Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Marking Her (#1 Marked Series) First Chapter Up On My Blog!

Have you met the yumminess that is Talan Cox from the Marked Series, yet? If not, here's the first chapter of this book to entice your curiosity.

Marking Her (Book #1)

($0.99)Amazon US:


Talan Cox wants to mark Maya—with more than his ink. The owner of a prominent tattoo shop, he’s used to being hit on by easy women. Though “easy” is not a word associated with Maya when she comes in to support her friend. Flirtation ensues, but what will it take to break the painted man?


I was tired.
My neck and back cracked when I stood up to lean over my client’s tatt and wipe it down. The girl in my chair, an obnoxious little blonde, hissed as the cloth swiped across her sensitive skin. My mark—my ink marred her flesh with a permanent stamp of my creation.
“All done.”
“It looks amazing, Talan.” She hopped out of the chair and stood before me. Her eyes ate up the tattoos over my arms, drinking in the sight of my art.
Or body.
This little girl didn’t give a shit about the cherry blossom tree she had me place over her ribs and down her hip. She was there to land, and then go brag about, the bad boy artist who she wished would mark more than her flesh.
“Glad you like.” I turned back to my gun and began to clean up the mess, not even looking at her. My dismissal didn’t make her happy and she pouted. “Now let’s go over the aftercare and you can be on your way.” It wasn’t that she was unattractive, quite the opposite. She had a tiny waist and ample chest, but it wasn’t enough to make me want her.
The looks she was giving me came off as desperate, and I wasn’t into easy pussy. Easy usually meant used and abused. Not my kind of deal.
“How about,” her finger ran down the length of my arm, following the Polynesian pattern that adorned my shoulder, “I buy you a drink, and you can take care of it for me in the morning?”
“How about,” I pulled her hand off my skin and walked over to my station where I picked up her aftercare guide, “you take care of this yourself.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to sneak out for a little while?” She batted her obviously fake lashes at me.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I’m booked solid tonight and can’t get out of here.” My too charismatic personality couldn’t help but add, “Maybe some other time?” Bullshit—I had no intention of ever seeing her outside my chair.
“I can make it worth your while.”
Thank God someone knocked on my door. “Come in,” I yelled just as Simon, one of my artists, walked in.
Simon Palmer had come to work for me a year ago, after finishing his apprenticeship with a buddy of mine up in New York. The kid was young, but he was a natural. At only twenty-years-old, his portfolio could give some of the business veterans a run for their money.
He was an asset to the team, and right at that moment, my favorite person in the world.
“Yo, I’m heading out to pick up Lance; his bike broke down and he needs a lift from the mechanics shop.”
“What about his appointment at two?”  I snapped my gloves off and huffed.
“Sorry, bro, but can you cover?” I barely stopped myself from shaking my head. Did I have a choice? Simon continued, oblivious to my growing annoyance at the idea of covering for Lance. “When we tried to re-schedule, she asked for you.” 
“Fuck . . . okay. Who is it?”
Simon shrugged. “Don’t know, just some girl he had down for a dream catcher. The design’s already finalized and ready for transfer paper,” he explained. “So, can you, or do I call and tell her you aren’t available?”
“Actually,” my client interrupted our discussion, “we were just leaving—”
“Yeah, I’ll do it.” I sighed and turned toward my client, all while doing the touchdown shuffle on the inside. “Sorry, but duty calls.”
To say she was pissed would be an understatement, if the evil glare in her eyes was anything to go by. She snatched the papers out of my hand and marched out of my room without a backward glance.
“Did I ruin—”
“No, you just saved my ass.” I clapped his shoulder and smiled before pushing him toward the door.  “Get going and pick that lazy fucker up. I’m sure he’s pissed over missing this tatt.”
“Actually . . .”
“What?” I huffed.
“He likes the chick, so he’s fuming.” Simon chuckled.
“No shit?” My eyes widened at the news.
“Yes shit,” he answered and left me laughing my ass off while he went to get Lance, my abstract artist.                                                               
 “When’s my next appointment?” I asked my receptionist Janice while making my way around the front counter. I’d just walked out Lance’s crush and wanted the day to be over.
“You have one more, Talan. Esther is due in twenty.”
“Fuck, I forgot about her.” My body slumped against the counter. The boys and I were hoping for the evening to be slow, allowing us an early night.
“That’s why I’m here, handsome. To serve you in any way you need,” Janice purred, and I sighed as I flipped open my laptop and logged in. I’d made the mistake of wetting my dick in her a few months back when she first came through my door. Afterward, she became jealous and clingy, wanting more than I was willing to give.
The only reason she was still there was because she had bigger balls than the other two fuckers that worked there. Janice could handle the leers, gestures, and jokes like a pro, but fuck with her inventory or dirty my shop, and she will rip you a new one.
“Janice, cut that shit out,” I demanded before storming off toward the back and into my sanctuary. The guys all laughed when I walked by. I flipped them the bird and continued on into my room.
An hour had passed since I’d asked Janice if I was clear and there was still no sign of Esther. It was the usual for her. The woman would be late to her own funeral, but this was a new one for her.
She was never this late.
I was becoming agitated by the lack of common sense people had to pick up a goddamn phone. How hard could it be to let me know if you’re coming or not? There was just something about a person’s lack of punctuality that pissed me off. Not caring if I had shit to do or places to be was plain rude.
I was worked up to the point of walking out the damn door.
“Janice,” I called out into the now empty shop. She’d insisted – once the boy’s left – in staying behind to help me set up, not listening to my refusal. “Call Esther and reschedule. I’m beat and—”
“I’m here,” Esther yelled, rushing through the door. “Traffic was a bitch and I—”
“Save it and get in my chair before I kick you out,” I grumbled and rubbed my throbbing temples.
“But, I brought—”
“Is he always this rude?” a soft, feminine voice I didn’t recognize asked.
I looked up, and was startled by the sexy little thing that stood before me. She was young. Much younger than what I was normally attracted to; at the most this little nymph was twenty.
The beauty had black hair; wavy and tousled locks that swept down to the middle of her back, with side-swept bangs across her forehead. Her face was sweet, innocent, while her gray eyes spoke of mischief, and in my case, trouble. Lips, those fucking cherry-red lips, were plump and inviting—the perfect Cupid’s bow that begged to be nibbled.
I let my eyes traverse her short frame and my mouth watered. She truly was an itty-bitty thing. With my six-foot-four frame, I towered over her, dwarfing her delicate one.
My feet carried me closer to where she stood, next to Esther in the receptionist area. I wanted her laid on that black marble top so I could feast on her. The drought I’d been on as of late might have been making me desperate...then again, looking at her was making something within me want to just take, consequences be damned.
We watched each other; she followed my every move and I, her every breath.
My eyes dropped from her perfect face to hungrily devour her chest and a shiver ran down my spine.  The two pert, no bigger than a handful breasts, sat high on her chest. She wore a simple camisole that did little to hide her obvious happiness to meet me.
My cock twitched as her nips puckered.
I continued my assessment and found my hands clenching the second her narrow waist and flared hips came into view. My nails dug grooves into the palms of my hands, the slight pinch keeping me in check. The desire to pull her closer, grab onto her flesh, and leave my prints behind was almost unbearable.
She was a slim petite thing, with the sexiest pair of legs my eyes had ever seen; they were bare for my enjoyment. A tiny pair of denim shorts barely covered her lower region, marking every groove and molding onto her sinful flesh as if they were a part of her.
I was hard.
“Wow,” a voice coughed to my right, pulling my eyes away from Bitty.
“You can say ‘thank you’ for my gift now and eye fuck her later.” Esther laughed while Bitty turned red around the cheeks.
This cute little thing blushes?
“Talan, it’s getting late,” Janice interrupted suddenly, “and we have plans.” 
“I’m sorry,” Bitty spoke up, turning to Esther, “maybe we should come ba—”
“No.” The word popped out before I could think to stop them.
“Yes.” My glare cut off Janice before she could continue, eliciting a chastised look from her. Who the hell did she think she was to be so rude and hostile toward my client and someone who, I hoped, would soon be my friend?
“Enough, Janice.” I let the words come out encased in a low, warning growl before turning toward the two women with raised brows. “You two head on back.” Bitty went to protest at my command, but instead bit her lip, causing me to groan. Fuck, I need to get this situation under control. “Esther, you know the drill; lose the shirt and get comfy. Bitty, I want—”
Bitty crossed her arms, scowling adorably. “Who you calling ‘Bitty’?”
“You, sweet thing, now quit interrupting me.”
Bitty huffed, but I saw no real annoyance in her expression. 
“Talan, can we have a word please?” Janice butt-in, again. If this chick didn’t leave soon she was going to find herself without a job.
“No, and for fuck’s sake—go home.”
“But,” she whined and gave me a ridiculous pout. The two other girls in the room laughed. Janice didn’t appreciate this and turned her icy glare on them.
“Come on, Es, seems the big, bad, tatt boy has his hands full,” Bitty cooed with a sexy giggle and pulled a nosy Esther behind her. The two walked off, down toward the room with my name on the door. They walked in, and while Esther went to strip, Bitty closed the door.
Her eyes—those damn cat-like grey eyes—set on mine, blazing with amusement while she winked then pushed the door closed.
“What the fuck was that?” Janice hissed once they were both out of earshot. “You should have a little more—”
“Get out,” I said through gritted teeth.
Janice’s jaw jutted forward in defiance. “Are you into that little girl?” 
I pointed toward the door. “Out and quit pushing . . . you’re walking a fine line.”
Hurt flickered in her eyes. “Talan, I—”
 “Go home, Janice. Go home before I fucking lose the last bit of patience I have today and kick you out permanently.”

Marking Him (Book #2)
($2.99)Amazon US:

SCARS (Book #2.5)
($1.99) Amazon US:

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