Decadent Divas

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I don't know about you, but when the weather starts to turn chilly and darkness descends upon us at 4:30, all I want to do is change into comfy PJs, curl up in bed, and read a steaming hot romance. For me, books are an escape from the real world for a short time. I love the feeling as I go about my business during the day of knowing I have a great novel waiting for me when everything is said and done. The diva curls up next to me, and sometimes the cat, too, right smack on one side of my pillow,  I inform the boy of my standard rule, "I don't do kids after 10pm. Nighty night," and I, deep breath, read. 

I leave you with an excerpt from my latest erotic romance, The Submissive Muse, a tale of second chance at love between two damaged people.

Enjoy!

She turned her back to him and began soaping up one of the wine glasses. He reached around and grabbed it from her hands, then threw it against the wall. It shattered into pieces.

She turned off the running water and faced him. "I'm going to start billing you for broken wine glasses. You broke another one the other night."

It was true, he had. After she pulled away from their kiss, he had smashed his glass against the wall. He had also overturned John's "sacred, off-limits" armchair in anger.

"Everything you do is my business. That was the deal." He stood a hair's length away, so close her perfume tickled his nose.

"We have no deal. What are you talking about?"

Shut up, Devan.

He blew out a long, slow breath in an attempt to calm himself.

"Because you take care of my horses, you think you also have a responsibility to take care of me?" Her voice quivered with emotion.

Yes, he did, but he couldn't tell her why.
"I can tell you when you're making a fool of yourself with a kid almost half your age."

"Screw you." She made a motion to leave, but he trapped her there with both his arms at her sides. "Let me go, Devan."

He wanted her so bad he could no longer fight it. If she didn't want him, he'd have to leave here for good, because the torture of denial was making him lose his mind.

"Tell me you want the college boy and I'll let you go."


She turned her face away from him. "No."


Devan grabbed ahold of her chin and twisted it around to face him. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want him, and not me."
Her eyes flashed with frustration while she stubbornly pressed her lips together. She attempted to flee again, but he held her by the shoulders. Her angry breaths flooded his face as she squirmed to get away. "Why are you fighting it? Isn't it obvious you want me as much as I want you?"

Tiffany N. York lives in SoCal with her spirited son, diva Chihuahua, an ever-changing number of cats, one screeching parakeet, and now the latest addition, a bunny who chews everything in sight. Visit her website at www.tiffanynyorkauthor.com