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Cabin Fever cover

Title: Cabin Fever
Authors: Shara Azod and RaeLynn Blue
Publisher: Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC
Purchase Link: http://stores.lulu.com/mochamemoirspress
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Interracial Romance
ISBN: 978-1-257-85183-6
Price: $2.99

Blurb: Uber-busy and highly successful Chanta Nicholson thought she had kept all her secret desires carefully tucked away in her diary. Her husband, Drew, while a good man, wouldn’t condone the type of lovemaking she wanted. She liked it rough and wild, but there was no way conservative, straight-laced Drew would even begin to understand her needs. Drew Nicholson could feel his wife slipping away from, hiding behind her cell phone calls and busy late nights at the office. There wasn’t any way he was going to let Chanta go, not without a serious intervention. He’d read her diary and knew what she needed. Most importantly, he knew how to give it to her. Locked in a cabin tucked away in the Canadian forest, Drew and Chanta can’t just kindle a fire, they must make their love burn like cabin fever.
Excerpt

                “Where the hell are we?” Chanta asked. The arch of her delicately plucked eyebrows huddled together in a “v” above her chocolate-brown eyes. With her make-up immaculate and understated, she put any model to absolute ruin. Even frowning, Chanta could cause a traffic jam and a serious six-car pileup. “That doesn’t look like a fabulous island resort, Drew.”
                Drew Nicholson watched his wife silently. Sure he could appease her. Hell, he wanted to, but he stayed silent instead, knowing she would soon either be on the phone with her assistant or typing messages on her blackberry. It was difficult to get and hold her attention these days. He didn’t begrudge her success, Lord knows she worked hard to get where she was at. It just seemed like the higher she climbed the farther apart they grew. He would do anything to rekindle their passion for one another.
                “Drew?” she asked, turning in the seat to face him fully. “Didn’t you hear me?”
                “Yes, of course…” he started.
                She waved him off as her Blackberry began to sing. “Hold that thought.”
                The phone back on her ear, Chanta turned away, putting her back to him.
                Drew liked her back, but he’d seen far too much of it lately.  He tapped his foot in time to the stream of soft classical music pouring from the limo’s superior surround sound.  His mind wandered back to the discovery he had made recently, the discovery that led to this impromptu vacation. Against the bubble of music and his wife’s voice, he recalled discovering her diary buried underneath old shoe boxes in the walk-in closet. The discovery had made him forget what he had originally been looking for. Hell, he still didn’t remember. 
She gestured with her hands, hands he knew itched to be tied to the posts of their four poster queen. Oh, she’d yet to vocalize something so intimate to him, but he’d read her diary—and it outlined her fantasies. He had often dreamed of such things, but was always trepidacious to mention it to his conservative, buttoned up wife. She had been so wild and free once, when they first married. But somewhere along the line sex had become perfunctory and rare. Now, here, at the Vette Resort, he meant to give her just what she been too shy to tell him—her fantasy made real. Just thinking of the things he had planned made him hard as hell. He had to sit at an awkward angle so she wouldn’t see the log that had grown in his slacks.  The thought of Chanta flushed with passion, sweating and panting the way she used to.
Shit, the anticipation was killing him.
                Just the two of them in a cabin with unlimited access to room service should be sufficient for his plan to work. The equipment he’d brought along, carefully hidden in the suitcase she believed carried her vast and varied wardrobe, made small beads of sweat form on his brow.  If he had his way, his wife would be wearing very little during their stay here. Oh, she would pitch a fit when she found the designer “vacation” clothes were still at home in an identical suitcase, but if it went well she just might forgive him.
                Lord, he prayed she would. They just couldn’t keep going on the way they had been. It was like sleeping with a stranger. The only thing she ever got excited about was the latest deal. Like now, on the phone with her prissy assistant—man he really could barely tolerate that woman—going over some red-hot deal that had to be taken care of right away. With the real estate slump, Chanta was quick to jump on a deal. Apparently, even when they were supposed to be relaxing and rekindling the dying flame that was their marriage.
                He had plans for that Blackberry of hers. Just as soon as they arrived.
                “Sir, we have reached the cabin.” The limo driver’s announcement came right on time. The consistent chatter about the buyer and closing costs was quickly starting to work on his last nerve.
                “Drew this cannot be the cabin.” Well at least Chanta had managed to pull herself away from the all-too important phone call long enough to peer out the window at the log cabin.
                The isolated log cabin. Just down the dirt road was a much larger, all-inclusive resort, but he had no intentions of letting Chanta know that. She would be out of here and ensconced in a suite and on her laptop in a heartbeat. Too bad the cabin didn’t have internet and wouldn’t you know it, he had forgotten to pick up the mobile internet device she had left by the front door. Oops.
                “You have got to be kidding me,” Chanta groused climbing out of the limo, ignoring his outstretched hand of course.
                That would change damn it. He loved this woman, more than he thought possible to love anyone. He was bound and determined to show it, to let make her let him show it.
                “It is right on the beach, Chanta and it’s cozy. This is supposed to be romantic remember?”
                He reached down to kiss her, but she turned her head, already back on the phone, so he ended up kissing her cheek. Ah, well. There was time to get her to see HIM for a change, and he was going to use it.
                “I cannot believe this. I will be online in a few. I will email you a new proposal, but do not use it unless he waffles. This is a sweetheart deal, damn it. He had just better realize it.”
                No she wouldn’t, but Drew kept his mouth shut, helping the driver inside with luggage after Chanta’s wake. His wife never simply walked anywhere. She had this stride where her hips swung ever so gently from side to side. He cast one warning glance at the driver who quickly averted his eyes and watched in earnest himself. Still as fine as the day he married her.
                “Now I know you are kidding!” Chanta had hung up the phone and was standing in the middle of the one-room cabin, mouth agape.
                There might have only been one room, other than the restroom, complete with a huge garden tub she had yet to see, but the space was huge. The California king bed, complete with a very nice, sturdy wrought iron headboard sat in one corner. There was a fireplace complete with bearskin rug and assorted pillows, a large overstuffed couch, and even a large kitchen area. Their meals would be delivered of course, but the kitchen was stocked with all sorts of gourmet snacks. It was perfect. No desk, no television, nothing to distract from the main point.
                Chanta.
                “I am not staying here.” Chanta pivoted on a heel, a move she had perfected recently, hands on her hips. “So you can take the luggage right back to the limo now.”
                Drew smiled. His first genuine smile in a while. He tipped the driver and saw him to the door.
                “Drew, did you understand what I just said to you?”
“Yeah, baby I heard you, but we aren’t going anywhere.”

End excerpt
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Enjoy!

 

Nicole Kurtz

Publisher

The gathering started today. Tribes from as far east as the Turtle eyes could see. The Gathering was a special meeting, to talk of wars and share tales of gandeur. Sometimes men found wives, and this year Kaali hoped love would find her. Kaali’s mother and father were killed in the last raid and she now had a house of her own. It felt strange walking inside and not seeing her parents there. Kaali was the only child who lived in the year of the yellow sores. She was the only child who didn’t get them, so it was believed she would be a healer. Kaali wanted nothing of hearing other’s tired stories of love lost and buried, money long forgotten. Her heart dreamed of wild seas and a strong lover at her side. At dawn, she witnessed a different ship pull into the harbor of Tirth. The carvings of naked women on the side set her curiosity ablaze. Leaving her spot on the grassy hill, she made her way down to the docks. Closer and closer to the water, the scent of salt water filled her nose. As the ship passed her and docked, she caught her first glimpse of the strangers.

She hid behind a row of barrels the first time she saw movement on the deck of the great ship. It had to be more than seven feet long. Walking about the ship, she saw all sorts of men wearing many different colored fabrics. Some even had what looked like fur capes draped on their shoulders. Hiding behind the hop-filled barrels, she marveled at the man-like creatures with green skin, especially the one with something resembling bones protruding in semi-circles from his face who caught her attention. He wore a heavy collar and Kaali knew he had to be a slave of some sort. Kaali looked back to where her grandmother’s hut stood. In the distance, she saw her grandmother standing and looking out at the coming ships. Her once jet-black hair, now as white as snow, hung lovingly on her hunched shoulders. Her grandmother Tar-na was the keeper of knowledge, and Tar-na was full of it. Kaali felt her grandmother’s eyes on her. The ship had all the gathering a buzz. Tar-na moved from the hill and drew closer. Kaali locked eyes with her grandmother, and from Tar-na’s expression, she knew she wasn’t meant to be there. Kaali was known for getting into trouble, not on purpose you see, it usually followed her. Maybe it was the way her brain worked, like her grandmother always told her.

She believed in the words of the people around her. If lies were to spill out of people’s mouths, then Kaali wished their tongues would have the same fate and fall out as well. Looking up again, she caught glimpse of several men starting to file off the ship and head right in her direction. Kaali instantly pressed her back against the filthy stone blocks and held her breath. The strong scent of urine and animal dung reeking from behind the barrels made her gag. She covered her mouth, not wanting to lose her breakfast on her feet. Not a sound did she make as they passed by her, their faded, fuzzy gray capes flew behind them like fabric wings. Their green slaves carried their wares. They had thicker blankets than her weaved one and shiny baubles boys would give to girls.

As the troupe passed, a young warrior stopped and stared at her. His strange blue eyes probed her doe brown eyes as she pleaded for him to keep her presence a secret.

“What’s there Sar’tac? Anything interesting?” a deep eerie voice bellowed.

“Nothing,” the young man called over his shoulder. “Move along then. I want to see their women dance around the fire. After we eat I wish to pluck a few out and let them feel what a North Man can do.” Hearing the line, all the men burst out in infectious, but lustful, laughter that made Kaali shiver.

With a slight nod, Sar’tac traveled forward. By the time Kaali made it back to Tar-na she could tell her grandmother was two seconds from angry. Kaali held up her hands. “First, let me explain.”

“Those are the northlanders. They live in the cold and rain, where the sun barely shines. They sell and trade people like cattle.” Tar-na spat on the ground. “Stay away from them, Kaali. They bring more than wares here believe you me. You know of the young one here called Fur?” Kaali nodded. “His mother was smitten by one of them. They used her, and then traded her for someone else. Someone from another tribe heard about her being missing and the girl’s family had to buy her back, and by that time she was full of child.” Kaali watched as the men set up their tents and began to mill around. The guards straightened their backs as they watched the strange Northers.

“Ow,” Kaali felt a hard tug on her long black hair. “What was that for, grandmother?” She asked, rubbing her scalp. “I see the way your mind works, child. There are good men here for you.” Kaali turned around. “Like who?” Tar-na rocked back on her haunches and thought. “What about Derk? He is a powerful man and a good hunter.”

“And he is as ugly as a rock fish.” Kaali folded her arms. Tar-na tried to hide her giggle. “That is very true. What about Jaguar Claw? He is both powerful and good looking. I have heard him ask about you.” Kaali shook her head. She turned to see Jaguar Claw surrounded by ladies, all of them touching his weapons and acting like giddy girls. Kaali cut her eyes away as soon as Jaguar caught her staring. He was good-looking but something in her soul told her he was not the one, at least not now. He loved the girl attention; he wasn’t so trustworthy. Again, Kaali stared at the Northers until she caught the eye of a certain boy and smiled.

To her utter surprise, he smiled back. He had a beautiful smile.

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Welcome!

Welcome to the official blog home for Mocha Memoirs Press! We’re finally ready to launch and extremely excited for you to have you here!

Over the course of the next several months as Mocha Memoirs Press continues to expand it’s boundaries and become more known around the world we are excited to share things with you each step of the way! Join us here as we bring you exclusive content from the authors, news on special contests, and schedules on when you can expect the latest and greatest from Mocha Memoirs Press! I don’t know about you all, but that sure gets me pumped up!

To kick off our official opening let me share a bit of information with you from our prestigous owner…

Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC is a new electronic publishing company that seeks to add new flavors to the realms of speculative fiction and romance. We’re actively seeking submissions to add to our catalog. We’re inviting authors to submit works of 8k to 30k for possible publication in our catalog. Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC wants to see titles that include excellent writing, superior storytelling, and fantastic creativity. We want our readers to lose themselves in the worlds the authors have created, and to care about the characters populating those worlds. Moreover, we’d like to see ethnic diversity in stories as well.

We’re currently looking for titles in the following genres: horror, science fiction, fantasy, and romance. We’re most excited about seeing stories in the subgenres of cyberpunk, steampunk, near-future sf, and space opera.

We do publish paranormal romance, science fiction romance, fantasy romance, and dark fantasy romance. We’d like to see submissions in these areas as well. Our interracial romance titles have been very successful, so feel free submit those also.

Special Call for Sizzling Steampunk Stories!

Mocha Memoirs Press is seeking submissions for our latest erotic romance series titled, Sizzling Steampunk Stories. Just like our other stories, we’d like to see ethnic diversity in these stories. The stories must have a Happy Ever After or Happy For Now ending and fall into the erotic steampunk romance genre. Read Valjeanne Jeffer’s THE SWITCH for an idea of what we like to see.

Please keep in mind that although a new company, we’re by no means accepting every submission or submissions that are poorly edited, offensive, crude, or sloppy. Please only submit your absolute best work. As a publisher, we’ll make sure you get the best from us in return. We have over 12 years of electronic publishing experience; so please don’t submit low quality or unprofessional work.

To submit your work to us, send a cover letter and your completed novel or short story to mochamemoirpress@gmail.com.

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