Thursday, April 30, 2020

Spotlight on @LeaBronsen, Author of #Thriller #Romance #Suspense

Hello Decadent Diva Readers,

 Greetings from Shelter-In-Place San Francisco! I hope you and your families are healthy and hanging in there during this global pandemic. My family has remained healthy so far, and we are all working from home and/or attending online school. I recently hosted an author on my personal blog and wanted to share her stories with you on this blog, too. So, here's a spotlight for you on Lea Bronsen, author of thrillers, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.

Shade Addiction by Lea Bronsen book cover

  Title: Shade Addiction
Genre: Dark Erotic Romance
Publisher: Writer's In Crime
Date of Publication: 3/13/20 (2nd Edition)
Word Count: 97 Pages

Ex-boxer Mike Logan struggles to put a brutal past behind and make ends meet as a bus driver. When a young runaway settles for an all-night ride, he seizes the chance to do a good deed—get her home safely. But first, they’ll drive around and talk.

What he doesn’t anticipate is that this broken night angel is also a sexy little minx needing a lot more…and not just the gentle kind.

**This is an expanded edition of the story previously featured in the anthology Passion, Pleasure, Pain in 2019**

#Dark #Erotic #Romance


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Carnivora by Lea Bronsen book cover

  Title: Carnivora
# in Series: Part 1 of 3
Genre: Dark Psychological Thriller
Publisher: Writer's In Crime
Date of Publication: 9/19/19
Word Count: 144 Pages

Fight evil with evil.

Crime lord Tomor is serving a life sentence behind bars. Without warning, he’s abducted by mysterious men. A sick manhunt is on, with people around him dying like flies. He will need all his street flair and gangster skills to prevent his loved ones from ending up on the death list.

Luz grieves the loss of her lover while striving to take care of their baby. The last thing she needs is to fall for the new neighbor.

A year after he betrayed his adoptive father and sent him to jail, David is slowly rebuilding his life. Then everything falls apart again: he learns that Tomor has escaped, and his police connections lead him to a child sex trafficking ring involving cold, powerful men.

The cops are in over their heads with “Project Carnivora” … Perhaps the only one who can help bust the pedophile predators is an equally vicious devil: Tomor, the country’s most hunted criminal.

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Excerpt: Carnivora, Book 1

“Time to change your bandage again,” the nurse mutters, voice cool, and pulls my orange-colored sleeve up to the elbow.

She unrolls the long strip of bandage from my wrist and tugs at one corner of the gauze plastered on my wound. It sticks as if glued to the freshly grown skin, and instead of removing the gauze carefully, she tears if off hard, discharging pain through my arm, wrist-to-shoulder.

I open my eyes and lift my head off the pillow. “What the fuck are ya doing, trying to reopen the wound or something?”

“Like you care.” She stops pulling and glares, gauze between her fingers. “I can see who you are inside. You’re playing tough, aren’t you, bad guy? But you can’t fool me.”

“Shut up.” I lay down again, huffing, and stare at the white ceiling above me with its rows of long neon lights.

“You’re a good man.”

I glance back. “I said, shut the fuck up.”

Her eyes shine. She rips off the remaining gauze, ignoring my grunt of pain, and throws it in a bin. “Look.”

No fuck.

“Look at it,” she insists, voice low and demanding.

No. I know what I’ve done, and I can imagine what it looks like. A six centimeter-long deep, reddish, scratched-up ridge along my artery. Layers of skin, fat, meat, and whatnot must be visible and sweating a pinkish liquid from the reborn pores. I don’t need to see it.

I guess the girl wants me to be so horrified, I’ll never attempt suicide again. That’s right. She wants to shock me into acceptance.

You gotta be fucking kidding me, little thing.

She shakes her head. “I don’t understand why they gave you the life sentence.”

“You mean they shoulda given me the chair?”

Instead of responding to my sarcasm, she pivots to look up at the clock and widens her eyes as if realizing she forgot an appointment. Face tense, she returns to her work, applies some cool, gel-like liquid on the wound, and bandages it with quick routine moves.

What’s up with her? In my three days in this woman’s company, I’ve noted the things that make her tick. Maybe she’s upset because I’m leaving the infirmary soon. Earlier, she said she didn’t know when I’d be ready to go back to my cell. She probably knows now, but doesn’t want to tell me.

The door opens. She jumps.

A uniformed guard pokes his head in, checks the small room, and exits.

She seems frozen in place, features tense. Staring ahead and taking deep breaths as if trying to regain composure.

I cock my head a little. “What’s going on? They gonna transfer me?”

She visibly swallows and fixes her gaze on some point on the wall.

I snicker. “Are you sad ‘cause I’m leaving?”

Ha, I can be so ugly, when the girl clearly likes me.

As she sits there avoiding me, I take the time to check out her tits, and drink in the amazing sight of their pressing against her green blouse with each breath. She doesn’t have a name tag. Come to think of it, none of the personnel do. Evidently, so the inmates can’t identify their ‘caretakers’, and should they by some miracle leave the premises, track them down.

I nod to her blouse. “What’s your name?”

She twists back to me, brows raised, before shaking her head. “I can’t tell you that.”

“C’mon, I’ll never see you again.” I grin, then add with an ironic snicker, teasing her, “They’ll never let me slash my wrists, or hang myself.”

She looks away and busies herself collecting the medical stuff, throwing a quick, almost invisible glance to the door. What the hell is making her so nervous?

Coldness fills my chest. Something’s up.

“Come on, Babe,” I coax with my most gentle, sensual voice, wanting to buy time. “Tell me your name.”

“Why?” she whispers, fidgeting with the roll of bandage.

“’Cause I want a name to your pretty face when I jack off in my cell.”


Carnivora by Lea Bronsen book cover

  Title: A Thorned Rose in the Sand
Genre: Interracial multiracial romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Date of Publication: 5/5/18
Word Count: 77 Pages

When life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a motorcycle rally across Morocco. But the real excitement is found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert.

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. He dreams of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty biker stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.


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Excerpt: A Thorned Rose in the Sand

The girl screamed behind him. “Eeeeee!”

Too hard to resist. Until now, Ragab had had a difficult time respecting her privacy, but surely, a scream called for attention. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he didn’t check on a woman in distress?

He spun and found her kneeling on her jacket, nude and wet, arms outstretched in shock. He bit down a laugh. Yes, the deep well water was cold, but one got used to it, and in the extreme heat of the desert, it was a blessing.

She turned, caught him staring, and even though he couldn’t see anything inappropriate, she hurried to cover her breasts and pubic area. “Look away!” she shouted, voice panicky.

The laugh bubbled inside him, but he obediently turned back to the motorcycle—then stood in such a way he could see her reflection in one of the side mirrors.

Oh, it was like watching a porn scene. Her long, red curls hung wild over her back and round, white butt cheeks. Every time she moved, a portion of her breasts appeared in the space between her ribs and arms. Such perfect feminine curves, all over. Imagine if he saw the front…

Blood rushed to his groin. Stiffening, bothered, he tore from the sight, walked over to the well, and leaned against its waist-high wall, hoping the hardness of the bricks and coolness from the water below would temper his arousal before it became a full-blown erection.

So silent…

He strained to hear.

Splashes. Muffled squeals. More splashes.

He turned slowly and stole a glance from the corner of his eye.

She washed her panties and black top in the bucket and leaned forward to spread them in the sun. […]


Shocked to his core, he turned back and groaned low […].

He closed his eyes, drew long, slow breaths to calm the painful throbbing and counted minutes, trying to think of something else.

His dromedary, for example. It would be cool to show her how to ride it. What if he rode another one, and they both galloped on the dunes together, she laughing, ecstatic…

Then they’d roll in the sand, and he would tease her thighs apart and […]. Oh, yes.

She called, “Ready?”

He risked a glance in her direction.

Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean—she strolled to the motorcycle, carrying a bag and her clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tanks, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor.

Not once looking at him.


Lea Bronsen

About Lea Bronsen

Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance. Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Pinterest | BookBub | Instagram | GoodReads

Have a great May, Dear Readers, and I'll see you back here on May 30th with some more books for your summer reading list, and a look at my new series. :-)


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Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Staying Safe

Hope you’re all staying as safe as you can. Except for my weekly trek to the grocery store, I've been staying at home. Work and life continue for me, as I’m lucky enough to work from home. As an introvert, I spent a lot of time at home before the pandemic, so it’s not as much as a disruption in my life as it is for many.

Like everyone, I miss being able to go out and do what I want, but this is a necessary step right now. I’ve been isolating at home and social distancing when I need to be out.

I admit, I’ve been delving a little too deeply into the sweets/chocolate. I love 95% dark Lindt chocolate. Yum. And I’ve binged on a couple of Netflix series.

But for me, it always comes back to reading. It’s what I do when the stress gets to be too much. I’ve reread old favorites and bought some new. A friend gave me a gift card for books. It’s like they know me.

If you’re like me and looking for a new book, you might consider checking out Fury Unleashed, the first book in my new paranormal series—Forgotten Brotherhood.


He was once again dressed all in black—jeans that clung to his thighs, a T-shirt so tight it might as well have been painted on, and the same leather jacket he’d worn last night. Sexy and dangerous were the best way to describe him.

She, on the other hand, was clean but grungy. She'd scrubbed the blood from her pants and jacket, but her top had been a write-off. She wore one of Maccus’s shirts, which swallowed her smaller frame and hung below her jacket.

Clothes were secondary to her. She never left home without her edged weapons and gun.

A girl had to have her priorities straight.

Fury Unleashed
Forgotten Brotherhood, Book One

Maccus Fury, a fallen angel, is trying hard to keep his sanity. Seems being an assassin might be catching up with him. Now, Heaven, or Hell, has sent a beautiful assassin to kill him. Lovely. She’s pretending to seduce him, and he’s okay with that. She’s smart and snarky—but she has no idea what she’s walked into. And he’s more than peeved that they only sent one person. They’re going to need an army if they want him dead.

Morrigan Quill is one of Hell’s bounty hunters. She sold her soul to keep her sister safe, and now she’s working off her contract by catching bad guys and dragging them back to hell. When Lucifer makes her a new offer––that’s definitely too good to be true—she can’t say no. All she has to do is kill a powerful and crazy-hot fallen angel, who will totally kick her ass in battle.

Good thing he won’t see what’s coming next.

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
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Wednesday, April 15, 2020


Many writers tend to be introverts by nature, so holing up inside for days isn't too much of a hardship for us. But for weeks on end? Even for me, it's a bit much. The few things I enjoy out in the "real world" like thrift store shopping and going out to eat with my fiancé have become no-gos and I'll admit I miss my old normal. What the new normal will be for all of us is anyone's guess, but here are a few positives for me that have come out of this crisis:

My teenage son, who was supposed to graduate from high school this June has been home for over a month now. I'm sad I won't get to see him accept his diploma in a cap and gown, but he's thrilled to never have to attend school again. Due to all his free time now, I've taught him to play Scrabble and turned him on to some great films he had never seen before, namely the original Friday the 13th (still a classic in my eyes) and Silence of the Lambs. We've also re-watched some favorites from his childhood like all the Toy Story and Shrek movies, which caused us to become all nostalgic and warm and fuzzy.

Even though I'm still going to work, when I come home I have more time to work on my witch potion bottles. One of my favorite thrift store finds are bottles, which I then bring home to decorate with paint, candle wax, insects, charms, beads--really anything that strikes my fancy. Even though I'm not working on my writing, I still feel like I'm creating something

I get to spend more time with my animals. We have 3 cats, a dog, and a bunny, and they LOVE us being home all the time. I think it's because they receive more treats, but I'd like to think it's because they crave our companionship and affection. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.

What I haven't been doing more of:

Cleaning my house
Working out
Learning a new hobby or skill

So, if any of those dumb posts on social media are shaming you into feeling like you should be more productive during this whole isolation, please know there are tons of folks like me who are simply taking it all day by day, hour by hour. We're no more productive now than we were before this whole pandemic happened, and a lot of us are experiencing anxiety over the future and just trying to keep it together. AND THAT'S OKAY.

The important things to remember:

Stay safe. 
Be kind to yourself and others. 
And for the love of all things holy, stop hoarding toilet paper because I still cannot find it anywhere and I'm down to 2 rolls only!

Tiffany N. York believes no one should have to wipe with paper towels, everyone should limit their news intake right now, and the fact that there's less pollution, more sea turtles hatching, and pets being adopted is a beautiful thing. Visit her website (which hasn't been updated in a year, so now would be the perfect time to do that, but...meh) at