Picture Perfect is now an Amazon Best Seller!

Fabulous news dear readers! PICTURE PERFECT is officially an Amazon Best Seller.

My humblest thanks and most sincere gratitude is offered to each and every one of you for making that happen.  These stories come from my heart, and I love sharing them with you.  Having said that, even five books into this process, I am STILL a nervous wreck every time I publish.  Many, MANY people in the world today seem to live to be negative, and it’s commonplace these days to see people securing their positions in the bully pulpit.  When a self-published author makes the decision to press publish, I don’t think it’s possible to overstate how daunting that process actually is.  We do what we do because of a passion that comes from a positive place- it would be nice if everyone who read our books understood that.  I’ve been very lucky thus far to have wonderful comments and really constructive feedback, but I’ve seen some of the hate directed at other self pubbed authors and it breaks my heart for them.

On a different subject, I want to tell you all how much I am enjoying the feedback about Flynn’s Twitter-loving Gram.  I lost my grandmother over a decade ago, but she was the inspiration for Sylvia Rand.  Like Sylvia, my grama was a double-entendre loving firecracker of a woman who lit up whatever room she was in.  She made borderline inappropriate jokes, loved to laugh and was many bubbles off plumb.  The relationship that Sylvia and Mason have is my love letter to my grandparents.  Married for fifty years, they were always affectionate with each other and they never fought.  Ever.  They bickered from time to time, but they never actually fought.  They were partners, parents and best friends, and they always put each other first.  They were frisky in the way that I describe Sylvia and Mason, and that caused a lot of eye-rolling from their children and grandchildren.  Growing up, they reminded me a lot of the funny grandparents in ‘Sixteen Candles’.  Totally off-color (my grandmother A LOT more than my grandfather) but freaking hilarious.

My grandmother would have LOVED to tell people that I was an erotic romance writer, a thought that makes me laugh whenever it crosses my mind.  Like I said in the dedication of Picture Perfect, I’ve got an unusual family!  I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Thanks again to all of you for being the best readers that a writer could ever have.  When I say I love you, I mean it!



“Picture Perfect” is out!




I’m beyond thrilled to announce that Picture Perfect is now available!

Flynn and Tessa’s story is the first in the Renegade Saint series, and I loved writing it.

Fans of my Hart Family series will be pleased to know that since Flynn is Dominique & Delilah’s brother, you’ll get to see a lot of The Harts in this book- and you’ll also get some hints and updates about what’s going on with the family.

Publishing a book is exhausting.  The nerves! Oh, THE NERVES!  I’m half comatose right now because I slept hardly a wink last night waiting for the book to go live on Amazon.





The book is also available on Smashwords.  I’m still waiting for it to go live on Barnes & Noble, but it should be there soon.

A writers work is never done, and I’m hard at work on Dillon’s story.

I hope you all enjoy Picture Perfect as much as I enjoyed writing it!



A taste of Flynn



** This is a part of my working draft- it has not been edited and is subject to change **

The roar of the crowd as the lights went down in the stadium didn’t fill me with joy the way it used to, and that pissed me off .  Where had I gone wrong?

I took the stage in a rage, mad at the world, mad at our management, mad at my band, but mostly, mad at myself.  I wasn’t the man that I wanted to be, and I knew that if I kept going the way that I was, my life wasn’t going to be worth shit.

I was aggressive as I grabbed the mic, but I was phoning it in.  I was in no mood to sing and was giving myself a pass in advance because I knew this wasn’t going to be a good show.

All that changed about four minutes in when I looked down into the front row and locked onto a pair of beautiful chocolate brown eyes.  The chick was young, but so beautiful she made my chest hurt.  She was singing along and smiling, and that made me feel like shit.  She was there to rock,  but I was trying to phone in a shit show.

Something about her, I can’t be sure what, had me sick to my stomach at the thought of  letting her down.  She deserved better than whatever pathetic version of myself that I’d become.  I used to care about the fans and the experience, but for the last few years all I cared about was drinking, fucking and being an asshole.

Staring into those eyes, I pulled my shit together and gave two and a half hours of a performance that was easily my best in years.  I sang almost exclusively to her, needing to bask in whatever the connection between us was. 

Unfortunately, she didn’t get any older during the show.  When it was over, it was over.  My guitarist ribbed the fuck out of me as we left the stage after the encore, asking if I was going to give “jailbait” a backstage pass.  I wasn’t that big of an asshole, and I shook my head in the negative.  “Nah man that would be too fucked up, even for me.”

Grinning at me he asked, “Was that girl your fucking Priscilla or what?”

His yapping was giving me a headache, and I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.  “Dude, what does that even mean?”

“Come on Flynn!  Priscilla Presley.  You almost went all Elvis over a teenage girl.”

His words embarrassed me, mostly because they were true.  After telling him to fuck off, I got blackout drunk to forget the impossible connection I’d felt to a fucking teenager.

The next day I woke up feeling like shit again, only this time, I took stock of my situation and was honest with myself.  I knew I had to change the way I was living. I couldn’t remember why, but I knew I needed to do better, to be better.  I hadn’t always been like a drunken robotic dildo.  I wanted to be worthy.  Of what, I couldn’t say, but the certainty that I needed to be had overtaken me.

I didn’t remember shit from the night before, but my band was happy to fill me in once I asked why everyone was calling me Elvis.  Nothing they said sparked my memory.  I could just barely remember eyes the color of melting chocolate, but that was all.

The name Elvis stuck for about six months but even with all the ribbing, I never got my memory back of the night that changed the path I was on forever.

Work in progress

Hello all!  Hope that you’re all ready for a fun and fantastic Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

I’ll be hard at work on Flynn.  Originally I thought that Flynn’s story would be out by February 25, but I just can’t do it.  I will not release the story until it’s just so, and I’m not there yet.  I will have him out by March 10th at the latest (I factored in time for editing).

I’m also hard at work on Dillon’s story and it’s coming along great.  I’m moving his “delivery” date from March to very early April.  It turns out that writing two stories at the same time is HARD.  In the future, I will focus exclusively on one at a time.  It’s too difficult to choose which story to go to at any given time.

I hope that you’re all patient but still excited to meet Flynn and Dillon.  They’re GREAT guys, and I can’t wait for you all to “meet” them!