Author: christina

Alicia "Ace" Miller has always had a somewhat contentious, arms-length relationship with Las Vegas Detective Cree Bradley. She likes their level of engagement exactly where it is - non-existent, never any occasion to cross paths. Until she needs his help. Only the most powerful of emotions - paired with fractured memories and the unshakeable feeling that something is missing - can make Alicia seek assistance from a man whose very presence puts her on edge. However, with lives at stake, her family on the line, and a chance at filling in the blanks of her past on the verge of slipping through...

Unedited. Subject to change. Probably the last sample. Enjoy :) The thing about the Whitfields though… if you answered to one, you answered to all. But even if that wasn’t the case, I would always ask “how high?” to any request of Angela’s to see me jump, because she was one of my favorite people in the world. “Sit down, please,” she said, motioning to a place at the counter where a cup of black coffee was already set up. Hers was at the next seat, and without waiting for me, she made herself comfortable in the bar chair and started adding...

“Is that why there’s no Mrs. Cree Bradley? You're jaded and suspicious?” Cree shrugged. “Not really, actually. I just… haven’t vibed like that with anybody. Good sex… that’s easy. Anything beyond that just hasn’t seemed to pan out.” “That sounds like bullshit.” “It does, doesn’t it?” he chuckled. “It’s the truth though. There have been a few women who, on the surface, I would’ve loved to make something happen with. Great on paper, just didn’t vibe.” Something about the way he said that sparked something in my mind, and instead of letting it go, I asked, “Was Vivica Russell one of them?” That made him...

Unedited. Release date TBD. Enjoy :)     “Accusing you of a crime?” Cree chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m not here for that. I’m here looking for a… how did Roach describe you… you remember him, right?” Fuck. “Detective Bradley, I can’t say I’ve ever considered a roach to be anything more than a disgusting, inhuman thing to be crushed under my foot. Not something to remember.” “Wow. That’s interesting, because he definitely remembers a “fine ass, redbone bitch with long braids”.” Cree’s eyes went to my hair, still in last night’s cornrows. “Does that sound as familiar to you as it sounds to me?” “This...

“Ms. Miller… are you in some kind of trouble?” She snorted. “Do I really seem like the type of woman to get into trouble?” “You seem like the type of woman who is trouble. Like anybody who crosses you might have a problem on their hands.” “Well…” she smirked. “Glad to know that I’m putting off the correct impression.” I chuckled, then pushed my hands into my pockets as I studied her face, trying to figure out… anything. “You definitely are. Which is why you have to understand my curiosity about… pretty much everything, as it relates to you.” “I understand it just fine, Detective...

Let's get a little March Madness of our own going, by deciding once and for all (heh. So far, that is) what the fan favorite CCJ book is! var eventMethod = window.addEventListener ? "addEventListener" : "attachEvent"; var messageEvent = eventMethod == "attachEvent" ? "onmessage" : "message"; window[eventMethod](messageEvent, function(e) { if (e.origin != "https://brackify.com") { return;} var iframeWrap = document.getElementById("brackify-iframe-wrap"); if (iframeWrap) { if (e.data["scroll"]) { var bodyRect = document.body.getBoundingClientRect(); var elemRect = iframeWrap.getBoundingClientRect(); var offset = elemRect.top - bodyRect.top + e.data["scroll"]; ...

“Don’t say it!” “Say what?” “Don’t say “until you” again, as if he and I… have a thing.” Her eyebrow shot up. “You don’t have a thing?” “I told you what I’m on, Nik! And in case you need a reminder, it’s not that man’s dick, because that’s not why I came here.” “Unexpected perks, cousin.” She bent to wring the extra water from the mop before she slapped it to the floor again. “You could do a lot worse. I mean, it’s not like he’s one of those who was out there, like his homey Russ is. He never had like a bad reputation,...

“Okay,” he nodded. “I see what’s happening here, you with the smile, and the hair, and the dimples, all of that.” I smirked. “Do you really though? Cause I’m pretty sure I caught you all the way off guard just now. Or are you gonna front on me again?” “I didn’t front on you a first time,” he countered, with the kind of smile that made it very easy to remain in a seat that very well could’ve belonged to another woman. Before I could find out, a server came past, asking if we wanted refills on our drinks. He said yes, asking...