As far back as I can remember, I’ve loved the art of literature. I’ve enjoyed many a story in many different genres, my favorite being Romance. More specifically, Paranormal Romance. A couple of years ago, I decided that I wanted to try my hand at writing a story of my own. And when I made the choice, there was no going back. My passion for reading, became my passion for writing. With that, my own personal style developed along with my writing genre of choice – that being “Interracial Paranormal Romance”. I do however, intend on trying my hand in many different genres in years to come.
I come from humble beginnings. Brought up in the “ghetto”, I made a choice long ago, that I would not let my past define my future. And, I’ve been lucky to accomplish many things in my life – but I have got to say, that the one thing that sparks a fire in my soul like nothing ever has, is Writing. I feel as though my characters are my very best friends. It’s a feeling beyond compare, and an amazing journey each and every time. Withal, my only hope is that when someone reads my stories, they too are elevated into that world and taken on that journey.
Amaryllis is an English lady. One with an open heart, gentle spirit, and shining eloquence. She knew that she should not desire MarcoAntonio. Still, a love feeling so right couldn’t be so horribly wrong!
Travel with MarcoAntonio and Amaryllis as they duel with internal and external forces threatening to tear their powerful love apart. In the midst of troubles the likes of which have no compare, MarcoAntonio and Amaryllis find themselves having to fight the most unexpected of adversaries, just for the right to love each other.
Discover why their LOVE is the result of ALL things conquered!
It was still dark, but it did not matter. MarcoAntonio was certain that his brother would provide him help. Pulling up to his brother’s home, Marco called out, “Damian!” The lights inside were out, but upon his call Marco heard some movement, so he tried again. “Damian, despertad. He llegado en necesidad de vuestra ayuda, hermano.”
“You know that I do not require much of anything. However, t’would be nice if you would at least give me the respect of speaking in English.” Rye spoke ironically as he did so well.
“Alright,” Marco responded with a tiny smirk, as he walked towards his brother’s dormitory door and knocked. He could already hear his brother up and about. “Damian, my brother, I’ve come in search of you because I need your help.”
“Yes. Yes. I’m coming!” he heard Damian call to him from inside. Suddenly, a female voice giggled from behind the door. Marco and Rye heard Damian hushing someone “Shhh… behave, Ma’ Lady. I’ve company. ‘Tis my older brother. Now behave.” Marco heard Damian speak to the lady in question lightheartedly.
The female voice replied, “Alright, but only if you gift me first, a kiss.”
“Oh, Ma’ Lady… naughty, naughty.” The female laughed.
Rye was appalled and disgusted. “Really, Marco? This playboy ’tis the man that shall help us?”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms on his chest.
In just seconds the door flew open. Behind it stood a statuesque man of about MarcoAntonio’s height, weight, and color, and as strong as well. His curls were looser than Marco’s. His eyes green, as opposed to Marco’s brown, and he bore no facial hair. He resembled Marco quite a lot. He fought to put his shirt on properly.
Rye’s face went blank. His skin went pale, eyes opened widely. Then Damian spoke. “Ah, my dear brother. How may I assist you?” Finally adjusting his shirt in the right place, Damian made space through the door way, and extended his hand out to his company. “Come in. Come in.”
“Brother!” MarcoAntonio said with glee, and gave him a big hug.
“Marco. ‘Tis been way too long.”
Both Marco and Rye walked in. Rye was practically mute. Something about this man, not only resembled Marco, but also reminded him so much of Fonso. He was flabbergasted.
“Damian, this is my assistant, Rye. Rye, this is my younger brother, Damian.”
Damian extended his hand offering Rye a shake. Rye moved slowly and awkwardly, offering Damian his. “’Tis a rather small man, brother.” Damian told MarcoAntonio in an odd tone, as if Rye were not standing right in front of him.
Shaking himself back into reality, Rye spoke. “We gypsies have no need for size or strength. We’ve speed, agility and intelligence in our favor,”
“Touché!” Damian replied. “Well, ’tis nice meeting you.”
Damian’s conquest for the night peeked around the corner of the wall, which divided his living room from his bedroom, and she assessed the men in the room. Then glancing over at Damian with coquetry she queried with a flirting delivery. “Damian, will you have me waiting all night?”
Damian looked back at her, and then at his visitors. Lifting a single finger in their direction, he hinted to them to wait a moment. “Ah. Ma’ Lady, I’ve something for you.” He jumped towards a shelf and grabbed something, then jumped back in her direction. “Ma’ Lady, please accept this trinket of my affection. And know that the rarity of this represents the rareness of my sentiment for you.” Then he placed the small box in the palm of her hand. “Now Ma’ Lady, I must tend to my brother and his companion, and I am forced to ask you to relinquish our venture for the night.” He took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it softly and winked. The girl sighed with a mixture of disappointment and rapture.