Stop by and say hello to Rebel Elite, DH Black


DH Black

Do you hunger like I do?
Do you crave what only I can give you?
Come…be with me forever…

Hiding in the shadows, he stood watching her. It would be impossible for her to detect his presence. He was always very careful. Cocking his head, he scrutinized every aspect of her appearance and nodded in approval. There was something beautiful about her and the way she handled herself. Of course he’d watched on more than one occasion, studying her every move and every aspect of her daily routine, but tonight was somehow more special. Every cell in his body ached to touch her but he was strong in his convictions. Never would he allow himself to interfere. Instead, he remained a voyeur simply indulging in a fantasy. Sniffing, he followed closely behind as she moved through the darkened streets toward her car.
Given the light breeze, he garnered a whiff of her perfume and the musky scent filled him with hunger. Licking his dry lips, he was forced to adjust his aching bulge. He longed to taste her, fuck her and then kill her. It was his way and she was interfering, but he wasn’t ready yet for the end to come — for forever. No, he wanted more time to play. Resisting a chuckle bubbling to the surface, he placed his hands in his pockets and glanced up at the star filled sky. After the bars and restaurants were closed for the night was the only time he was comfortable tempting his fantasies and stalking his prey. And here he was out before curfew. Smiling, he knew he was risking his entire plan but she was too desirable to resist. She’d called to him unknowingly and he had to see her. There was something so delicious about knowing her schedule.
Somehow the thought gave him a deep-seeded desire. If only he had the courage to reach out and take her here and now. No. It simply wasn’t time yet and he had to mask his true identity from her powers. They’d be growing soon enough and when they did he’d be forced to end the game completely. There was much to be done. The sounds of the city filtered into the dark area and while she was cautious, hugging her purse to her body, she was confident in her manners, her steps. Merely going about her business, she was unaware a monster lurked in the shadowed light.
As she turned what he knew to be the final corner, he heard the blipping sound as she unlocked her car door. He continued to watch her every move from the way she brushed her hair back from her face to the moment she scanned the perimeter of the parking lot before she climbed inside. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Too bad she was going to die. At least in her death would be redemption.
He took a stride back further into a dark alcove as the engine roared to life. Headlights flashed in his direction and she took off, heading straight for his hidden location but he wasn’t afraid she’d see him. After all he was nothing more than a ghost. When the car roared past, he stepped out into the hazy light and emitted a strangled sigh. Standing still for several minutes, he cocked his head and attempted to calm his desires. He was in too much need. Perhaps it was time for a snack to squelch the growing rage.
As he moved up the street he kept his head down until a noise caught his attention. The scent of a woman was difficult for him to resist. Hearing feminine laughter coming in his direction, he could see what appeared to be a young woman talking on a cellphone. Perhaps this was karma. He kept his stride even as he walked toward her. There was no reason for her to be afraid. After all this was a fashionable part of the city near some of the most eloquent clubs in town, many of them catering to the darker side of sex for the wealthy and privileged. The closer he came to her the more he hungered. Not only was she a beautiful creature but she also reminded him of the one he really wanted. From the girl’s long hair and creamy white skin to her very sensual manner of dressing, she was almost breathtaking and very innocent. Or was she? Honing in on her call, he grew incensed.
“No, Kiki. Seriously. That’s not what he was talking about. I tried to tell you this before,” she said as she brushed her hand down her skirt. “I know. He’s an asshole. There’s no doubt about it. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt but he was just trying to get me into bed. Not that I would mind but on my terms period. He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips. Hell, he just pretended to be rich but I Googled him and know better. The man’s almost broke. Can you believe the nerve of him?”
Clenching his fist, he emitted a low hiss. Why were they all the fucking same? He slowed his gait, allowing him to hear more of her conversation as he eyed the darkened storefronts. They were closed for the evening. Stepping into the shadows, he waited for the perfect moment. There was no doubt in his mind he was right in doing this, saving the bitch from herself.
“Like I said, I’m going home to slide into a tub with a glass of wine and then I’m going to read a romance novel about men in shining armor. You know, real men instead of these cheap bastards. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” The second she closed the phone shut she started walking faster, the clip of her heels echoing into the dense air.
When she passed he stepped out behind her, inhaling a scent of not only her perfume but sex. The woman had engaged in some manner of carnal activity only recently. Sighing, he pushed up his sleeves and closed the distance. All women were alike – bitches. Ridding the world of their kind was his good deed for mankind. Sighing, he smiled at the thought. If only the little people knew how much he was really helping them.
The second he wrapped his arm around her neck she issued a strangled gasp that was immediately cut short by the brut strength of his muscles. “Ooohhhh…” She struggled, kicking out and catching him in the shins only causing him to clamp down harder.
Squeezing with a practiced force, the sharp crack of her neck breaking was a delicious reward for all the hours he’d suffered. “So beautiful and so damn stupid.” Chuckling softly, he dragged her lifeless body into the shadows. As he turned her around to face him, her vacant eyes held the moment of shock and instant death. He shivered from the utter beauty of the kill. “My. You’ll be a perfect addition.” He grazed the tips of his fingers down the side of her face before lowering his head and brushing his lips across hers. Her body sagging in his arms, he pulled back and allowed a low growl to erupt from his lips. He dragged out the knife and gazed at the serrated edges, licking his lips. As he held the sharp point to her throat he thought about the love of his life.
“Soon, my beloved. Soon.”


Do you hunger like I do?
Do you crave what only I can give you?
Come…be with me forever…

Carrington Winters snapped her head up and sighed before catching a glimpse of her notepad. She’d been doodling again. As she read the words twice she grimaced and looked down at the small trashcan nestled against the corner of her desk. She’d written the same passage at least six times in the last two nights. And every time in red ink. Hell, she didn’t even know she owned a red pen. “What’s wrong with me?” The answer was far too damning to think about. Push away the ugly thought. Yeah, that’ll do it. Growling, she shook her head. She was simply exhausted from her self-imposed brutal schedule. That’s all. Time to get back to business.
Brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, Carrington fingered her teacup and sighed. “It’s almost done. Almost?” Blurry eyed, she gazed at the screen and realized all the letters were starting to melt together. Groaning, she sat back in her chair and took a sip of the lukewarm tea. What she really wanted was a tall glass of merlot, but if she didn’t hit send on her manuscript tonight there would be hell to pay. After all, her editor had been patient. The wine could wait until she was absolutely done. The damn errand had cost her nearly two hours. She hated traffic and traffic jams and assholes that acted like the road belonged to them.
Chuckling, she knew she would probably kill off the bastards in her next book. Probably? She was in the business of killing creatively. The thought gave her a smile. Mixing erotic and mass murder was an interesting twist but one she loved. There was no doubt she was enjoying being able to murder some of her characters and not simply have them romp in bed over and over again. Brushing the tip of her finger back and forth across the seam of her mouth, she reread the last two pages and then read them again. Dear God she was bone tired but she had to finish. “You can do it.” Giving her computer the finger, she giggled. Sleep was highly overrated. Still, she loved the book and was thrilled with the outcome.
Her Hidden Desires, Carrington’s highly anticipated second in her gritty erotic crime thriller novels, was already pre-sold to the tune of thousands at every major e-book shelf Internet store and failure to deliver wasn’t an option. The brick and mortar stores had surprised her with the quantity of their orders – or shocked her editor anyway. The story was headline material. Centered around an incredible real-life event in her hometown of Portsmouth Ohio almost three years before, Carrington knew this one could be a best seller.
Climbing to her feet, she walked to the bulletin board nestled in the back corner of her office and fingered the copious newspaper clippings pinned across the four by six corkboard. She’d read every article, every Internet piece in an effort to garner the feel of the dark story. The murders had shut down the small town for two months and the killer had escaped. Shivering, she held her arms and wasn’t able to go down the road of wretched memories. She’d come too far to fall into the trap again. Her story was simply a way of giving a voice to the mutilated women and to give them retribution within the pages of her novel. While completely fictional, with every scenario totally different than the actual chain of events, the haunting piece was certain to ruffle a few feathers. Carrington only hoped the publication wouldn’t drag her into hell.
In truth, changing from being what some called a fluffy erotic romance author to an erotic crime storyteller was a calculated risk and one she welcomed with open arms — hence the name change to C.W. Wynters for the planned series. Exhausted, Carrington sauntered toward the bank of windows, allowing her a spectacular view of the great lakes, and sighed as she palmed the glass. There was no doubt she loved Chicago but every once in a while she was homesick for her small town nestled at the banks of the Ohio River. Shaking her head, she gazed out at the star filled sky and smiled.

Erotic Mystery Writer Carrington Winters finally finished the remaining changes to her highly anticipated second book, Her Hidden Desires. On a tight deadline and seriously sleep deprived, a frenzied late night email sent to her editor lands Carrington’s book and all her very secret, very personal desires in the hands of sexy widowed architect, Jackson Devereaux.

Haunted by the murder of his wife, Jackson finds Carrington’s manuscript and her very guarded needs too tempting to resist. How long had it been since he’d allowed himself to go? Finally throwing his inhibitions aside, he believes Carrington’s email is a sign and develops a plan to meet her. Inspired by the sinful scenarios played out in every chapter, he sets out to figure out why she hides behind a wall shrouded in mystery. As they learn to trust and explore their growing desires, they begin a cat and mouse game of guarded rendezvous’ until a shadowy murderer seeks revenge and targets their budding love. As heinous murders begin occurring, Carrington is forced to face a past she was determined to shelve in an ugly black box but secrets and lies refuse to be denied.

And as the police begin to suspect Jackson as his wife’s killer, a series of evil messages and late night sightings terrorize Carrington. The killer won’t take no for an answer and Carrington is threatened with not only her life but the truth behind Jackson’s mask. What secrets do they both hold that could tear them apart just as they unleash their wildest dreams and deepest hungers? When the killer is finally revealed, a shocking turn of events drags them both into a circle of danger one of them might not survive.

I hope you enjoyed…




Rebel Elite, Suzzana C Ryan

AurorasGhost_Cover (169x250)

Carl Peters lived two lifetimes and one young woman was responsible for his unpredicted journey through time. Aurora fell in love with the wrong man at the wrong time. Her mission was predestined and unknowingly she defied her destiny.
Through a series of events and one lovely entity, a drifting soul had taken love and given it back. Then one Christmas morning, Aurora set all the events back in place.

Have you ever wondered how many lifetimes a soul has seen? Have you ever wondered what a person experiences in the deep sleep of a coma? Have you ever felt a presence and brushed it off?

Love knows no boundaries and neither time nor space can never crush the strength of it. True love endures the test of time and reappears for those who believe.

Aurora’s Ghost Excerpt:

He never saw her standing there. Doctor Jessica Mallory was a tall stunning brunette with deep blue eyes. In her hand, she had his chart. No one was quite sure why he’d been lying in the snow. Since he’d awoken from his coma, he’d been the talk of Mercy and she’d heard how handsome he was. She walked in and saw him lying with his arm over his head. She’d heard about his ranting and his need to find a young woman. He must’ve sensed she was in the room, because he let his arm slip away from his face. Jessica’s eyes widened, he was handsome and what she’d seen of him so far, she envied the young woman he was looking for. She scanned his chart once again. Carl Peters was an enigma.
She had no idea why she felt uneasy, nervous, and felt a sensation close to butterflies in her stomach. Jessica cleared her throat and he opened his eyes. He saw her. He sat up.
“Doctor Mallory?”
“Yes, Mr. Peters, I’m Jessica Mallory and I hear you’re a celebrity. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, doc.”
She moved to the chair next his bed. Her eyes met his and she saw the anguish they held. People who’d been in comas with a severe memory loss usually needed extensive therapy. Some recovered one hundred percent while others regained partial memories and some never regained those lost memories. They had to start new lives and it could be devastating. Jessica felt a tug, it disturbed her, she’d never felt any kind of attraction to a patient. But Carl was different, she’d an overwhelming desire to take him in her arms and assure him everything was going to be fine. She moved slowly from him and made sure she was sitting in the chair and a fair distance from him. She’d counseled handsome men before. She was a professional and never let anything get that way. Yet her undeniable attraction to him disturbed her.
“So, Mr. Peters, how can I help you?”
“Find Aurora Marino.”
“That’s going to be very difficult, Aurora Marino…died at birth.”
She never expected the tirade that ensued when she told him the news. He rose from the bed ripping leads and his IV from him. He grabbed her by the neck and the chair underneath her disappeared. By the grace of God, because he disconnected himself from all the machines alarms went off bringing in almost every employee on the hospital floor. They managed to subdue him and hold him down until security appeared. It took four big bulking security guards to strap him to the bed. Jessica Mallory held her neck, she was quite certain he was strong enough to begin physical therapy. And his attack on her confirmed he needed extensive psychological therapy.
She stood over him, looking down at his tear stained face. Her heart ached, how she wanted to comfort him yet it was important that she tell him.

Stop By And Say Hi To Rebel Elite, Alex Jones



A ‘deleted’ scene from Drown, written exclusively for the Rebel Elite Holiday Blog Hop!

Dom is the star quarterback of his high school football team—Damion is the school freak armed with dark anger and even darker secrets. When their two worlds collide, Dom and Damion must fight to realize who they are and what they really believe, about each other and life. In the first few chapters, Dom is dating Christine, a beautiful cheerleader who adores him. All that changes when Dom meets Damion. The effect on Dom’s close-knit group of friends is a quiet shatter.

Angela pulled up to Chance’s house with restless resolve—she’d just spent the last twenty minutes fielding texts from her best friend Christine, and the conversation had not been a happy one. If what Christine said was true, Angela knew a crisis was building within her small group of friends, and when Chance’s phone had rung and rung without answer, she decided to take matters in to her own hands. Angela knew where he would be, where he always was, when things weren’t alright. It was with no surprise she caught sight of him in the deepening dusk, out on the driveway shooting hoops.
She exited the car.
Chance heard her. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, then went back concentrating on the net hung above the metal garage door.
His distant mood didn’t faze her. She trod over the dying lawn. The porch light flicked on as she approached. It had gotten colder since she left the school; winter was coming. “Hey babe…” she greeted sweetly.
The ball ricocheted off the backboard and fell back down to the drive, bouncing back Chance’s direction. “Hey,” he returned without looking over.
“I’ve been trying to call,” she tried.
He didn’t answer.
Angela stepped onto the concrete, pulling her sweater more tightly around her body. “I talked to Christine earlier.”
Still no response.
“She was pretty upset.”
Chance frowned. “I bet she is.”
The answer was strange—it confirmed what she had begun to suspect. “So… Is it true?”
The ball soared in arc, bouncing off the rim at the last instant. Chance shook his head and retrieved it. “Is what true?” he asked casually.
Angela shifted; she didn’t want to say it. “Is Dom… I mean, is he…”
“Gay?” Chance looked over; his eyes were clear, and calm. “Yeah. He is.”
Angela’s jaw almost dropped. Chance hadn’t fumbled over the word, or said it with surprise, disgust. It was completely natural rolling from his lips. Gay? Yeah. Like it happened every day, saying his best friend was gay. Like it was something everyone knew, that their star quarterback was a queer. Chance seemed completely okay with it. Except… Angela’s eyes narrowed, meeting her boyfriend’s gaze. There was an edge to him still. The reason he was out here, shooting hoops: why he wouldn’t return her call. He stood totally solid, calm. But quiet. Why was he so quiet?
Chance must have sensed her dissatisfaction, because he turned back to the hoop, dribbling the ball for a moment before making another shot. “You’ll never guess who he’s gay with,” came his final response.
Angela’s brows arched in shock. “He’s not actually dating someone?”
Chance frowned. “You know that freak kid, the one who’s always out in the parking lot smoking? Damion?”
“No!” she gasped.
“Yeah.” Chance was concentrating hard now, making shot after shot. “You wanna know when I found out? That my best friend was gay?”
She didn’t reply – she could feel the answer coming.
“Two weeks ago. We’ve known each other since second grade, and he only decided to tell me two weeks ago.”
Angela’s angry visage softened as she saw the pain on his. “Babe…”
“And guess who knew before I did. Just take a guess.” Chance’s shots were becoming more random now, hitting the rim and backboard with vengeance, as if they could change the way things were. “The freak kid who’s probably a witch and definitely a psycho. Have you seen the way he looks? I mean…” He couldn’t suppress an exasperated laugh. “The guy cuts himself, for fuck’s sake!”
Angela stood silent, listening.
“And Dom didn’t tell me because he was scared I’d be mad at him,” Chance laughed. He chucked the ball at the hoop, hard. It flew through the net without so much as a bound off the rim. The feat didn’t please him. “Well guess what!” he barked. “I’m fucking mad!”
Angela still hung back, watching the flood of energy rush through him and then flow out, leaving him standing on an empty driveway, suspended in the incandescent light as the weight of what he had been carrying for the last two weeks come down to crush him. Chance had known already—had known their world was falling apart at the seams, had known their lives would never be the same. He’d seen the bomb dropping in slow motion, and hadn’t said anything.
Without a word, she moved towards him, threading an arm through his. With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. His chest heaved with exertion that didn’t solve anything. “I’m sorry…” she managed. She clutched his arm tighter; “… I’m so sorry,” was all she could think to say.
Eventually Chance’s breath slowed, and the anger faded. He was left only with exhaustion. With a gentle sigh, he turned and wrapped her in a hug. “I know, Ang… I’m sorry, too.”

Drown is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance Books and Bookstrand. Find out more at

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Say Hello to Rebel Elite, Britni Hill

From the Rubble Cover

From the Rubble

In the wake of a terrible betrayal, Taylor and Layla bury their feelings for the other, good and bad, just to get by day to day. Forced together because of their daughter, Taylor struggles to forgive Layla so he falls into the role of fatherhood, naturally striving to be the best father he can be.

Layla’s guilt overwhelms her as she fights herself over her feelings for Taylor. After all, she doesn’t believe she deserves another chance. She’s already had too many.

Making a family out of a broken relationship won’t be easy, but with both Taylor and Layla pushing forward, will they ever find a new normal? Will they ever confront their feelings for one another?

Links to Britni Hill

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Meet Rebel Elite, Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy


One of the recurring themes around the holiday season is home. Songs sing us home for the holidays. Many of us go to often extreme measures to make it home to celebrate with our near and dear. Sometimes we like to return to the place where it all began for us – our hometown, a relative’s house, a special place. Somehow we seek something more than bright lights, pretty decorations, presents, and delightful food or drink. We long to be cuddled and cradled, to reconnect with the oldest or deepest bonds we’ve made. We look for a little burst of holiday magic to bring past and present together as we celebrate and sometimes we realize home is truly where the heart lies. Sometimes we’ve been home without realizing it. It’s not always a place but a mindset and a feeling.
In my last release of 2012 (but don’t worry, readers, there is much more to come in 2013), Home Fires of Christmas, the story – and yes, it’s a short, not a full-length novel – delves into the concept of home. It takes us to one home, one woman, and the hopes she carries within for Christmas. It’s a love story, after all, but it’s a Christmas tale too.

HomeFiresCover (135x200)Home Fires of Christmas

Christmas/romance short
Rebel Ink Press

Lela may be the wife of a famous singer but on Christmas Eve, she finds herself home alone. As she waits for Shane to come home for the holidays, Lela wonders if fame has changed their lives too much. Shane’s out on the road almost all the time while she keeps the home fires burning. Shane’s failure to arrive sends her into a bout of self-pity but when he finally makes it home, she learns things are much different than they seem.

He tasted of peppermints and a fainter hint of good bourbon, pleasant and familiar. Heat kindled between their lips and fire ignited between them as his mouth teased hers into desire. His kiss pleasured her mouth but evoked waves of want in her body, sweet thrills of delight rippling with need. As her body eased into the familiar tension, the yearning just one thing could relieve, Lela curled herself closer against Shane until she felt his hard cock move against her.
He pulled away her robe and stripped her flannel nightgown away. Shane’s large hands roamed over her body, caressing and fondling. He knew just where to touch to evoke her reaction, how to stroke her to increase her desire to a fever pitch. Lela’s hands jerked at his shirt, fumbled the buttons until she could take it off. When she did, Shane unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, bare as the day he came into the world beneath the denim. She admired his shaft and reached out to take it into her hand. As she began to caress him, Shane pulled his mouth away from hers to latch onto her left nipple where he suckled. Extreme pleasure flowed through her body as she arched her back to get maximum reaction. He switched to her right breast, hand cupping it as he tongued around her sensitive nipple until she whimpered with need.
Shane’s fingers moved to her mound where he stroked until her inner pulsing increased so much Lela thought she’d die if she didn’t get satisfaction soon. Her own fingers tangled in his hair, longer than he’d once worn it then moved to rake his back with her fingernails like a she-animal. He groaned with pleasure and maneuvered her toward the antique couch. Lela sprawled on it, legs spread open and he entered her fast and harsh with the power of a river flowing into her body. From the first connection she spasmed with glad satisfaction as each ripple grew until waves of erotic enchantment bewitched her.
He worked her and she gave back, moving beneath him to offer the release they both sought. At last they shuddered together in a climax powerful enough they slid from the couch onto the hard wood floors with a crash. Still connected, the final spirals of bliss spinning them through a rush of delight they burst into laughter, a happy sound carrying them the rest of the way. After he caught his breath, he scooped her into his arms and returned her to the couch where they lay intertwined, firelight playing a game of light and shadow over their nude flesh.

Links to Lee Ann

Twitter: leeannwriter
From Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Blog: Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Amazon author page:


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