Showing posts with label Mahalia Levey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mahalia Levey. Show all posts

Thursday, December 6, 2012

It’s a Pre Release Party!

Coming December 12, 2012  from Decadent Publishing!


By Mahalia Levey
Satin and Steel Releases December 12th from Decadent Publishing. I’m really excited about my upcoming release. Writing Amara’s story was such a joy. I’m also excited because it’s my first f/f/m story and paranormal to boot! There is something sexy about two women and a strong man becoming a trio, add in the rest of the pack, demons and a villain and you have a bang up story. 
In anticipation of my release,  we’ll be giving a copy away to a random winner and a small bubble envelope of swag! Make sure to comment and leave your email address.  Tell me what you love about paranormal ménages and a trio consisting of f/f/m, if you haven’t read f/f/m you’re in for a treat!

Blurb:
 Amaranta knows well the painful burn of inadequacy. Not being quite good enough for those she loves. Until her path changes in irrevocable ways. Kanima calls to her, death surrounds her as she grows into her craft. Hating the enforcer side of her she has no choice but to accept, she buckles down endeavoring to become the best of the best. She finds she hunts best alone, fending off all orders to hunt with a partner. Until the day her most valued treasure is taken from her. Amaranta must not only accept the help of others but find the strength within to face her greatest fear. The solution waits for her on a silver platter. All she has to do is grasp what’s readily in front of her.

Excerpt:
Amara leveled her gaze on Gavin. Feeling a slight blush stain her face, she broke eye contact to quell the inner turmoil raging through her. She wondered where the soft-spoken voice came from, and why she suddenly had this blatant need for reassurance from Gavin. Snap out of it now! her conscience yelled at her. Great. The next time she saw a cricket, she’d stomp on it and revel in the sound of squashing a bug under her booted foot.
“You’re being for real?” Mari’s jaw had dropped open.
“Shh. It seems you’re my strength and weakness. Don’t let it out past this room, though. You’d ruin my reputation as an ice-blooded killer masked by my good charms and sweet personality.”
“Bullshit.” Gavin coughed the word behind his hand. He abandoned his post at the archway and moved toward them. Amara watched him with detached interest. Mari flicked a gaze between them and nudged her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Amara jumped so fast at her words their heads collided.
“That fucking hurt. You have a head made of steel, Amara.”
“Damn it. Baby, I’m sorry. You surprised me. I can’t believe you think I’m interested in him,” she hissed low, offended by the accusation.
“You’re acting funny. Really odd. I’ve never seen you behave this way.”
“Drop it, sexy. I don’t want dick.”
“Keep on lying to yourself,” Mari volleyed back. Amara barely heard the last few words out of her lover’s mouth.
“Marisol.” Amara growled. “Drop it now.” Damn crazy woman goaded her into anger. Seeing the red haze begin to cloud her vision, she took a few calming breaths to shove her jaguar back in place.
“Ladies?” Gavin moved to come between them.
“Back off, mongrel.” Amara turned her body to the side, shoving Gavin with all her strength away from them. The bulk of his large frame crashed into the wall, knocking knick-knacks onto the floor. Draven and Theron both rose, she assumed to intervene.
“Kitten, sheath your fucking claws.” He extricated himself from the raining sheetrock and paint to stalk over to her. Rage sparkled in his eyes. He reminded her of a Berserker. Not good. Her calculations told her she could take him and win. The accuracy of such thoughts, when balanced against her ego, said otherwise. “No, you didn’t just call me some ridiculous, endearing term. We’re fighting right now. Stupid dog.”
“Oh, shit.” Mari squeaked and slid from her arms to Draven’s. Amara’s jaw dropped open. Her girlfriend wasn’t going to rub her back and calm her down. Instead, she took a front row seat. Heat suffused Amara’s face. By the look of things, the lapdog brothers of his stayed back, intent to watch, not interfere. In a dark alley on an equally eclipsed night, she’d find herself worried to go up against him. He drew his body larger with every step he took toward her. Amara quaked in her boots, not from fear but from the new awareness sparking within her. A feeling she didn’t like one bit.
Her heartbeat danced a new cadence as she fought between darting away and standing her ground. So what? A little plaster is good for a person. She curbed her rampant thought.
“We don’t have time for this. There’s a madman loose. I must hunt.” Hackles raised, she backed up a step for each one he took closer to her personal space. Gavin could easily reach out and shake her like a rag doll but apparently chose not to. She had no idea what his aim was or how to strategize a way out of venting his anger. Her gaze honed in on the growing bulge in his pants. When he turned from her and walked over to Marisol, she sucked in a deep breath, a sigh of relief. He murmured something to her girlfriend and she nodded her head yes to him.
“What are you two conspiring to do?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gavin snapped her way, baring his fangs. He pivoted, heading in her direction, his jawline twitching.
Every assassin knew all entrance and exit points in a house. In the position she found herself against the far wall, nowhere to go, her only way out was to fight. I don’t want to hurt him.
Where her traitorous thought came from, she hadn’t a clue. He drew closer to her by taking larger steps than her small ones away from him. His scent hit her nose and her jaguar paced under her skin. Her pussy began to throb. To ache. Gods, the slight twinge intensified, bringing her to her knees. On wobbly legs she rose to stand her ground, defiant, her claws unsheathed for self-preservation. Her mouth salivated, wanting a taste. His eyes glimmered in amusement. She watched him trace his bottom lip with his tongue. Her nipples hardened from the sensual act. A brief thought of what his lips would feel like grazing along her skin flitted through her mind.
“What are you afraid of?” His coarse question broke through the erotic thoughts stream-lining in her head. The second he stepped close enough to cage her body between the walls and his chest, she faced self-truth.
“You. Me.” Her second word was lost to their audience as his mouth crushed down on hers and she was taken in a tailspin of sensations. His possession dragged her into an abyss of dark pleasure. Anger never tasted so good. She heard herself moan and couldn’t stop herself from running her hands up his chest, her body leaning into his for more. Gavin angled his head to part her mouth with his tongue. The taste of him sent shards of electricity to pulse between her thighs. Her needy cunt creamed. Startled by his effect on her, she struggled to break free, and realized she’d just become an active participant in Gavin’s kissing game, with her mate as audience in the room with them. Guilt overwhelmed her and she panicked. Gavin nipped her bottom lip between his teeth and bit. The look on his face told her they were by no means finished yet. He gave her one additional suckle, let go, and pushed off the wall out of her close proximity. Like a beast guarding his territorial rights, she watched him scowl at the additional members of his team who’d come in at an inopportune time, including some she-bitch to the right of the room, whose attitude hit her full blast.

Available Dec 12th from Decadent Publishing.
Check out the link to my character interview with Amara and Marisol!
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Thanks for visiting!

Monday, December 19, 2011

Am I on the Nice or Naughty List?

by Mahalia Levey



What deeds put one on the Naughty or Nice List. I know I’m a bit old for Santa…But I still like to sit on his lap to whisper what I want.  Does that alone make me a very naughty girl? I should hope so!  Below is a list of random deeds. I need you all to help me find out where I fit best.

Vera Good Hales                                      Oh so Bad Hales
I take very good care of the man!     More Spice then Suga!
I ate all my veggies!                                I devoured his meat!
I make people smile!                              I stole his fave toy!            
Innocence is my game!                          What a lying shame!
One Man for me?                   OR             Maybe 2 or 3….
Sweet Young Thang?                              Cougar on the Prowl?
Demure?                                                      Fiery Hellcat?
Perfect Caring Mama!                            Screams like a Banshee!
Hard Working Lady!                              Pouts til She Gets her Way!
Lover of Romance!                                  Writer with Naughty Flair!

I hope Ya’ll have a very Naughty erm….Great Christmas with loved ones and friends…Here’s the link to my FREE XMAS Story on my website!
Jericha Simmons has decided that two years of being invisible is enough. With Christmas around the corner the bold executive secretary is determined to gain the attention of the aloof CEO Dane Savage by sending him an anonymous gift. Though Christmas is around the corner, Jericha isn’t even trying to be nice.  Instead, she’s bypassing nice and hoping to land a spot on Dane’s naughty list.   If all goes as planned, she’ll reveal her naughty, little secret at the company Christmas party.  And if all goes very well, hopefully the sexy CEO will punish her so good for being so bad. 
http://www.mahalialevey.com/uploads/On_The_Naughty_List_Mahalia-Levey.pdf

Enjoy and Follow me on Twitter and Facebook!
www.facebook.com –Search MahaliaLevey

Saturday, November 5, 2011

A Look at what Inspired The Price of Defiance

 


by Mahalia Levey


For the past six years The Fast and The Furious and sequels have glamorized street racing. We’ve fallen for Dom and Brian and the bad boy lifestyle they perpetrate and condone the laws broken. Luda brings in expertise on the internal workings on the car and we’re further introduced to hackers proficient in stopping traffic etc. Their crimes are also glamorized and made to make all the sexy criminals we see possess an intelligence to surpass any law enforcement professional. Do I think the movies rock? Yes, do I believe anyone can out think those who specialize in bringing down thugs of every kind? No.


The Price of Defiance began two years ago as a short two thousand word story of a young woman who races and is caught by the authorities. She’s not only forced to look at her crime but at the man she doesn’t want to come retrieve her. I stopped it there leaving a short. When I received my rights back I decided to write her story, not knowing then what pushed her to make the decisions she made. I only knew that if she didn’t have an intervention she’d end up dead or worse.  My character lacked guidance and with family and support, I had to know her driving factor was. I wanted to see the intelligent yet childish at times young woman grow into a responsible adult. I burned to see her self-discovery.
I began researching the horrors of illegal street racing and the effects ranging from individuals racing to victims of circumstance and the toll such a hobby took on a community. Police have taken such a stance as crushing any cars suspected of being involved in these races. Imagine possessing a car worth fifty grand and up picked up and crushed, and getting a ticket for having a car believed tied to racing. Technology has caught up with these smart individuals by helo’s and cops shooting EMP devices at the cars to shut down their electrical system. I was astounded at the raw footage found on line and the lives ruined. What better way of bringing a story to life than showing the negative side of racing and the addiction that comes with it. I won’t go into addiction here. I’ll be on Delilah Devlin’s Blog on the 12th with the topic of addiction. This story has so many layers within I can’t tell it all on one blog!
Blurb:America Patterson loves living on the edge. Car model by day, illegal street racer by night, she’s known as the best. Except underneath her flawless façade lies a young woman filled with turmoil. When her hobby lands her in hot water, she finds herself handcuffed and bailed out by the one person who’d abandoned her….
MMA Fighter Alejandro Escovedo is summoned home after a tournament that had left him sore and questioning his career. Expecting a nice welcome home, he instead finds himself rescuing his best friend’s sister out of jail. This time he’s had enough.

Their explosive past gives him all the rights where America is concerned, and he is more than ready to take her on. By ending her daredevil ways and finding the trigger to her self-destructive behavior, will he convince her he’s back to stay or drive her further away?
Tags: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, BDSM and some bondage

Excerpt:
“America, where are you?”
“Saint, I’m in big trouble.” Amy gripped the cell tightly to her ear. “I’m at Truman Memorial Hospital, about to be taken to jail.” She started to sob when reality dawned on her.
“Thank God, you’re alive. I’ve been going out of my mind since the link to the wreck was sent to my cell phone. Sit tight. We’ve been fielding police and the media, trying to protect your professional name. Sis, Alejandro demanded to be the one to handle the situation.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Her brother and his team of misfits were all she had while growing up. Being named after their country of conception and proved just how zany her family was. Saint Vincent got his name chopped in half to Saint. “Is this going to hurt your business?”
“No. Alejandro will make sure you have a smooth transaction. I’m forwarding him your info now. Sit still and relax. Can’t have the baby of the family locked up and forgotten.”
She winced at the thought of seeing Alejandro again after so long. Her voice dropped an octave. “Can’t you come? I haven’t seen him since—”
“Miss, we’re ready to transport you to the police department,” Officer Blake interrupted.
“I gotta go.” Amy snapped the phone shut and handed it back to the officer. He was kind enough to leave, allowing her to change into the scrubs they’d sent for. She rapped and opened the door after toeing into the slip-on canvas shoes. “I’m ready.” Head dropped low, she allowed them to escort her to the jailhouse that was a ten-minute ride away.
Being booked took longer than she’d expected, and it mortified her. A nifty machine imprinted her fingerprints electronically after they took her mug shot. The issue with her identification became clear once she had a chance to speak and separate her professional identity from her personal one. When they finished processing her fingerprints and mug shot, she followed them through general population and looked at all the criminals on the way to her holding cell. The door buzzed and opened, and she was ushered in. She cast a glance at the officer, who shook his head, locked the door, and turned his back.
I’m not a criminal.

Face Book- MahaliaLevey



Saturday, March 19, 2011

My, How We've Grown! (Some of ) The Decadent Team

Heather Bennett (owner) ~ 2nd Grade
Colleen Beilke ~ Review Coordinator
Lisa Omstead (owner)








Kathleen Gallagher
Why don't they leave me alone? I have no time for photo shoots. There are more important things on my mind. 
















Shiela Stewart:
This is back when I was sweet and innocent. And then I grew up! Muhahahahahaha!!








                               Valerie Mann 
First time in the snow... BEFORE
 
                                                                                           ...and AFTER

and what's up with the Bozo the Clown boots? I have big feet, but really??





Mahalia Levey











 



Leanne Dyck (The Sweater Curse):  "My huge head full of words waiting to put pen to paper." (Picture taken in 1962 by my Dad)














Ellen Keener ~ 

First, I always liked cars better than Barbie.  Second, can you tell that Mom always cut my hair, and I hated it? When we lived in Winchester, the neighbors actually had to explain to friends once that the screaming coming from our backyard wasn't because I was dying  - it was just Rich (my mom) cutting Vanessa's hair.
Wendy Burke
From a very young age, Wendy Burke was destined to be full of hot air.



 


Ashlynn Monroe


 Silke Juppenlatz

This was umm... 1965 or so.
Looks like I managed to water everything -- except the dilapidated plant which is crying out for some... water!
That’s what I call precision splashing, it takes a lot of practice!





Leslie Soule

Sunday, February 27, 2011

For Better or Worse ~ Decadent Authors in the Spotlight

 



"The tin grin was in. My mom took this picture in 1981 when I was nineteen. I had braces for six years," says Leanne Dyck (author of The Sweater Curse). Leanne offers no explanation for the glasses or the hair, however.





 



 







Rita Hestand - 1960s  "Me, the one is a picture of my hair ratted back in the late 60's, it is sticking out all over, the other is what it looked like when it was combed into a style.  My mother was a hairdresser and took both pics."















Kathleen Gallagher ~ "If I Could Turn Back Time", was released June 1, on my birthday. If Cher could wear the wild hairstyle, so could I. 












 Ann Mayburn ~ late 80's. "Those giant dark glasses, that tough girl glare, I was hell on wheels! Pink and grey 10 speed wheels that is. On a walk...with my grandma and my little brother. Yep...I was a real bad ass."




Valerie Mann ~ 1976, Denver, CO. Dig the groovy beaded headband and sexy hotpants (too bad the picture cut off the view of my legs). My mother made those duds for me - they said "VOTE" all over them. 
My father and I came home and found a wild duck in the yard. Judging from the stranglehold I had on it, it's no wonder it flew away during the night. 



 Clare Dargin - late 90's. That was a meeting for my job a little over ten years ago.  And they were going over from table to table taking pix and I was, oh, I've been here all day... okay... <cheez!> now go away so we can finish and I can go home!!







Maureen O. Betita
~ 1976. "I was 16 and this was my pic from my student body card. Oddly enough, I thought I was fat. Sigh. Man, I loved that shirt! And I often wore it with my light blue bell bottoms, painted with flowers on them... I still own them in my memory box."
















Mahalia Levey ~1993 April just admitted early into the military :)













Sheila Stewart ~ "Do not piss me off!!"














Mari Freeman ~ Mardi Gras Road Trip, New Orleans 1985

















Gracen Miller - 1989 ~ Good Lord!!--that hair is atrocious!!!  LOL  And to think I paid for that awful curl job.  *shudders*  Looks more like I stuck my finger in an electric socket.  :-)












  












Jennifer Robins, Age 15
Jennifer always wanted to write even at an early age but couldn't find the needed time until she grew much older. 





 










Deena Remiel ~ A long time ago, in a land far away called Long Island, there lived a girl. There, she shed her sheltered world and came into her own as a college student for four years. This girl was captured in photograph in her second year, 1985. She partied hard, made great friends, and studied well.