“Why do I keep staring at your lips?” It’s an impossible question to ask, and one I know neither of us has the answer to. But I’m only  a man, standing here, with nothing left but his vulnerability and honesty, hoping they’re enough to wade me through this clusterfuck.


“Am I supposed to answer you?” he quips.


Ignoring the taunt, I go on with my thoughts, letting the words tumble out of my mouth freely. “Does it bother you that I can’t seem to take my eyes off them?”


His gaze flicks up to mine, and I watch the tip of his tongue grace his wet, plump, bottom lip. “Does it bother you?” 


“Fuck you, Julian.” The words are empty, as I hang my head between us, force my eyes shut and whisper. “I’m going to fuck this up.”


“Blame the alcohol.”


I snap my head up. “What?”


“Do whatever it is you feel.” He places his hands on my chest, and I feel the heat transfer between us. “And instead of it being awkward after, we’ll blame it on the alcohol.”


“And everything will go back to normal?” I ask, almost hopeful. Why the fuck am I considering this?


“You mean you’ll go home and I’ll be here, and we’ll hate each other?” His gaze darts out of focus, as the last half of the sentence comes out croaky; almost like the words pain him. “Yeah sure.”


With a mind of its own my hand reaches for his chin, and brings his focus back to mine. “I’m an asshole, but that’s not what I meant.”


“Let me go home, Deacon,” he says with a sigh. He wraps his fingers around my wrist. “Sleep off whatever it is you’re feeling, because it’ll probably be gone tomorrow.”


Dropping my hand, his falls too. I take a step back, and shake my head at him, laughing humourlessly. “I can’t.” 


He straightens his stance against the glass window. “What do you mean you can’t?”


“I’ve felt like this all weekend,” I admit, rubbing my hand across the back of my neck. “And for someone who has never even glanced at another man, what I’m feeling has already lasted too long.”


Feeling inundated with nausea, the confession slides out of my mouth, like vomit; with no warning, and just one big mess to clean up.


 Surprising me, he steps forward with an air of confidence I didn’t expect. He tilts his head up slightly, raising his longing filled, chocolate eyes to mine. “So do it,” he says forcefully. The quick rise and fall of his chest is the only tell that I’m not alone in feeling this way. “Do. It.” he enunciates. 


I feel myself swaying, teetering on the thin line of indecision. Toward him? Or away from him? 


WITHOUT YOU arrives March 13th!


Rectify is LIVE!

Rectify is LIVE!


We weren’t just young, we were stupid and reckless.

He was the beginning of every bad decision I made. The enemy of everyone I’d ever loved.

I was a pawn in his game. A prize to be claimed, and a trophy to be flaunted.

Now we’re two adults with crooked pasts, trying to straighten out our future.

His heart belongs to his daughter, while mine is too tattered to give away.

Neither of us believe in happily ever after.

Not after everything we’ve been through.

So, why are we desperately trying to chase ours?

Revive is LIVE!

Revive is LIVE!


Sasha was the girl next door, and at fifteen I was sure she was my forever. She was my constant, and never let me down.

Until she did.

She broke me, yet I still found myself longing for her with a debilitating desperation.

Then came Taylah. A crazy and chaotic hurricane of beauty and bad decisions, she breathed life back into me.

For her, my heart began to beat a new rhythm. She was whimsical, and I was level-headed.
We were mismatched in the most perfect of ways.

But could she compete with history? Taylah was my reprieve, but could she be my new forever?

Revive is coming October 4th!

Revive is coming October 4th!


Looking outside the kitchen window I see my family sitting around the outdoor table, laughing and eating. It’s the happiest they’ve all been in a long time, and Jagger’s finally where he’s meant to be. His girl sitting on one side and his daughter on the other.

It’s been hard for him, and he deserves every good thing in his life, but days like today feel like a punishment. A reminder of all I don’t have and everything I want.

I lower my head in shame and let the familiar need of longing and jealousy consume me. This is why I need to get out of this place. Travel the world, and put some space between my past and my present. I can’t waste anymore time, I need to hurry up and chase my fucking future.

Whatever it is.

Unexpectedly, I feel a small hand putting pressure on the middle of my back. My body freezes, knowing there’s only one other person missing from the picture perfect family out in front of me.

“Drix.” Her voice is low and needy, the familiar nickname sounding foreign on her tongue. “We need to talk.”

My hands grip the ceaser stone bench in frustration, as I shake my head at her request, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”


I exhale loudly, knowing, like always the sight of her is going to have me questioning my decision to leave. She steps back as I turn to face her, and I’m already missing the simple touch of her hand.

I hate myself for it. I hate that all roads lead to her.

Her short honey blonde hair falls in soft waves around her oval shaped, porcelain face. Staring at me with such desolation and emptiness, and I hate that this look is only reserved for me. Her whiskey coloured eyes, that are always too sad for this world, bore into mine.

Now that I see her, the way she stands, the way she’s nervously chewing on her bottom lip, I know. I know the girl I’ve loved for my whole life has come to break my heart one more time.

She’s not the coward between us two. She’s not the one running away, because she can’t face the truth that it’s never going to happen. She’s not the one who would rather be selfish and leave a hole in her family instead of figuring out how to move the fuck on.

No, that’s not Sasha. That’s just me.

“Sasha, I can’t do this right now.”

“I need this, Drix. Before you go, I have to tell you how I feel. I have to apologise.” The air crackles. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

The words become too much, the revelations too painful. Reaching out, I take hold of the back of her neck and pull her to me. Smashing my mouth to hers, I kiss her.

I capture her moan, and I drown out the noise. Rough and frantic, our teeth clash, our tongues duel, and the desperation between us becomes gut-wrenching.

The sound of the back door opening, has me lifting her up, and wrapping her legs around my waist. In a few long strides, we’re in my room, bodies pressed on to the back of the door, mouths melded, both of us refusing to come up for air.

My body’s vibrating with hurt and anger, while my dick is throbbing with need. If she wants to say goodbye, it’s going to be on my terms.

Moving us to the edge of the bed, I drop her carelessly. Her body gives a little bounce, while she seductively makes her way to the middle of the bed. I shuck off my jeans, and pull my t-shirt over my head. Dropping one knee on the soft mattress and then the other, I kneel above her, naked and waiting as she too begins to take off her clothes, finally offering herself to me.

Palming my cock, I impatiently wait for the last bit of her skin to be exposed. By the time the last scrap of material falls, I lunge at her. Too focused on her pale flesh, dusty rose nipples, and slick pussy; my mouth and hands find their way home.

“Why?” I ask myself in between kisses. “Why do I get to have you now?”

Her eyes find mine, tears building up as they take me back to when things weren’t complicated, when things weren’t hard, and when she was unmistakably mine.

My hands find her tits, my tongue tracing her nipples; over and over, never getting my fill. She runs her hands through my hair, sinking her nails into my scalp at every wet swipe. My dick rubs against the bedding as I glide my mouth down her body, the friction providing the smallest relief.

I stop at the top of her slit, my breathing heavy, my heart racing. I close my eyes, trying to slow it all down. But she pushes her hips up, letting her needs be known. Her intoxicating scent makes it impossible for me to hold off any longer. My tongue parts her pussy, licking, and tasting. I tease her clit, flicking and biting.

“Drix,” she cries, and I know the sound of her wanting to come is one I’ll never forget. Wanting her to feel me on every part of her, all at the same time, I thrust two fingers inside her. “I’m so close.”

Rocking herself into my face, while my dick begins to leak at the sight of her. My tongue laps at her clit, and my fingers twist and push further inside of her. Peering up at her, I memorise this very moment. Hooking my fingertips into just the right spot, I watch her stomach and legs begin to shudder.

Head back, neck stretched, body arched, and her orgasm all over my face.

This is my paradise.

As she comes down from the high, she watches me, anticipating my next move. I rise and her eyes fall to my thick, and needy cock. Wordlessly, she sits on her knees, her mouth in direct line with my shaft. She circles her delicate fingers around me, and I hiss at the contact. Stroking up and down, I grow harder in her hands. She lowers her head, licking the tip before sliding me deep down her throat.

“More.” I growl, as I thrust ferociously. Selfishly, I fuck her face, and she takes all of me. I curse the gods above, as I grab her head, and empty myself without warning into her mouth.

Again, I memorise this very moment. How flushed her face is, and how tender her lips look. Alluring and submissive, swallowing every drop of my come. This is my paradise.

Lifting her up, we both kneel, our eyes locked on one another. The salacious moments of earlier pale in comparison to what we know is coming next. I cup her cheeks, kiss her lips and let our bodies fall to the bed.

Her legs drop open slightly, and the silent invitation has me hard again in no time.

Lining myself up, I push into her, and a noise akin to bliss leaves us both. Finding a rhythm, our bodies move with ease, and familiarity.

Unable to look anywhere else, I stare into her amber eyes, as tears stream down her face. With every thrust, I give her all of Hendrix Michaels. My happiness and my heartache, both which have been at her mercy. And she’s right, it needs to end.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

I catch her cry, apologising to her the only way I know how. She clings on to me for dear life, while we make love for the first time, and the last time. My body gives her the last fifteen years while my heart prepares to close it self back up for protection.

Together we pick up the pace, the love and hate between us pushing us further off the cliff. Each stroke drags along the walls of her pussy, and I feel her start to quake.



I bury myself in the only place that feels like home. Her nails dig into my shoulders and I pull back, thrusting with reckless abandon, watching her come undone one last time.

“Drix. Drix. Drix.” My name falls out of her mouth like a prayer, each heady pant echoing around me.

“Come for me, Sasha,” I order. “Let me remember you like this.”

After fifteen long years, we both finally fall of the edge, our hearts shattering as we land.

This is my paradise.

Reclaim is live!

Reclaim is live!

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Unlike most eighteen year olds, I had the weight of the world on my young shoulders. Desperate to do right by my family, my questionable choices led me to the pits of hell.

Steel bars, three meals a day and no contact with the outside world; regret consumed my every thought. Desperate to pay my penance, forgiveness and a happily ever after wasn’t the plan.

But there she was.

Warm, passionate and unexpected, Emerson Lane was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was all a man like me could want and everything I didn’t deserve.

Redemption wasn’t something I thought I would ever find. Until she found me.

Reclaim is one of those books that tugs at your heartstrings. Filled with lovable characters and an emotional journey you won’t be able to put this one down.
Red Hatter Book Blog

Read an excerpt…

A knock on the door almost goes unnoticed, until I see locks of brown hair walking toward me.
I stand up to meet Emerson, shocked at how much solace her presence gives me.

“Are you almost ready?” she asks. Frozen and unable to speak, I nod. Avoiding my eyes, she looks behind me, and finds the bag of clothes Thompson brought in. Stepping around, she grabs the navy and white checkered shirt and hands it to me. “Put this on over your t-shirt.”

Sliding each arm in, I try and fix the way it sits as best I can without a mirror.

“Here, let me do it.”

Directly in front of one another her breath mingles with mine, speaking their own language of anxiety and anticipation. She folds over the collar, and straightens out the material.

Her fingertips graze my skin and I forget how to breathe. “Are you okay?” she whispers.

Like an idiot, I nod, again. Hands circle my biceps and make their way down to the cuff of the shirt. Slowly she rolls the sleeve up to my elbows, and moves to the other one.

The motions are simple, things that people take for granted daily. But between Emerson and I it’s intimate.


With every touch I feel the scars of my isolation come to surface and the tangible fear of not being able to survive beyond these four walls.

“What are you doing here?” I say, finding my voice.

Pulling back, she finally has the courage to look at me. Her eyes stroke my skin, and for the first time her desire is unreserved and obvious. “I wasn’t going to miss watching you walk out of here.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” I confess.

Holding her hand up in the air, she looks at me expectantly. I mimic her actions and let my palm touch hers. She takes it as an invitation to slip her fingers through mine.

I squeeze her hand, like she might disappear in any moment. Holding my gaze, she squeezes it right back.

“You’ve got this, Jagger. Life’s waiting for you to live it.”

“I’ve got this,” I repeat.


“As, I’ll ever be.”

She unlatches her hand from mine, and the separation is poignant and painful.

“Let’s go.”