Tuesday, 2 April 2013

Today's the day! "Vintage Ink — Every Second Counts" is available now!

I'm still a little in shock.

Pinch me...is it real?

No, this—in many ways—is not something entirely new to me, yet it is still a first. "Vintage Ink — Every Second Counts" is available from Evernight Publishing. My first solo release.

Writing this story wasn't only a breeze but immensely enjoyable. Being set in Phoenix, Arizona—where I spent all of my teen years—I felt very connected to the setting and the kind of people you come across. Not to mention the entire story is set around a tattoo shop, something I'm quite familiar with. :)

But it was actually the dialogue and characters that I had the most fun with. Once created, the people came to life and I was merely there to document it all. I'm a panster at the best of times but I literally wrote this story with 100% trust in my protagonists and their friends.

So, without further ado...here is a sneak peak of "Every Second Counts", the first in hopefully a long Series.



Faye "Lux" Prescott has one passion in her life, her thriving tattoo business in the heart of Phoenix, Arizona. Creating art and working with her friends for a living — who has time or need for a man in her life?
All that changes when Brody Cameron walks into "Vintage Ink". The enigmatic stranger is booked for an impressive tattoo and Faye finds herself falling head over heels in lust — or is that love?
Brody's life has been tough, however, and when he reveals his secrets, can Faye help him move forward, or is their budding relationship doomed before it has even begun?


Excerpt: 

"Check this out, though." Jackson placed a sheet of paper on her keyboard.

Faye glanced for a second, lost in the week's totals, when the design caught her attention. Black and white charcoal, grotesquely detailed in typical Jackson style, was a black beast with a fatal wound in its stomach, entrails and all.
"Fenrir. From Nor—"
"Norse Mythology, I know." Faye interrupted him. She dropped her glasses to the desk and studied the drawing closer. "Who's getting it?"
"Some guy called Brody. He wants it across the base of his back and around his ribs. I hope he's got a good threshold for pain, because that ain't gonna feel too good."
"Worth every second. You're making me wish I had room left, Jack. This is fucking incredible!"
"Thanks, Lux. What 'bout you? Anything exciting? Haven't you got that chick with the octopus and the huge ti—"
"Don't be an asshole, and no, she's not in until Saturday. I have a floral chest piece this morning and the start of a nautical sleeve in the afternoon."
"You ink nautical in your sleep, Luxy, baby. Anyone would've expected you to have fucked off to sea with some sailor, by now."
"Not in a million years, my friend. I have a business to run." Faye placed her glasses back on when Jackson continued to talk. Her patience was wearing thin, quick.
"I meant before now."
Faye dropped the papers and lifted her gaze, peering above the thick frames of her glasses at him. "What, per say, do you mean by that, my dearest Jackson? Are you implying that I'm a sad singleton who should be shacked up by now? With a doting and hard-working husband and a circle of children running riot around my freshly cleaned, cookie-cutter house? Do you actually remember who you're talking to?"
Jackson took his sketches from the desk and with his free hand brushed his unkempt, brown hair away from his face. She had noticed that he never seemed to know how to take her outbursts, even in their twelfth year of friendship. "I only meant that you should get laid every now and then. Sex is healthy, you know."
"Yeah, you would know."
"What can I say? The ladies love a tattooed, bearded, sexy beast such as myself."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Now get back to work before I fire your sexy ass."
"Yes ma'am!" He saluted and bowed, before retreating to his station.
Faye shuffled the papers endlessly and after realizing what she was doing, she tried to concentrate on the work at hand. But she couldn't get past the first line and must've read it over a dozen times. Asshole…fucking jerk! What's with men and word vomit? Sex is healthy…so what? I exercise, eat right, and masturbate when the mood's right. What's so wrong with that?
Another knock to the glass door sent the papers in Faye's hands flying in a mad whirlwind around her head. She squealed and the chair she sat on rolled when her body jerked. Her back slammed into the corner of the desk. "Argh, shit!"
Her eyes darted to the door, to see who had caught her nerves at the wrong moment, and her heart fell to her stomach.
"Hey, it's Brody. He's here to check out the sketch before his appointment."
Maybe Jackson had a point, after all…


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