Excerpt from www.LoveBelvin.com

“And this works best with your current schedule?”

His eyes ballooned as he exhaled. “Yeah. I’m flexible. I’m gonna make time!”

I didn’t hide my grin at his enthusiasm as I tapped into the calendar app of my iPad.

“That’s cool. I’ll run a few of your dates against hers and arrange for joint sessions, too,” I mumbled into my lap, tapping away.

“Is…she as flexible as I am?”

I lifted from my device. The muscles in Trent’s face were relaxed, but his eyes told me all I needed to know; it would be an easy fix for these two.

“Yeah.” I laughed. “Very flex—”

My words were halted by the ruckus of my office door being swung open. In stepped a tall bearded man dressed in a three-piece wool suit.

Ezra?

Trent jumped to his feet, startled just as I was.

“She’s gone,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

I sat back in my chair, taken by his nerve. But I can’t say I was surprised by his abruptness. He’d come early to today’s session.

“I know,” was my simple reply.

“You said, we’d work. You guaranteed—”

“I’m with a client, Ezra. You can’t just come into my office, throwing your issues on the wrong plate.” I gestured to Trent.

“Oh, nah.” Trent’s eyes bounced between the two of us. “It’s gravy. Love, we’ll be in touch.” He tossed me a quick wave. “Ezra, see you Thursday, man.”

Ezra’s eyes fell, hopefully in embarrassment. Trent was his parishioner!

His hand extended, and Trent accepted it in a shake. When the door closed, I cocked my head to the side.

“Nice job, Pastor.”Me In a Therapy Session

“Oh, I gave you that client,” Ezra quickly returned.

“No. You referred a client that pushed back several for me to take on right away. And this is how you conduct yourself in front of the two of us. Where’s the respect?”

“I am going through a dark affair in my life. He would understand if he knew. She left me!”

I lifted and drop my shoulders, glancing away. “You’re in the valley. It’s a part of the marriage journey. Get used to it. Just don’t set up shop there.”

“What’s the use of having you if this could be possible?” His brows met at that jab. Then his open hands flew in the air. “Look. I understood full well at the beginning of this venture, you didn’t hold the formal qualifications of a therapist, but I’d also researched you, and spoke extensively with your relatives.”

I rolled my eyes. “First of all, have a seat while you’re speaking to me.”

His neck retracted just slightly, and one brow peaked. “Pardon me?”

“You heard what I said. Ezra, I respect you…actually like you a lot, but the moment you come into my place, throwing around your imposing weight, that could all come to an end. I’m overseer here. I’m boss here. I’m leader in this place. You are a client, needing my services. Do you get where this is going?”

“I could have gone to someone else, Love. Someone who would have at least worked it so she would not have left,” he threatened.

I sat up in my seat. “I have countless peers on the shelves next to me. Not one would care to take on your story. None could have gotten this far with you, and none have my talent to manage you.”

“That’s mighty arrogant of you.” He scoffed, coolly. “I wholly disagree.”

“Ezra, don’t fool yourself. My specialty is broken people, bringing them to a place where they can experience healthy, long-lasting romantic love. You’re kidding yourself if you think many of my contemporaries would be prepared to take you on. Many of them do the cutesy couples with minor flaws that makes for a plot, and have them live happily ever after. I take on the impossibly companionable, and work on their internal individual issues many would deem irrevocable.”

He leaned down toward me, still standing, and I could smell his fragranced beard. “You clearly didn’t do a good job with Alexis.”

I cocked my head to the side again. “Who said Alexis was the broken one of the two?”

We locked eyes. Ezra slowly stood straight, and I didn’t miss when his lips parted in sheer astonishment. That’s when I found myself in Lex’s shoes: eye warring with a warrior. The beast. Ezra was, without effort, intimidating. His presence alone had a heavy weight, an air of power and fearless leadership. And while I believed he possessed a high level of knowledge, wisdom had not always been present for him.

“So, I’m broken?” his rasp held a tone of humility.

If I was not mistaken, Ezra had momentarily put down his weapons. If he could only remove the armor, too. I was not in the business of attacking people, no matter how weak their seemingly tough veneers.

“You need lots of work, but the one thing you have working for you is I ‘get’ you. You’re not an overnight success. When I agreed to this, I knew it wouldn’t be a short bubblegum love story. I don’t do those. I believe in you, but you have to kill some things in yourself to make this thing work.”

“Things like what? What do you ‘get’?”

My eyes skirted around the room. I stood to get a box that was used to ship a pair of shoes I’d recently ordered. I brought it over to the coffee table.

“This box encompasses your life. It represents the barriers between you and the world—the world being everything that doesn’t affect the core of you. Inside this box are all the things that matter to you…the only things you cherish in life.”

I gave a nod to confirm he was following me.

“Okay…” His response told of his stubbornness, but I knew he was following.

“Inside the box,” I pointed, “is Ezra and God.” I gave a brief pause for digesting.

“Outside of the box?” I was surprised he asked.

“…is Lex and everything and everybody else. I’m out there, too.”

Slowly, Ezra straightened his spine, backed up, and collapsed on the sofa across from me, on the other side of the table.

“Do you get where this is going? Ezra, your wife is in the same category as your cleaner’s guy, mechanic, your dentist, and me, a virtual stranger to you. Nothing or no one else is inside this box, not even your parents. Marriage doesn’t work this way. She needs to be in here with you. She’s your partner, not a tool sent for your one-sided pleasure.”

“One-sided? I am no savage,” he murmured.

“I don’t believe you are.”

“Your readers do.” His fingers yanked through his thick beard in a combing manner. His eyes were in the corner of the room.

“My real ones, the ones that trust me to be the author and don’t try to co-write my stories know I wouldn’t have taken you on if you were not good at the core and redeemable.” He finally looked at me. “I can work with you.”

“I just don’t like the way I’m being perceived.”

Another client reading my reviews while under my care.

I shook my head, dismissing his anxiety. “Ezra, we’re privileged to even be privy to your personal life. Your marriage is sacred: the details that get you to your custom-made happily ever after are a personal matter.”

He scoffed. “And that’s it. It doesn’t matter that I’m being dragged through the mud like some caveman?”

“I’m there with you as the author. I’d say your story resonates. The few who have callous things to say are those who choose to pry, is how I see it. My stripes haven’t changed. This will be our tenth book, and I’m writing the same length, in the same fashion. It’s safe to say I’m established. If they don’t like what I present, they can stop reading. Bottom line.”

Ezra sat up, exhaled his frustration, and rubbed his palms into his face.

“Ezra, you have to trust me. I master journeys of this nature. Go through the darkness of process. It’s going to hurt, but if you want it, let go of those things keeping you from giving her what she needs. Once you achieve that, you’ll see brighter days. I promise.”

“Okay.” He sighed again, flashing his palms that gestured his compliance.

“And please stop reading my reviews. It’ll impede your journey. I promise you, I don’t lose a night of sleep over them. Either I’m for you, or I’m not. If I’m not, get off my boat. The same can be said for your marriage. Either you want to meet Lex half way, or you don’t. If you don’t, release her so she can find someone who will account for her wellbeing. Just like my readers, the choice is yours, sir.”

Ezra’s head swung up, his nose scrunched in disgust. I tossed my head back and cracked up.

“See! That doesn’t even have the same appeal as when she says it.” I tried calming myself.

“Let me assure you, no one has the same appeal as that woman, Love.”

“Good. Great start!” I glanced at the clock. “We’re still twenty minutes or so ahead of your appointment, but let’s get started.”

“It is well,” he agreed, sitting back on the couch.~

Bonded with Ezra coming April 15th

Bonded with Ezra Excerpt Released!

It’s officially promo roll-out season for #TeamLove.

Here’s the first teaser for Bonded with Ezra.

You Belong to Me

You can find an excerpt on my website. Come back here and share your thoughts. And before you ask: SOON! You should know by now we don’t start promo season unless the release is around the corner. Lend me your patience. I’m almost done.

Oh, and remember, all teasers and excerpts are released on the website before social media. So check the site for updates. You can find the excerpt here.

Can’t wait for your comments!

#PenningWithoutParameters

#ImGonnaMakeYouLoveMe

http://www.LoveBelvin.com

Excerpt from L.I.T.

from www.LoveBelvin.com where you get updates first.

Excerpt of L.I.T….

 

~A little over an hour later, at the large kitchen nook that fit at least ten, where we all piled in with lingering banter, the official meeting was over, but no one immediately left. I wondered where Candice was. She’d texted me when I was on the West Coast, but ended the conversation once I told her where I was. All these days I wondered if that was a call for help. I figured I’d stick around for a while to see if I ran into her.

What I hadn’t counted on was the topic of conversation amongst my younger colleagues. I could tell when Jamie took over as host that things would turn inappropriate before long. Well, that inkling was long ago.

“If you could describe sex with your ex using a song, what would it be?” Jamie asked with mischief in his naturally slanted eyes. “Mine would be Boyz II Men’s “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday.””

“That’s creepy! Why that song?” Bridgette asked aghast.

Jamie turned to her with a smirk playing at one corner of his lips and retorted, “Because I cheated on her with my ex before her. I couldn’t say goodbye to that old snatch.”

The table went up in a roar—well, everyone with the exception of Jackson and me. I stifled my laughter, refusing to fuel his foolishness.

“Mine would be “Love Song” by Sara Bareillis. He was such a jerk, and my family wanted us to fall in love, get married and have babies. He didn’t want me, he only wanted the image of perfection as he pursued his political career. I was young, only nineteen years old. He couldn’t even fuck. I would’ve worked with him, if he hadn’t lacked that one crucial quality. He told me I was slightly overweight. I eventually told him to fuck off. After the first time we fucked, he asked me to write him a letter to describe it.” Bridgette flipped the bird in the wake of his memory.

Because I sat next to Bridgette, all eyes went to me. I felt my tongue go heavy. There was no way I could ask for a waiver. Up until this moment, everyone else had shared personal factoids and I’d be considered rude if I didn’t answer this one stupid question of this ridiculously childish game Jamie started.

“Springsteen’s “Sad Eyes”,” I murmured, surprising myself with my honest disclosure.

I felt Jackson’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I fought for my apathetic mask, then turned to him and widened my eyes. He sat in the same position, with his shoulder against the wall and his hand cupping his chin. Only this time, his penetrative eyes were on me.

“What? Your turn, chief,” I goaded.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed as if he was messaging that he didn’t appreciate my audacity. I wouldn’t break my gaze on him. If I had to participate in the asinine game, so did he. It seemed like an eternity passed before he spoke as he sat upright in his chair and took a deep breath, a lungful exhale that appealed to me, ridiculously.

““Piece of My Love”…Guy,” Jackson uttered before his lips twitched up into a smirk, one that was suave, practiced—well beyond his twenty-six years.

I would hear the song on WBLS and Kiss FM before the station went defunct. The group, Guy, was a part of the New Jack Swing Era. That style of music was invented even before my prime, leaving me to wonder how it was that Jackson was familiar with it. Aside from the complexion of his dark spirit, Jackson had such an old soul.

Jamie cranked out the first two bars from the popular ‘90s tune, causing the table to break out in laughter. Marie chose Tina Turner’s “A Woman in a Man’s World,” a melancholy and archaic selection. Brad and Tim gave tracks from Tim McGraw and Pearl Jam, respectively.

The conversation grew more personal, specifically more sexual. We found ourselves on the topic of orgasms. Bridgette, who’s in a committed relationship, shared how she was madly in love with her fiancé of thirteen months, but despite their deep feelings for each other and shared passion, she’d been unable to achieve an orgasm.

At the mention of that, I took to the bar in the formal living room for a refill on wine. That topic was way too intense considering I was in the presence of the man who supplied several just a few weeks ago, something that was a rare occurrence for me. Like…extremely exceptional. I took my time, hoping to wait out the time until the conversation switched topics. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the time.

“According to some studies, only thirty-five percent of the female population will orgasm during penetration alone. Even more alarming, fifteen percent never orgasm at all!” Bridgette exclaimed.

“Wow,” Jamie breathed out with heavy eyes, clearly fighting intoxication. “That’s fucked up.”

“I had a girl that I tried all types of shit on…even went down on her for nearly thirty minutes. She screamed her head off, but never came. Then I had one, an older woman whose tits I sucked for minutes and she came out of her shoes. This explains it,” Tim murmured his revelation.

“Well, some studies report one out of three women orgasm regularly, and seventy-five percent of all women never reach one from penetration alone. They need other stimulation, like toys, hands or tongue,” Bridgette continued with her report-like statistics.

“That would be me. I’ve never…errrm…” Marie swiped her neck, expressing modesty. “…orgasmed from just penetration.” Her eyes circled nervously, and I knew it was because a recent lover was sitting at this very table, participating in this conversation, unbeknownst to most. “Some guys I’ve been with are cool with toys. They work for me…in addition to…errrm…hands and tongue.”

“So,” Brad piped out. “If the stat is one in three, then we have one unsuccessful party,” he pointed to Bridgette. “…two unsuccessful party,” he pointed to Marie. Then his index finger made its way to me. Fuck no! “…and three…is the charm?” A smile curved on his lips.

I turned to see all eyes on me again. My better judgment told me not to look over to Jackson, but my brain and body coordination was limited due to the excessive alcohol intake. And damn it if when I did, my clitoris pulsated the moment my eyes landed on him. Jackson knew I’d had three orgasms that night at the hotel with him. He knew this because I was so vocal; so vocal that it propelled one of his that night. I tried to turn from Jackson’s gaze. His usual ember eyes were dark, when he rolled and popped his neck. Did anyone else see that?

I sighed, “Ladies, I’m not a regular either. I’m a hardly.”

“Ah!” Bridgette slapped the table, excitedly, but not in a happy manner; in a frustrated one instead.

“So, how recent was your last? Let’s make this all sensible,” Tim pushed.

“Ummm…not too long ago,” I answered, regrettably.

I knew Jackson was getting his rocks off, but something in me didn’t mind sharing with this group. This wasn’t voyeurism. It was simple information sharing and education. But why was I feeling so goddamned aroused?

“Wait…how many times before this last encounter?” Bridgette asked.

Fuckity-fuck! This is spinning way out of control now!

This time I didn’t look Jackson’s way. I couldn’t. There was too much heat coming from that direction. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I had to decide how I would handle this question. Honesty would give power to said lover, who had clearly expressed the desire to enter into a romping agreement. This agreement would have to be kept from the very people sitting at this table. But their inquisition was so harmless. This was my team. They were so happy for my acquiring the Erika Erceg account.

Fuck it…

“Once…years ago…many moons ago,” I damn near whispered. “Like junior high with a twenty-something-year-old college teaching assistant, who was assigned to the community college in my area, and was very passionate about life, and that included fucking.”

“Damn,” Jamie chimed in. “Either that dude had great fucking skills or—”

“You two had extraordinary chemistry.” That was supplied by Jackson.

When my eyes traveled over to him, he was leaving the table with his glass in hand.~

“Love’s Inconvenient Truth” coming April 1st!

#ImGonnaMakeYouLoveMe