnificent perfection. When she saw him, only feet away, she staggered slightly as he turned to her with an outstretched hand in greeting, eyes locked in a magnetic embrace. She lost her breath and her heart in one moment as she touched his fingertips with hers.
He clasped her hand with the both of his and pulled her close to his body with a knowing smile curled on the curve of his chiseled jaw line. She felt his heat, was hypnotized by his aroma. She knew then that he remembered her in the audience; he had sung to her, he had sent his words in musical notes on foils to surround her, lift and seduce her.
The moment was suspended when he was directed to further introductions. He bowed ever so slightly with his departure and barely whispered, a bientot, mem’selle, his breath searing her neckline. She weakened in his presence and felt ill-balanced on a passionate precipice as he moved away. Their arms outstretched unwilling to be parted, her hand slid from his as their fingertips relinquished an electric hold.
A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said. She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into the crowd of admirers.
She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.
The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his embrace as well as the shawl.
            “My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I presumed too much?” as he pressed himself to her body and the key card into her hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of resistance.

            “I, ah…No, you have not presumed beyond expectation. I ache to feel you inside me, truly, and I thank you for your discretion. The Morrisons are long time friends of my parents who don’t yet consider me a grown woman,” she smiled into his down-turned eyes and smelled his heat.

© Muffy Wilson

Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Author Bio and Links:

Muffy, author of erotic, romantic stories about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in San Antonio, Texas, to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family “princess,” indulged and pampered. She adored her older brothers, following them everywhere and was surrounded by love, stimulation, and pets. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. The family lived in most points between Alaska and France. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and came of age in France.
Returning from France with her family, Muffy finished high school in Northern California and attended the University of California, Davis, and majored inBusiness Management. Muffy entered the work force, independent with a fierce work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West Regional Director in the Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her husband moved to a small Island in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic tavern, restaurant and resort business which they since have sold. They now live a charmed life by the water in SW Florida. Muffy pretends to be a serious real estate business person but, in real life, indulges her private interest in writing sexy short stories and sensual literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion.

Previously Published:
Secret Cravings Publishing, Oysters & Chocolate, Decadent Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Coming Soon:
Cheerleaders in Heat ~ TBA Summer 2015

Other Novels and Contributions:

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Live ~ Laugh ~ Love
with Passion

#TeaserTuesday #14 – Revival

Title: REVIVAL, Book One of the Return to Us Trilogy
Author: M.K. Gilher
Published: Second edition January 15, 2015 by Angel Press
Genre: Contemporary, suspense, erotic romance
Pages: 236

He’s a surgeon, he’s a cage fighter, he’s not a good boy. I feel as if I know him, yet I’m sure I don’t. Dr. Jacade J. Jordan, my enigmatic sex god on a stick.

Damn, she’s delectable. My sweet Ivy. I want to eat her alive. But how can I possess her when she doesn’t even know me? When the deception runs too deep? When I’ve killed for her and would do it again in a heartbeat? How can I watch her submit so perfectly when I am the one at her feet?

Enjoy the ride in the Windy City as Ivy and Jacade’s timeless love story unfolds in the Return To Us Trilogy by M.K. Gilher.

“Ivy, you and I are going to play a little game.” His voice strips me down until I feel naked. I’ll play any fucking game you want me to, just as long as you’re playing with me.

Without thinking I blurt out, “What kind of game?” Once the words leave my mouth, I wish I could rewind to about five seconds earlier. The way he’s standing and speaking to me, I know this is no time for questions. He’s going to blast through all the barriers and forts I’ve erected to keep men like him out. This is a game I’m going to play because he’s already decided it for me.

He chuckles, and for a moment, I see a playful boy peeking through. But he swiftly recovers and locks his stoic mask back into place.

His stern voice answers my blurted question. “A game in which you don’t speak unless you’re instructed to do so.” He raises his eyebrows and wrinkles appear on his forehead.

Well, that shut me up. Read more

Amazon / Goodreads/ Nook / Smashwords/ iTunes / Google Books / ARe/ Pinterest/ Spotify

 LOVE this book, February 27, 2015 By  T London “Tbird”
The writing style is smooth and descriptive, with great character development, making the reader feel they are right there in the story experiencing every emotion that flows throughout the book.
Dr. Jacade Jordan is one of the sexiest alpha men I have read about in a long while.
One thing for you can count on is he is a walking, talking sex God who is protective of those he loves and goes after whatever he wants.
It is an edge of the seat, change the panties often kind of story with two characters you can’t help but fall in love with.

Five Stars, February 18, 2015  By dawn 
Love love loved this book. I can’t wait for book 2.

Five Stars, February 8, 2015 By Sandy Coan
 Very well written! I will be recommending this book to all of my friends! 
Oh Doctor… tourniquets have a new meaning…, February 8, 2015 by Porchia Gilbreath
I loved this book. Did not want to put it down. Ivy has had a hard life and it just keeps getting harder, Jacade is a plastic surgeon who has secrets he does not want Ivy to know. I got so lost in the story that when I got to the end I just sat there…. Like a really good movie you don’t to get up yet. I recommend this story to all readers who love an edgy story with real feelings, oh and HOT sex. 🙂 

Dr. Jacade Jordan: The steamy bad boy plastic surgeon., February 2, 2015 By Lindsey Norwood 
You will fall in love with Dr. Jordan and his smooth ways. And, Ivy will keep you on your toes with her smart mouth. I love that this is a dual POV book. You know what each is thinking, when and all of the things that are going on in their heads. There is a lot of humor in through out the book that will keep you turning the pages. These two have so much chemistry it seems to ooze off the page.

Slut Ivy and Fem Ivy have got Dr. Jordan in the hot seat.
SI= Slut Ivy
FI= Feminist Ivy
J= Jacade
SI= (sauntering up to J at the party) Well hello there…
FI= Oh stop it. (slapping SI in the arm)
J= (chuckling) Hello, ladies. I was wondering when you’d track me down. How are you both this evening?
SI= (racking eyes over J) Much better now.
FI= (glaring at SI then whispering to her) Can you hold it together for this interview or not? We have a job to do.
SI= (whispering back to FI) He can hold me together…
FI= (rolling eyes) Can we ask you a few questions for the fans?
J= (grinning) Of course. Anything for you ladies.
Read more of this interview

I’ve always adored writing and won several poetry contests in high school. I was coasting along in my healthcare career in Chicago, when I had a dream I was resuscitated from near death by a mysterious physician. Jacade’s enigmatic character sprouted from that dream. As I wrote, I made sure Ivy’s character was laced with qualities of the everyday woman; beauty, intelligence, insecurities, and vulnerabilities. I truly hope you relish your time with Dr. Jordan and Ivy in the Return to Us Trilogy. I know I do every time I’m drawn into their lives.

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RECTIFY Book 2 August 3, 2015

REMEDY Book 3 January 2016

#TeaserTuesday #13 – Demolition Mafia

This is part 4 of 4 in the Teaser Tuesday segment featuring my soon to be released (date to be determined but before end of year) controversial book.

As the guards came to get me for the ending of yet another long trial, I knew I didn’t regret one thing. Regardless of today’s verdict, I’d have done it all over again.
            I wasn’t the daughter of a motorcycle club president anymore. I wasn’t the sister of a power hungry motorcycle club president anymore. I wasn’t the first female president of a motorcycle club.

            I am the queen! They’ll be talking about me forever.

#TeaserTuesday #12 – Demolition Mafia

This is part 3 of 4 in the Teaser Tuesday segment featuring my soon to be released (date to be determined but before end of year) controversial book.

“Khayne here. I’m with…”
“I know who you are.” The deep voice on the other end of the phone was as cold as ice. Christian. “What do you want?”
“I was hoping you’d be in need of a permanent home.”
“You know I don’t do permanent.”
“We’re aren’t getting any younger, man. Any chance you could be convinced?”
Christian ignored the question. “You work for Jarvick’s little sister.  A woman.” Christian made the words sound as though they hurt to speak. As though he were being tortured as they came through his lips.
“Why me?”
“You really need to ask? Jarvick is a monster. Gracie needs a bigger one.”
The laugh rom Christian was nothing short of pure evil. He’d worked hard or his reputation and seemed to never regret a moment of it. “Why do you let her run this? Get your sacks back and be men. Take over. Then you won’t need me at all.”
“Gracie is…different. She’s got something.”
“She doesn’t need to hire a monster. She needs to be one. She can’t rely on others to do her dirty work for her. No one likes a boss that won’t get their hands in the mix.” Christian paused. “Can she do that, Khayne? Because if she can’t, we’ll all end up dead.”
“Gracie will either become that monster or she’ll leave for good.”
“Blood on her hands yet?”
“Nothing significant.”
“You guys protect her. Let me guess, someone else makes the tough calls?”
            “Suppose we do.”
            “Jesus Christ. I don’t think I want to be a part of what you’ve gotten yourself into. Personally, I think you should have stayed in with Povlovic. He’s a mean son of a bitch, but he takes the rap for his decisions. And I don’t think that guy was clean at all after he turned thirteen. His old man saw to it that he had a backbone. Still, I am somewhat curious. How much and how long?”
            “What’s your price? Gracie needs a number one. Permanently.”

            “More than one?” Christian’s curiosity peaked, but he knew now was not the time. “Nevermind.” He named a price, a rather high one even for him and they set up their meeting.

#TeaserTuesday #11 – Demolition Mafia

This is part 2 of 4 in the Teaser Tuesday segment featuring my soon to be released (date to be determined but before end of year) controversial book.

“We need someone that can really enforce. My brother is no light weight to go up against.” Gracie paused with a sigh. “As tough as Rex is…well, he just won’t be enough. And if we lose out to Jarvick and lose Rex in the process, my name will become a joke.”
“Do you really want to go against your brother?”
“You’re the one who turned on him to come work for me, Khayne.”
“I did. You were…different.” Khayne paused, choosing his words carefully. “Jarvick has crossed lines – lines his club can never come back from. You aren’t that, Gracie. What we’ve been doing is safer for all of us. There are only a few clubs in Jarvick’s league, mostly because other clubs fear it. And rightly so. It’s like you lose your…” Khayne allowed his sentence to go unfinished and went back to cleaning his gun.
“Khayne, finish your sentence.”
“My humanity was leaving me, Gracie. No one should be asked to do, or even to witness, some of the things that have become normal in Jarvick’s world.”
“You’re saying my brother is a monster?” Gracie raised an eyebrow.
“Now, Gracie.” Khayne knew through it all that Jarvick was still her brother. Blood and hatred ran deep in the Pavlovic family.
“Answer me.”
“God damn, Gracie. I’m sorry, but yes, your brother is a monster. The worst kind. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream up.” Khayne watched as a smile slowly came across Gracie’s face.
“You’ll have to teach me to be an even bigger monster, Khayne.”
“What?” Gracie held his gaze. “I left to not become a monster and now you’re telling me to?”
“You’ve been a family friend for as long as I can remember. So, no. I am not telling you. I’m asking. You’re free to leave the club if you wish.” Gracie paused a moment, wondering about the repercussions of her statement. The guys would have a fit if she just let him walk considering what he knew. “Or, you can stay and create a monster of the both of us.”
Khayne ran his hand through his hair. “You’ll need Christian.” He knew his agreement seemed reluctant and hell, it was. But they’d need help to take on Jarvick.
Gracie looked confused.
“As your top enforcer, I’d hire him. Keep Rex and…” Khayne hesitated. Knowing the weight his next words would place on him. He’d be in too deep to ever be able to look back or claw his way out. “And you’ll need me to enforce as well.”

There. He’d said it. It was done. No way to ever turn back now.

#TeaserTuesday #10 – Demolition Mafia

This is part 1 of 4 in the Teaser Tuesday segment featuring my soon to be released (date to be determined but before end of year) controversial book.

            “Jarvick, are you serious right now?” My arms were crossed over my chest as I paced back and forth in my small law office. It wasn’t huge and the window view sucked. But I was only an intern, so I was grateful to even have one at all. “How does this make me look? How do I explain this? How will I ever be credible as a lawyer?” I was almost screeching by this point and my brother was not enjoying it. I was relived he had remembered to close the door when he came in. “You and Daddy have turned my entire life, my entire education, all my hard work – into a fucking joke.”
My brother remained silent as I bitched and bitched at him. Still, I wanted to punch him right in the jaw. “Do you really have nothing to say? Not even a hey, Gracie, fuck you. It was easy to ruin your life? Well, at least you were right. I see it now. I didn’t know everything you two did. I also completely understand why the two of you forced me into college. But couldn’t someone have convinced me not to pursue law?” I let a horrible sounding laugh escape. It was ironic. “How will I explain to future employers why I have this pricey Harvard degree and don’t – wait – can’t use it?” By this time I was so angry, I kicked the side of my desk.
“Gracie, we didn’t want to tell you. It’s why I told you to go away. To forget this life. To get a better one. To leave us all behind and never look back. I wanted better for you.” Jarvick, for a rare moment, showed a streak of emotion on his face. Sadness? Hurt? “Trying to push you from becoming a lawyer would have taken too much explaining. It would have involved you too far in what we really do. You’d have wanted to know why and only the full truth could have explained it.” He moved over to stand against the window sill with both hands in his pockets as he spoke.
“So this is better?” I was almost screaming. “Am I not involved now? Did you think my being a lawyer would never put me in a position such as this? But now, I still don’t know the full story, and it’s cost me years of my life in education and it’s going to cost me my internship – which I’m almost done with – and my future career.”
“You didn’t know what we were doing. You still don’t. There’s been no full disclosure, Gracie. You should be safe. It’s on us.” Jarvick shook his head. “If you’d have just stayed somewhere else. Why did you have to come home?”
“I missed my family. I wanted Daddy to be proud of me. In any case, no full disclosure likely isn’t going to matter. I can’t prove I don’t know.”
“You haven’t even lived at home in years. You went away to school. Hell, half of the time you didn’t even see a sign your brakes. You didn’t move home until this internship.”
“Jarvick, it won’t matter.” I shrugged and let out a sigh as I planted myself in the desk chair. “They won’t see how I don’t know about it all. I don’t see how I didn’t see it. So, I’d even argue that everyone would think I’d have to know.”
“How could you? We all try to protect you. We’re a simple motorcycle club.”
“I always wondered why you when daddy would come home looking all beat up. Then I’d wonder why you’d come in and ice your hands.” My eyes asked him why. After a long pause, I knew I wasn’t going to get an answer. “Mom never said a word and was always quick to hush me when I try to ask questions. How much did she know?”
“More than she should. Debts that he always told her way more than he should have. He felt it would help her save herself if it ever came down to it. Dad always told her to give him an eye out – to save you and her.” Jarvick’s eyes pleaded for understanding that I couldn’t give him. “We both just wanted to protect you and mom while you both have everything you wanted.”
“Are you really the enforcer my clients accuses you of being? He was fast to give you up.” I needed to know if the beast of a person without a conscience was really my brother. A shiver ran through me as I remembered my client’s words about my own brother.
I watched my brother to sit on the couch on the far side of my many office. There really wasn’t room for it, but I had requested it so I could sleep a few hours during all the research filled days and all-nighters I pulled regularly.
“Come sit with me.” He waited for me to sit and then took my hand in his. “Gracie, your clients probably didn’t lie about me. Actually, he probably underestimated what I’m capable of.”

I couldn’t hide the shock and then fear crossed my face. “Daddy new?”