So, I should probably blog more this year...

A New Year's Resolution I'll try to keep!

Good morning world! Like many of you on this fine, frozen morning, I am snowed in and trying to keep warm! Winter Storm Ion has given me plenty of time to think about my New Year's resolutions or lack thereof.  I don't usually make them, because, let's face it, not many of us keep them, but this year I'm going to try to blog more! To make up for my lack of it in 2013, I've decided to share a scene from TAKING SOMETHING out February 18th!  And don't forget to look for the cover  January 9th on an internet near you!

If you haven't read GIVE ME SOMETHING, you might want to avert your eyes and your browser on over to Amazon or B&N  to pick up a copy while it's on-sale for $0.99.  It's the Deluxe Edition which means more heat, more love and more Tucker Kline!

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Amazon

B & N

An EXCLUSIVE Sneak Peek at Taking Something...

“You want to be alone?” A voice called out. I quickly turned on my heels and saw the person holding the keys to the studio. Sadie. Her long auburn hair hung straight down past her shoulders with an embellished headband across the top of head. Her usually bare legs were covered by a pair of tight jeans, tucked into black riding boots. I could see the lacy black tank she was wearing, under a practically see-thru green top, hugged her tits perfectly. My cock noticed too.

“Maybe with you.” I gave her a devilish grin. She was fucking hot. Like needed to-be-fucking-me hot.

“Wouldn't that be fun,” She replied, never missing a beat as she took a step toward me.

“Could be,” I flirted back. “Very fun.”

“How about you prove to me that your not a complete tool on the mixing board first?” She laughed.

“Oh, you mean you didn't come by just to see me?” I asked, holding my hand over my heart and acting as if she'd broken it. I was supposed to get one day alone in the studio to set up the track list for recording. I should have known better than to think I'd actually get to be alone. I knew why she was there. She thought I was amateur. I was about to prove her wrong in more ways than one.

“Nope. I came by to see what kind of producer Hollace hired me. I don't want to sound like a bitch, but I Googled you. You have no experience. I need someone who knows what the hell they are doing. This record has to be perfect. I not sure that you're qualified for this job.”

So much for not sounding like a bitch.

“Look, I totally get your reservations about me,” I agreed, even though I knew I was more than qualified to produce an album for her. It was cookie cutter pop music. Anyone with half a brain could do it. “I may not have much experience with actual singers, but I've been mixing music since I was a kid. I promise you you'll be happy.”

“You're just a DJ Nick and no offense, but that is not the same as a music producer.”

“You're right. Spinning records is about playing to a crowd. Finding that perfect rhythm for any circumstance. Sometimes they want a carefree club mix to dance around to, other times they want a slow, sensual song to grind up on someone to. I know how to read people and that's beneficial in both cases. I'm a people pleaser, but I'm also an artist.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one I can read you. I know that you want people to hear a new side of you. To hear the grown up version of Sadie Sinclair.”

“That's not reading me, Nick. I told you that yesterday,” she replied.

“Yes, you did,” I chuckled. “But it's not always about what you say. I can tell by the way you walk—the commanding click of your heels across the floor and the sway of your tight little ass. You want to sing the kind of music that causes a stir. You're tired of singing songs about people falling in love. You want to sing songs about people making love. About passion and desire. About longing and fulfillment.” Her eyes glazed over as she stared into mine. Her lips parted as she let out a slow, steady breath. I walked up to her and reached out, brushing my hand down her arm. “You want to sing songs that get under peoples skin. Leaves them wanting more. You want to seduce them.”

“I do,” she answered mindlessly, watching my hand stroke up and down her arm.

“You don't want to just sing songs. You want to sing... sex.”