A Dollop of Sweet with a Dash of Spice: Into the Mind of a Romance Author

Put it here.

Tuck it there.

Assorted parts are thrust, screwed and banged into place.

Screaming, hair pulling, tweaking and if everything works out, you’ve got a big ol’ smile on your face.

No, I’m not talking car mechanics, or your latest do-it-yourself project. I’m talking about sex. More specifically, the way it’s written.

Have you ever come across an intimate scene that left you scratching your head, wondering how the main characters seem to have all of a sudden become athletes in the Sex Olympics?

I bet even the best of contortionists or world class gymnasts wouldn’t be able to replicate some of those moves!

In my case, becoming an erotic romance writer happened purely by accident.

Here I was, writing some new romantic thriller when the idea struck. Why not break a few personal writing boundaries? I knew I had a knack for writing romance, so I thought, “How hard can it be?” RIGGGHHHHT!

Today, when I look back at the journey that’s brought me to publishing The Broken Men Chronicles series, this is what comes to mind:

  • The way I blushed fifty shades of red as I wrote those first sex scenes. Hell, let me be honest here, I still blush, particularly when I come up with something outrageous!
  • Second, how many times I would rewrite said scenes to get them ‘just’ right. I never guessed that the most basic sexual encounter could turn out so hot! That’s also when I realized where a lot of authors, who toy with erotic writing, go wrong…

Sex doesn’t need to be all acrobatics and mechanics to be good. It’s nice to write a shower scene that’s a little over the top, sure—I myself am guilty of doing it a time or ten—but if the words flow, the emotions show, you don’t need all those fancy death-defying positions and a minute account to make your readers feel like the proverbial fly on the wall.

The third is that there is such a thing as too much sex. Build the story and add some spice. A novel can contain a lot more than the average two to three scenes in it without coming off as crass. It really can be a beautiful piece of art if orchestrated in the right way.

All in all, my foray into erotic-styled writing has definitely led me down a path I never expected. Suffice to say, it’s not for everyone. Am I happy with my achievements, of course! Do I plan to write more erotic romances? You bet! Will I still be blushing by the time I reach a dozen erotic-themed novels? You’re damn right I will be, but I’ll still be putting them out! (pun intended) 😀

In closing, for those of you reading this post, I hope that you’ve laughed, been educated and gotten curious as to the inner workings of this particular erotic romance author’s mind.

Night Shift-Cover Reveal

Night Shift Twitter

With Night Shift due out on January 9th, I figured I could give you lovely readers a little bit more than a simple teaser and cover reveal.

Here’s an excerpt to feast your eyes and growing curiosity on!


“What are you doing here?” The tension around me palpable, she hurried aside to let me enter before closing the door behind us.

My blood boiled.

My skin crawled that she’d let him do that to her.

I had to get rid of it.

The taint.

Purify her.

“What have you done? You’re mine, Evie. I told you, when I came back, you’d be mine and now look at yourself.” Disgust was as clear in my voice as it was in my expression.

“Wh-whatever it is…we can talk this out,” she stuttered, her feet inching her backward as I followed her movements.

Reaching to the small of my back, my fingers wrapped around the grip as I pulled it from its sheath. The eight-inch blade caught the glint of the afternoon sun, mesmerizing me, causing me to admire the play of light against it before I focused on the woman before me.

Her eyes shone with terror. “You don’t…” She shook her head left to right, swallowing hard, stumbling against the side table next to the sofa. “You don’t have to do this.” She righted herself. “We can still be together. Now that…now that you’re back–”

I shot her an incredulous look. Did she think me a fool? “You’ve gone and done the unthinkable. You had his child!” I hollered, my knuckles gripping the knife tightly. “This is the only way…the only way to get rid of the stain.”

Her steps froze momentarily. “Stain?”

“It’s what I should have done a while ago,” I spat, cornering her as her steps were halted by the wall at her back. “What you took from me…what should have been mine,” I raged, “is what I’ll take from you.”

One moment my eyes darted toward the hallway where I knew the devil lay in slumber, and the next, Eva Peters was making a mad rush toward the door that separated me from saving us all.

“No!” she panted. “You’re crazy!”

If she only knew. “Move, Evie,” I growled, “it’s the only way.”

“She’s not here. Please!” Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking with fear.

Using the tip of the blade, I ran it over her soaked cheek, the metal sharp enough to catch on her ivory skin, causing a streak of blood to suddenly materialize.

I felt lighter instantly.


In control. A feeling I hadn’t had in quite some time.

Manning my knife, I proceeded to run the tip of it down to her bottom lip, nicking it just enough for another bubble of her essence to form.

“Mmm…” I groaned, leaning forward to press my front against hers, taking the time to lick her damaged lip, then whispered my new realization while rubbing my impossibly hard cock against her stomach. “I was wrong. This…” I ran my finger through the blood on her cheek, watching its movement, “is what I need, Evie.”

The sadness was overwhelming as I stared at the beauty laying limp and lifeless beneath me.

The rage I’d felt had all but dissipated with each slice of my blade through her flesh. Like a hot knife through butter, each time blood began to pour out, a weight lifted within me.

What once held pleading in her eyes, was now long gone.

She was nothing but a piece of art, trussed up by her silk scarves, a vessel conveying my message.

I’d be back… 

Chapter 1


Eight Years Later

The moment I walked over the threshold, I knew a clusterfuck of epic proportion awaited me.

Blood was everywhere. Spatter by the front door, smears over the walls, and droplets leading to where I knew the victim would ultimately be laying in a pool of her life’s essence.

Forensics was going to have a field day with this one.

Just like with the other fifteen.

Donning the protective gear the lead officer had ordered me to change into before entering the scene, I made my way toward the back of the house.

Carefully avoiding one evidence marker after another, I entered the master bedroom. The grizzly sight of Victoria Spark’s mutilated body, lying face up on the bed, greeted me. The standard ligatures on her wrists and ankles proved that she’d been restrained and alive through most of her torture; the killer leaving her to die in excruciating pain from her wounds and ultimately, blood loss.

The scent of copper on the air thickened as I made my final approach, slipping my hands into a pair of plastic gloves. I was looking for something I knew was meant for me.

Setting my evidence kit down beside the bed, I bent toward the body in search of my next clue.

The sickening crack of the victim’s jaw set my stomach to roiling as I pulled her mouth open, locating the three pieces I had come to expect after so many years of chasing this perp. Letting go of the victim, I grasped my digital camera and photographed my findings. Setting the camera down, I whipped out the small evidence bag from my kit and opened it, manning my tweezers.

Fishing the objects out one by one, I dropped them in the bag, then photographed them again. Fragments of a photograph were what this sicko leaves. Camera in hand, I shot a few frames of the room, as well as the rest of the premises. The team would have their own photos, but I liked being thorough with my investigations, thus preferred gathering my own shots, comparing them with the others’.

Closing up my kit, I stood to take my leave.

Fucking sadistic bastard and his games.

It pissed me off that he was always one step ahead of me.

Thinking on those tiny pieces—the unknown subject, or unsub’s calling card—I was confused more than ever as to why he was leaving them at every scene. The letter I’d received at the precinct, a week after the first murder, had eluded that they were all part of some demented countdown…a puzzle of sorts. One thing was clear however, the perp was after me, and after sixteen murders, I still wasn’t any closer to finding this guy.

In my career as a detective, I’ve come across a lot of questionable characters. I’ve done my fair share of arresting the dregs of society and making enemies along the way. You can’t be a cop without that happening.

“I take it that Rosie is in for another disappointing birthday dinner?” Will asked, coming to a stop at my side as I exited the victim’s home.

For the last seven years, it had been the same fucking story. That in itself was enough to confirm that the unsub was gunning for me. That, and the fact that he’d started this spree of his claiming none other than my wife as his first victim.

My only problem was, my list of suspects had next to nothing. This perp was meticulously careful. Treating his kills like artwork: from the placement of limbs, to the blood spatter surrounding the victims…even those fucking pieces.

“I hate going back on my promise,” I growled. “She’s going to be pissed.”

“I know it’s your case, Shane, but I’m your partner,” Will said. “Take a few hours, go to her, then come back if you have to.”

I nodded. “I have what I need right now. You sure you can handle everything without me?”

He patted me on the back as I straightened from the body and backed away. “I’ll call if something comes up.”

Thanking him, I handed him my evidence bag, then made to leave the scene, my camera and evidence kit in tow.

Caught up in my own memories, I drove home on autopilot, scenes from eight years ago playing in my head.

The same black hair. The same look of terror in her open eyes.

Eva had been bound too.

And cut up.

Blood. God! There’d been so much blood everywhere.

I’d been the one to find her. I hated to think what would have been had my Rosie been there that day.

“Daddy!” was squealed, knocking me out of my grizzly thoughts.

Opening the car door and letting myself out, I caught her as she launched herself into my arms.

My princess.

The light of my life.
Night Shift Full

Available for preorder
Amazon | B&N

Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple | Google | Smashwords

Join the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card!

Carey Decevito

Cover Reveal!

Night Break the first in the Nightshade series, Night Break is finally here!

She’d give anything to be what he needs.

He wishes she would see what he does when he looks at her.

On the eve of a new mission, Dalton Kippers gets the surprise of his life when the cyber angel he’s been in pursuit of, shows up out of nowhere.

A threat to his life, Devolin Taylor rushes to Dalton’s rescue to share the information she’d dug up. After all, his accepting the case had been her fault in the first place.

Persuaded by Dalton’s implicit trust in her abilities, Devolin joins his taskforce at Nightshade Securities. Only, working in close proximity to the man seems to be a detriment to both their sanity. Anything less than an arm’s length and her brain short-circuits just long enough for trouble to lurk. And when that trouble comes knocking, it might be too late for them to get over their hang-ups and embrace the blistering chemistry they share.

Preorder your copy today!

Kindle ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ Nook ~ Smashwords


Sunday Snippets…Where the Sexy, Comedy & Emotions Reside

Seeing as Once Written, Twice Shy is being featured on The Fussy Librarian today, I figured a little teasing was in order.  Here are some of my favorite snippets from the book.

Drama, drama, drama…ex’s that just can’t let go

I waited for Alissa to disappear outside.

“She’ll ruin us, Paxton,” Julie said.

“You’ve done enough of that all on your own, Julie,” I said.  “Alissa’s right, I’m sick of being stuck as I watch you move on with your life and I can’t do the same.  It’s been a year since you’ve left, Julie.  A goddamn year!”

“How long have you two known each other?”

“You sound as if I’ve betrayed you somehow.  Last I checked, I wasn’t the one who ran around or the one that gave up without a fight,” I said.

Friends…with benefits or something more?

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Alissa,” I said against her skin as I trailed hot, wet kisses down her jaw.  Her head tilted back and I moved down her neck.  “We’re not friends with benefits and you know it.”  I pulled away to gauge her reaction.  Her lips were swollen and pursed, and those gorgeous breasts of hers rose and fell at a more frantic rhythm.  I smirked.  “I believe the word you used yesterday was girlfriend?”

“About that,” she said and bit down on her bottom lip.

“Shh.”  I reached up and trailed my thumb, releasing the soft flesh from her pearly whites.

There might just be more than food when you’re cookin’ things up

I grabbed her hips, turned us so her rear faced the kitchen island and backed her up until she was barricaded between my arms.  Her arms bent at the elbows as she used her forearms to pull my head closer to her face while she devoured my mouth.  My hands rubbed down her sides until I had reached the hem of her dress.  I began to hoist the garment up and around her hips, and squeezed her tight ass.

She gasped at my roughness and I pulled away long enough to see the surprised look on her face which faded into pure animalistic lust.  Sitting her on the counter’s edge, I kissed her hard and fierce, supporting the back of her neck as I lay her down on its surface.

Now this is a buffet.

Pancake dates…the stuff tiny love is made of

I was coming back with coffee for Allie and me when I heard her voice.  She was talking to Jasper and so I leaned onto the room’s threshold and kept vigil on the pair.

“…so Jasper, honey, I need you to wake up for me,” she said.  “Mommy and Daddy would like to see those beautiful bright green eyes of yours.  We miss you and that smile, sweetie.  What about our pancake dates?”  Her voice cracked, sending a jolt of pain to my heart.  “I need someone to pour those blueberries for me.  And who else would help me make a big mess?”  She began to sob softly into the edge of the mattress.  “We all need you, Jasper.”

A hero comes along in an unexpected way

I sat down, laid my hand on her thigh and let my head fall to the side of the mattress as I breathed my relief that she was okay.  “I can’t believe you’ve done this,” I said to the silence.

“I would do it again,” she said with a croaky voice before I felt her hand tangle itself in my messy hair.  “Now kiss me like you did before they took me away.”

I smiled at her loopy smirk and what else could I do?  I indulged her.  Hell, it was quite possible that she had saved my son’s life.

The Fussy Librarian

Have you ever wished that personalized book recommendations could be made, that your search for your next great read was easier and didn’t involve you perusing through hundreds upon hundreds of books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and the like?  As not just a writer but an avid reader, I must say that The Fussy Librarian has definitely become an asset for me personally as well as for a few friends over the last few months.

All it takes is an email, a few seconds to select your preferences and you get daily emails where you can peruse, purchase or dismiss your personalized e-book recommendations!  You choose from 32 genres and indicate preferences about content and then the computers work their magic.  It’s pretty cool and I’ve found some pretty great reads at pretty great prices by using it too!

With that said, Once Written, Twice Shy is being featured on Sunday, November 10th, at TFL.  Check out The Fussy Librarian here!