Upcoming Book Signing For Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story

http:/amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas
http:/amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

Good Morning! This Saturday, September 21st, Cinco’s Mexican Restaurant at Perimeter Mall in Atlanta is hosting my book signing for my latest novel, a steamy romance tale of love, betrayal and triumph. The festivities began at 1 pm thru 6 pm. Complimentary light refreshments will be available, and there will be a drawing for giveaways. It’s also an opportunity to meet my amazing editor of this real-life racy romance novel! So come on out next Saturday, meet some new friends, and have a little fun!

Note: Copies of the novel will be available to purchase at the cool, smooth price of $11!

http://amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

Address: 4400 Ashford Dunwoody Rd Dunwoody, Ga 30346 Telephone: 770-557-1598

Stuck In The Basement-Excerpt From Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story

Chapter Fourteen

Nine o’clock the following evening, the lights in the radio station flickered on and off as the evening shift came to an end. Everyone packed their belongings and made a mad dash to the elevator. Growling loud like a baby lion with water leaking from the corners of her bleary eyes, Isabelle was sleepy. Lincoln took note of her peculiar yawning, making a face.  “Damn! What kinda noise was that?” he teased.

“I’m exhausted,” Isabelle dryly replied, unamused by his comment. 

“Maybe I should go home with you and perk you up,” he kept teasing. 

Isabelle lazily chuckled. “Buddy, not this time.”

The elevator stopped, and everyone except Lincoln and Isabelle piled inside. He waved them on. “We’ll wait for the next one.”

Pat looked at them sideways. “Don’t get into trouble, you two,” she smirked as the elevator doors slammed in her face. Lincoln and Isabelle looked at each other and laughed. He pointed to the exit. 

“Let’s take the stairs,” he suggested.

“Good idea,” Isabelle agreed. They ran down six flights of stairs. Their footsteps echoed against the paved surface as they raced to the ground floor. Lincoln opened a gray steel door, and they stumbled into a bright empty room with walls made of concrete slabs. Lincoln let the door slam, and it clapped like a bolt of thunder. 

“Damn!” Lincoln cursed as he fiddled with the locked door handle. 

Isabelle’s heart pounded in her chest, scared. “We’re stuck, aren’t we?” she dared to ask, biting her bottom lip.

“I’m afraid so,” he mumbled as he hurled his muscular frame against the steel door.

“What are we going to do?” 

He stopped for a moment and searched the room. He looked up and pointed at a corner near the ceiling. “There’s a camera up there.”

Isabelle’s eyes followed the direction of his long finger. “Oh, I see it. Someone will rescue us soon!” she excitedly said repeatedly hopping on one foot. Isabelle was hoping for a miracle. Her blouse, soaked with sweat, clung to her body like a cold, wet bathing suit. Sweat beaded on her forehead and blood rushed into her cheeks. Burning up because there was no air conditioning, Isabelle swooned, getting dizzy. She felt like roadkill, and Lincoln took notice.

“Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Isabelle whispered steadying herself. She wiped her face on her blouse sleeve and burst out in anger, “Get me out of here right now!”

“Whoa…calm down,” Lincoln said with his eyebrows touching. “Don’t get so hyped up. Everything will work out.”

Livid he was so calm, Isabelle glared at him and snarled, “You think you’re so damn cool, don’t you?”

“What’s with the attitude?” he scowled. “We’re both in the same boat. There’s no need to get your panties in a knot.”

Isabelle folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. He reached for her, and she jerked away. “Hugging won’t help,” she hissed.

He made another attempt, and she recoiled. “Stay away from me,” she pouted. 

Lincoln curled his lips and demanded, “Woman, come here.”

He came at her, and this time he was successful. 

“Leave me alone!” Isabelle half-heartedly pleaded as she tried to wiggle out of his strong embrace. His hot, sweaty body melted into hers and she surrendered. His warm lips grazed her forehead, and her heart fluttered when he kissed the tip of her nose. His velvety lips brushed against hers, and she clasped her hands on each side of his smooth dark face. Isabelle took him in, and his lips tasted like mint candy. Lincoln’s sizzling kiss was open-mouthed, sweet, hot, dry, and then wet. His breathing quickened, and he licked her neck with delicate kisses, so faint they felt like little whispers. 

She broke away, spoiling the romantic mood. “Don’t you dare give me a hickey!” 

“I wasn’t trying to,” he grinned. 

Isabelle knew he was lying. “Yeah, you were. I felt those little bites.”

He lurched forward reaching for her again. “Let’s finish what we started.”

Isabelle backed away. “No way. We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Come on, just another little kiss,” he seductively begged her. He grabbed her hand. A bolt of electricity shot up her inner arm when his hand wrapped around hers. A tiny pulsating twinge stirred in her fiery loins as he pulled her to him.

Suddenly the lock clicked, and the door flew opened. A security guard, medium in stature, stood in the doorway with a hilarious baffled look on his face, his chestnut eyes crinkled at the corners

Isabelle shouted with glee, “We’ve been rescued!” as she broke from Lincoln’s strong embrace.

“Great,” Lincoln mumbled sounding less enthused.

The security guard snickered. “How did you two get down here?”

“The elevator took too long, so we decided to take the stairs and ended up here,” Lincoln explained. “How did you know we were here?”

“I saw you two kissing on the camera,” the guard snickered again. 

“An eye full, I bet,” Lincoln joked.

“Borderline X-rated,” the security guard joked back.

Isabelle felt her face getting warm. “Not funny!” Embarrassed, she stepped to the door. “How do we get out of here? I want to go home.”

“You’re in the basement. The lobby is on the first floor,” the guard said. 

“Can we go?” Isabelle groaned.

“Sure.” The security guard stepped aside, and Isabelle ran past him. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. Lincoln followed her, and they both booked it up the stairs. “Remember the lobby is on the first floor,” the guard hollered after them.

Isabelle slapped Lincoln hard on the shoulder once they were in the lobby. He grabbed his shoulder and moaned. “Ouch, woman, what’s your problem?”

“Every time I hang with you, I get into trouble,” she complained. “I’m not going to hang out with you anymore.”

His face lit up, and he fell into a donkey-like braying laugh. His massive arms encircled Isabelle’s waist, and he pulled her to him. “You don’t mean it,” he growled.

“Yes, I do!”

He nuzzled his head deep in the soft spot of her neck. His warm breath tickled her, causing her to erupt into hysterical high-pitched laughter. Isabelle wiggled from side to side. “Stop it!” she whined with sheer euphoria mixed with agony. He flipped her around and planted a warm kiss on her lips. Isabelle broke free and pushed him away. “I have to go. I can’t hang with you all night. It’s getting late.”

“I know,” he softly said as he edged closer to her. Isabelle turned away and took off strutting outside into the balmy night air. She stepped briskly to her car, but her quick steps were no match to his long panther-like stride. He threw his arm over her shoulders and yanked her close. Her eyes drifted up, and she gazed into his mocha eyes. His warm lips covered hers, taking her by surprise. The warmth of his hard, hungry kiss spread throughout her entire body, and it felt like she was floating on air. It was magic the way his lips connected with hers. 

Then it was over. Just like that. He rested his forehead against hers.  

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he whispered as he pecked her on the tip of her nose.

“Hmmm,” Isabelle moaned. They held hands strolling to the car with no words passing between them, savoring their special moment and falling deeper in love. On cloud nine, she decided to hold off ending their affair. She was caught up in the moment and she wasn’t ready to let go. Isabelle unlocked the car, and he opened the door. She slid into the driver’s seat, and he leaned in kissing her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow, handsome!” Isabelle softly crooned.

His eyes sparkled and his lips curved up into a smile. “Likewise, beautiful. Be careful driving home.” He slammed the door and backed away. Isabelle turned on the ignition and waved as she backed out, viewing him through the rearview mirror as he walked to his car.

By eleven thirty, she was home, two hours past her bedtime. She slid out of her clothes, dropping them on the floor. Too tired to shower, she fell into bed. Eight minutes later, Isabelle was fast asleep.

Early the next morning, Isabelle struggled out of bed. With only four hours of sleep, she was exhausted. She staggered to the shower and turned on the water. The warm water in her face woke her up. Revitalized, she finished her shower and dried herself off. After she dressed, made up her face, and ate a quick breakfast, she was out the door.

It was seventy-five degrees, unseasonally cooler for an August morning in Atlanta. Once she arrived at work, Isabelle stopped by the mail room to retrieve her messages. After she settled in her office, she made herself a pot of Starbucks coffee. Soon, the coffee’s citrus aroma consumed her office and she poured herself a cup. While enjoying her morning brew, the telephone screeched loud in its cradle. Startled, she almost dropped her cup as she answered the phone. 

“Good morning, this is Isabelle,” she said in a cheery voice.

“I see you made it in,” Lincoln said.

Isabelle’s face brightened. “Yes, I did. You’re working tonight, aren’t you?” she coolly asked, trying to temper her enthusiasm.

“I plan to,” he replied. 

“Good,” she said.

“So, will I see you later?” 

“Yes!”

“Bye.” He hung up, and Isabelle slurped down her coffee. Barely tasting its nutty flavor, the hot liquid burned the tip of her tongue and her entire palate stung. She waved her hand in front of her face, taking short breaths to cool off her mouth. Again, the telephone screeched in the cradle, scaring her. She answered on the second ring. 

It was Jinx. “Are you coming by this morning?” she inquired in a loud voice.

“Yeah girl, I got something funny to tell you,” Isabelle informed her.

“Hurry up and get down here,” she cursed, hanging up. The phone slamming in the cradle rang loud in her ear. She grabbed her coffee and hustled to Jinx’s office. Five minutes later, Isabelle pounded on the door. 

“Come in!” Jinx hollered. Isabelle plowed through the door and sat. She crossed her legs, sipping on her coffee, quiet. Jinx’s eyes were birdlike as she examined Isabelle’s face. “You’re up to something. What happen?”

Isabelle set her coffee on the end table and burst into a belly laugh. “Nothing bad.” 

“Tell me,” Jinx inquired as her hazel-green eyes flickered with excitement.

“Last night, Lincoln and I got locked in the basement at the radio station. At first, we couldn’t get out, then…”

Jinx reared back in her chair, and curse words fell from her lips. “Shit, girl, what the fuck did you say?”

Isabelle lost control as she burst into wild laughter. 

“Stop laughing,” Jinx scolded her, looking cross. “How did you two get locked in a basement?”

“We decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, and we ended up locked down there.” 

Jinx stared at her with intrigue. “How in the hell did you two get out?”

“The security guard saw us kissing on the video camera, and he let us out.” 

It took a moment to sink in, and when it did, a toothy grin crossed Jinx’s face. Then she howled with uncontrollable laughter, doubling over and holding her stomach. Isabelle cackled hard. Their tummies ached from all the laughter. Finally, they manage to stop as they struggled to catch their breath. 

Jinx, still red in the face, spoke first. “Girl, you and Lincoln are fucking crazy.”

“We didn’t plan it,” Isabelle snickered. “It just happened.”

“Who in the hell gets locked in a basement?” Jinx said violently shaking her head.

Isabelle pleaded with her. “Don’t tell anybody please, not even Kandy.”

“I won’t,” Jinx chuckled, bucking her eyes. “So embarrassing. Who gets locked in a basement? Crazy!”

“Shit happens,” Isabelle shot back.

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. I suppose you plan to see him again this evening with your crazy self.”

“I sure do,” Isabelle said as she sprung to her feet and dashed to the door. 

Jinx followed her and stood in the doorway. “Isabelle, keep your little ass out of the damn basement!” she yelled after her as Isabelle hurried down the hall. Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this chapter click on the link below and purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story. Don’t Miss Out! Until next time.

Don’t Miss Out On The Special Promotional Offer for Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story On Amazon!

Happy Saturday Everyone! Starting Monday, August 26, 2019 thru Labor Day, the paperback version of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story will be available on Amazon for a special promotional price of $10.99! So Hurry and Take Advantage of this Special Offer by clicking on the button below.

FROM THE AUTHOR’S CORNER: WHISKEY AND MERLOT A Love Story On Amazon For $10.99!

Good Afternoon Everyone! I’m pleased to announce that Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story is now available on Amazon. For a limited time you can purchase the paperback version for $10.99, and after Tuesday, August 13, 2019 the retail price will go up to $15.99. So Hurry and Take Advantage of this Offer by clicking on the link below!

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B06XBDKBYC

For you kindle readers, there is a kindle version available for $9.99 ongoing. All you have to do is go to Amazon.com and input the title Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story and you are on your way to purchasing your copy of this steamy, entertaining novel! I promise, you will not be able to put this one down!

Then if you happen to be in Atlanta on Saturday, September 21, 2019, there will be a Meet And Greet Book Signing with the author, Anita Dixon Thomas.

Where: Cinco’s Mexican Restaurant at Perimeter Mall

Time: From 1-6pm

Purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story in advance on Amazon and come out to Cinco’s Restaurant to meet the author and have your book signed

Bring your friends! There will be light refreshments, free giveaways, a brief presentation as well as a question and answer session with the author .

Limited editions of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story will be available for purchase at the signing for the regular retail price of $15.99. Hope To See You’ll There!

Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story-Prologue

Prologue

Eleven Years Earlier-July Nineteen Eighty-One

Isabelle gazed in the mirror, touching up her red lipstick. She rolled her lips, smoothing out the bright color. She looked pretty in her white lacey floor-length dress with the heart-shaped bodice cut low above the breast. The gold cross dangling around her neck was a gift from her Dad. On the dresser, in front of her, laid a pair of simulated pearl earrings with a matching necklace. Isabelle picked it up and placed it over her cross. After she hooked the jewelry in place, she slipped on her pearl earrings. Then Isabelle stepped away from the mirror to admire herself. On each side of her smooth coffee-latte face was a dangling black curl, and the rest of her hair was swept up into a loose curly bun.

Preoccupied, Isabelle stared into the mirror with sad, mahogany eyes. She was supposed to be happy because today was her wedding day. For the first time in her life, she felt unsure about her decision. She was always confident with her decisions, never second-guessing herself. However, her biggest fear she might be marrying the wrong man, and that bothered her to no end. From the moment she saw Rosette, Isabelle instantly knew he wasn’t the one. However, she liked him. He seemed to fit the bill. He was tall, handsome, a Christian and a gentleman, and he was college-educated with a great sense of humor. He had all the attributes of a life-long partner, but Isabelle felt something was missing. 

Isabelle drew in a deep breath as those thoughts weighed heavily on her mind. She entertained canceling the wedding, after all, she and Rosette only dated for ten months. Maybe, just maybe they needed more time. If they had time, perhaps she could figure out what was missing in their relationship. Isabelle flinched from the hard knock on the door and she hollered. “Come in!” 

The door swung open, and Claude Dickson, her father, walked in. He was looking handsome and dapper in his doubled breasted gray silk suit, and his smile lit up the entire room like the morning sun. Claude was six-foot-tall with a vibrant chocolate complexion, and his graying afro was cut low to his head. His dark brown eyes rested on Isabelle, and he beamed with joy. “My number one daughter, don’t you look beautiful this afternoon!”

“Thank you, Dad,” Isabelle said. Her father fondly called her his number one daughter because she was the oldest of four.

“Are you ready to take that trip down the aisle?”

“I think so,” Isabelle sighed, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Ah…what’s wrong? You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day.” Claude came over and stood in front of her, placing his large warm hands on her shoulders. 

“Dad, I feel weird,” Isabelle said, poking out her bottom lip. “I care for Rosette, but something is missing. I’m wondering if I’m making the right choice.”

Claude looked his daughter square in her eyes and said. “You don’t have to do this. You can put this marriage on hold.”

Isabelle folded her arms and frowned.“ I know Dad, but I’ve two hundred and fifty guests out there waiting to see us get married! I can’t cancel now. It’s too late!” 

“It’s never too late. It would be best if you didn’t worry about that. Your guest will get over it. After all, it’s your life,” Claude flatly said as he let go of his daughter. He went to the sofa in front of the stain-glass window and sat. Claude drew up his right leg and rested it on his left knee. Quiet and somber, he intently studied his daughter’s face as he stroked his graying mustache.

Isabelle flattened her hand against her stomach, frowning slightly, concerned. Her eyes zeroed in on her father’s. “I thought you like Rosette! You said he’s a good man.”

“He is, but he’s not right for you, and I think you already know that,” Claude’s forehead furrowed. “If you don’t feel it’s right, don’t marry.”

 Isabelle’s eyes went round with surprise. Swallowing hard, she absorbed the seriousness of her father’s words. She marveled at how well her father knew her. He was right. She shouldn’t marry Rosette, but she didn’t want to disappoint him or their guest. So to save face, she came at her father from another angle. “Dad, I’ll be all right. It’s just cold feet,” she calmly insisted.

Claude gave her a stern, all-knowing look. “Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”

“Dad….” Isabelle whined.

“Dad nothing!” Her father cut her off, unwilling to agree with her. “It’s your life! You got to live with your choices, not me, not Rosette, not those people out there! You do!”

 Isabelle hung her head. She hated when her father chastised her. “You’re right. I guess I have a decision to make.”

“You certainly do.”

 Isabelle dragged herself to the sofa and sat. She rested her head on her father’s shoulder and closed her eyes. They sat in silence for a while then the wedding march song faintly echoed through the door. “So what’s your verdict?” Claude asked, breaking the solitude.

Isabelle opened her eyes and raised her head. She looked at her father. “I guess I’m getting married,” she said. 

Claude stood on his feet and smiled. He extended his hand, and Isabelle grabbed it. She got up and followed her Dad to the door. When he opened it, the wedding march boomed overhead through the loudspeakers. Isabelle walked out first, then her father next. As he closed the door, Claude turned toward his daughter, and his lips erupted into a bright smile. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’m going to be,” Isabelle smiled back. 

“Then let’s get you married!”

 Isabelle held her head high as they walked to the sanctuary. When the usher opened the wooden doubled doors, everyone rushed to their feet. Rosette Perkins stood at the altar smiling broadly. He looked dashing in his white tux as he stood anxiously waiting for the ceremony to start. With all eyes peeled on her, Isabelle smiled. Then she slipped her left arm inside her father’s bent elbow, and together they entered the sanctuary and walked down the aisle.

Thank you for reading. If you want to know if Isabelle stay married, purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story on Amazon.com Now by Clicking On Link Below! I promised you it will be an entertaining read!

The Struggle Is Real-An Excerpt From Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story

For over 25 years, Cafe 290 has been the hottest and coolest jazz club in the City of Atlanta. Owned by John Scatena, the club is the most respected venue for mainstream, contemporary and funk jazz. Well known, national and international jazz artists often perform there.

In Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story, Isabelle goes on a date to this famous haunt. Now embroiled in a sizzling romance with Lincoln Davis, she struggles with her conscience and Christian faith. One Sunday after church, one of the church ushers asks her out to Cafe 290 and she reluctantly accepts. Later, she tries to convince her best friend, Jinx why she agreed to the date.

***

Carl called on Wednesday evening precisely at eight after Isabelle had settled on the couch to watch her taped recording of  Living Color. They talked briefly and Isabelle agreed to meet him at Cafe 290 at nine in the evening on Saturday. He offered to pick her up, but she refused. Carl sounded disappointed, but Isabelle didn’t care. He was pushy. A red flag. It was best to err on the side of caution. After they hung up, Isabelle loathed her upcoming date. She wasn’t excited. It was just something to do. A way to get Lincoln Davis off her mind.

The next morning, Isabelle told Jinx about her upcoming date. Jinx understood her intentions, but she knew better.

“Girl, please,” she said rolling her hazel eyes toward the ceiling. “Do you think this man can make you forget about Lincoln? You’re fooling yourself.”

“It’s worth a try,” Isabelle said digging in her heels.

“Face it. You’re in love with Lincoln,” she shot back. “It’s written all over your face.”

Her words hit Isabelle like a ton of bricks, and she turned scarlet inside. “Maybe,” she retorted getting flustered. 

Jinx gave her a knowing look and cursed, “Maybe, my ass.”

“You’re overreacting,” Isabelle sneered back. “You exaggerate too much.”

Jinx’s laugh was sarcastic. “Girl, get a hold of yourself. This shit is not going to work, and you know it.”

“Watch me,” Isabelle said rushing to her feet. 

“Okay, but Lincoln has your heart.”

“No, he does not.”

Isabelle burned with anger. Jinx was right. She just wasn’t ready to hear it. Isabelle stomped out of her office, and Jinx came to the door. She stood in the doorway chuckling as she watched Isabelle hurry down the hall. 

“Don’t forget to call me,” she cackled after her. “I want to hear all about that date.”

Irritated Isabelle didn’t answer. Jinx’s teasing got on her nerves. Frustrated, she went to her office and sulked for the rest of the afternoon. Thank you For Reading. Comments Welcome. Order Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story On Amazon by clicking on this link below.

The Date-Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story

In this week’s excerpt from Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story, heroine, Isabelle Perkins had her first date with Lincoln Davis at La Carousel Lounge, a jazz club owned by Robert and James Paschal in Atlanta. 

 In 1960, the club with a capacity to seat two hundred patrons opened its doors next to Paschal’s, a restaurant the brothers owned. Known as Atlanta’s “jazz mecca,” top notched jazz musicians and vocalists like Ramsey Lewis, Aretha Franklin and many others performed there on a regular basis. 

Viewed as the “happening place” for the city’s African-Americans, the Pashchal Brothers also welcomed White patrons to the club, the only establishment to do so at the time. No wonder Isabelle’s love interest, Lincoln Davis selected the club for his romantic date with her. Not only was La Carousel Lounge a “happening” place, but it was a historical trendsetter for its time. Read about Isabelle’s exciting date with the handsome Lincoln Davis below. Enjoy.

Isabelle could spot Lincoln anywhere. She saw him the minute she came through the door. Lincoln looked handsome in his blue silk suit and shiny black Calvin Klein oxfords. He wore his suit well with his fine, commanding presence, and her heart fluttered with excitement. He made his way over to her, and his lips parted into a gangster grin. His swagger and handsome looks were magical to her, and Isabelle felt her knees buckle at the sight of him.

She managed to stay upright, drawing in a deep breath as she met him halfway.  

“What’s up, Baby Girl?” he greeted her, grabbing her hand. 

Goosebumps tingled up and down her arm when she touched his hand. She knew she was in deep, deep trouble. This affair was going to hurt once it was all over. However, she couldn’t stop herself. She was swept up and dazzled by his sexual charm. 

“How are you this evening?” she asked.

“Better now,” he grinned.

The music faded into a bebop rhythm, prompting a crowd to dash to the dance floor. Lincoln led Isabelle to the non-smoking section. He pulled out a chair from the table, and Isabelle sat. 

“So, what are you drinking this evening?” he asked as he scooted his seat closer to her.

“Wine,” Isabelle said with her voice quivering a little. All of a sudden, she was nervous and overwhelmed with the whole situation.

“What kinda wine?” he inquired as he gestured for the waitress to come over.

“Merlot,” she said. The waitress bounced over, took their orders, and left just as quickly. The music changed from a bebop rhythm to a slow melodic tempo, turning the atmosphere into a romantic mood. 

Lincoln leaned in closer, and she felt his hot breath on her cheek. “Care to dance?” he asked.

“No, I pass,” Isabelle replied cautiously.

“What are you so afraid of?”  

“You,” she answered in a soft voice.

“What do you think is going to happen here?” he whispered in her ear.

Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, giggling nervously. “Nothing, I guess.”

He stood, towering over her, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s dance.”

He led her to the dance floor and pulled her to him, placing his left hand firmly on her hip. He held her close, and his muscular strength made her feel vulnerable and safe at the same time.

They floated across the room as if hypnotically synced as one. The fragrance of his lavender cologne made her swoon, and she thought she would faint. He held her closer, and she felt a hard ridge pressing on her abdomen. He was hard as a rock, and his arousal inflamed her sexual desire. When she gazed into his handsome ebony face, he leaned over, and his lips were five inches from hers.

He whispered, “The problem is…if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“Go ahead,” Isabelle boldly said with her heart pounding in her chest. “I want you too.”

She felt the gentle press of his velvety dark lips on hers. He kissed her as if she belonged to him. For a moment, she could taste the next sixty years of her life as she surrendered to his intoxicating passion. He kissed the tip of her nose and moved to her neck gently nibbling and sucking on her soft skin. Isabelle’s eyes widen, and she pushed him away. 

“No hickeys!” she scolded him.

“Okay,” he laughed. 

“Not funny!”

He backed off. “Keep your panties on. I get it.” 

He took her hand, and they returned to the table. Their drinks had arrived, and they both sat. Isabelle tasted her wine. It was smooth and dry, just the way she liked it. 

“Mmm, very good,” she purred feeling pleased. Isabelle eased back in her seat and looked at Lincoln. “Do you come here often?” 

“Been here a couple of times. It’s okay for a drink.”

“Mm-hmm,” Isabelle said. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, and he said, “I kinda like you.”

“Kinda like me? What is that?”

He leaned in closer. “Okay, I like you.” 

“This isn’t going to work. You’re married.” 

“So?”

Isabelle’s mahogany eyes sharply bored into him. “What do you mean ‘so’?”

“Do not challenge me, woman.”

Isabelle reared back with her temper flaring. “Oooooooo, you got the wrong one, my brother! I will challenge you if I damn well please. Who in the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

He cracked up laughing. “You’re so cute when you get mad.”

“Oh, you think I’m cute when I get mad? Well, get ready handsome, because I’m about to get fine as hell!”

“Isabelle, calm your sexy ass down,” he chuckled with his eyebrows touching.

“Well…”

“Well, nothing,” he interrupted her. He stood up and extended his hand. “Let’s dance, Baby Girl. You need to calm down.”

Isabelle giggled hysterically. She loved the way he handled her. Most men couldn’t deal with her temper, but he could. Lincoln saw right through her brash exterior, and it was refreshing. She took his hand, and they danced for the rest of the evening. 

When he escorted her to her car, it was one o’clock in the morning. Before they parted, he planted a series of hot sizzling kisses on her lips and Isabelle fell for him before she even realized it. Until Next Time. Thanks For Reading. Comments Welcome. Purchase Your Copy Of This Steamy Entertaining Love Story by Clicking on the link below.

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B06XBDKBYC

Why Atlanta Was The Setting Choice for My Latest Novel.

I moved to Atlanta in October 1989 to take a clinical social work position at Emory University Hospital.  It wasn’t long after, I became fast friends with a social worker who was embroiled in a sizzling affair with a married man. As our friendship grew, she told me about her entertaining, juicy affair, a story I thought one day would make a good romance novel. 

As a wide-eyed transplant from Seattle, I found Atlanta rich with history and quite intriguing. Not only was the city the capital of the state of Georgia, but it also was and still is the most populous, multicultural and economically driven city in the entire state. Metro Atlanta is home to 5.9 million people and it boasts the nickname “city in a forest.” The nickname stuck with the city because of it’s sprawling landscape of green vegetation and beautiful dogwood trees.

 Atlanta is home to Coca-Cola, Delta Airlines, Home Depot, AT&T, Chick-Fil-A, UPS, as well as higher learning institutions such as Georgia Tech, Georgia State, Morehouse and Spellman Colleges.  The city is notable for its role in the civil rights movement in the 1960’s. Atlanta became the meeting place for civil rights leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He met with activists at the historical restaurant Paschal’s to strategize and organized marches. Many years later, Atlanta hosted the 1996 Summer Olympics earning a reputation as an upscale city to live and work.

Atlanta, with its mild winters and hot, humid summers, rocks a beautiful skyline. Affectionately referred to as the “New York of the South”, on a clear, sunny day, the city’s skyscrapers give the area an impressive regal flair. Atlanta has many mecca offerings such as the arts, theatre, professional sports, festivals, as well as night club entertainment. The city draws thousands of visitors throughout the entire year making it one of the best places to vacation. There is always something to do in the “HOT ATL”, another affectionate nickname given to the city by the locals.

In the novel, Whiskey and Merlot A Love Story, Isabelle’s and Lincoln’s first date was at the La Carousel Lounge Jazz Club on Martin Luther King Way near downtown Atlanta. The club was housed in a popular restaurant called Paschal’s back in the day, and this is where Isabelle and Lincoln had their first date.  To read more about their romantic date, tune in next Saturday for another excerpt from Whiskey and Merlot A Love Story.  Thank-you For Reading.

Excerpt From The Novel Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story

Isabelle Perkins meets Lincoln Davis for the first time at an evening part-time job she is applying for. Enjoy!

There sat a man with smooth, ebony skin. His chiseled, lean face and velvety smooth lips complimented his captivating mocha colored eyes. His entire essence was sensual and reeked of calm confidence. Isabelle stared, taking him all in. Two women hovered near his cubicle, competing for his attention. Isabelle sighed, shaking her head. “Damn, he’s fine!” she muttered to herself as she casually strolled by him.

He pulled erect, and his six-foot four-inch stature towered over everyone. Their eyes met, and he winked at Isabelle. His smooth lips parted into a shy smile, and Isabelle looked away, mortified. Damn, so embarrassing! 

Jo nudged her shoulder, and Isabelle turned to face her. “Let’s go to the break room. I need you to watch a boring video.”

“Great,” Isabelle mumbled heaving a sigh of relief. 

The break room had a fully equipped kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, and microwave. Two bowled sinks sat in a marbled granite counter, and three round tables with six chairs were lined up next to each other in the middle of the room. 

“There’s tea in the cabinet,” Jo said. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

Jo left the room, and Isabelle tossed her handbag on the table. She blew out her cheeks and sat. Isabelle decided to forgo the tea, preferring a hot cup of Starbucks coffee instead. She needed the caffeine to wake her tired ass up!

Yawning from exhaustion, she sat there.  Alexis, her daughter, soon came to mind.  She wondered if  Rosette would take care of her  while she worked in the evenings. She decided he would. He better. Alexis was his daughter, too!

Isabelle eyed the Essence Magazine on the table and grabbed it, momentarily leafing through the pages. Bored, she tossed the magazine back on the table and held her hand up inspecting her fingernails. 

Suddenly Isabelle felt a presence in the room. She looked up and her mouth fell open. The handsome man just walked past her table on his way to the refrigerator. Isabelle grabbed the magazine, pretending to read it, slyly peeking over it to check him out.

He was a suave one, bowlegged with a smooth, panther-like swagger. He had a full head of wavy processed black hair and was broad-shouldered with a muscular, lean frame. The light in the room enhanced the color of his glistening smooth ebony skin, and he had a commanding presence about him. Isabelle heard him yank the refrigerator door open and held her breath. Should I say something? I’m not sure… Girl, move your lips! Say something!

“Lincoln Davis,” he finally said with a husky voice. He shut the refrigerator door and Isabelle, wide-eyed, almost peed on herself. This fine-ass man is talking to me! Girl, say something back! Say something!

“Excuse me?” Isabelle said glancing up from her magazine and trying to sound annoyed.

“I’m Lincoln Davis,” he repeated as he glided over to the table. He twisted the cap off a bottle of water in one smooth move. “And your name, young lady?” he asked.

“Isabelle Perkins,” she answered as she laid the magazine on the table. She shifted in her seat, and when he smiled, she noticed the sexy gap between his two front teeth. Oh shit! Isabelle feared she would pee on herself right there in front of him.

“So, are you taking the job?” he asked with his captivating eyes locked on hers.

“I guess so,” she said fidgeting in her seat.

“You guess so?” His eyebrows slanted inward. 

She gave him a full smile, a weapon she often used to disarmed men. He was no different. “Yes, I’m taking the job.”

“Pretty smile you got there.” 

A compliment? Please stop it! You’re already killing me! “Thanks,” Isabelle replied in a coy voice. 

“So, where are you from?”

“Seattle.”

“Seattle, Washington,” he echoed back to her with his sexy gangster grin. “I always wanted to go to Seattle. After I left Michigan, I came down here instead. I never made it to the West Coast.”

“Well, that’s too bad. You missed out. The West Coast is quite beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You say you’re from Michigan?” 

“Yeah.”

“What city?”

“Detroit…” He trailed off as Jo bounced into the room. 

She frowned when she laid eyes on Lincoln. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes not leaving Isabelle’s.

“I think you do.” She motioned for him to leave. 

He ignored her, never once taking his eyes off Isabelle. “Miss Perkins, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you,” he grinned.

“Likewise,” Isabelle smiled shyly. He whirled around and glided out of the room, disappearing into the hall. 

Jo wasted no time giving Isabelle her opinion. “Stay away from him,” she warned with intense eyes. “The man’s a player! Do you hear me?”

“Really? He didn’t come across that way,” Isabelle said, mildly irritated.

“Believe me, the man is,” she insisted. Isabelle decided to let her have her opinion. She wasn’t about to get into it over a man she hardly knew.

Until Next Time, Thank-you For Reading!