Dariel's World

Hi. I'm Dariel Raye, an interracial/multi-cultural paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and psy/suspense author, and every day of this journey is a learning experience. I'm also a counselor, musician, and animal lover. My stories are about all-conquering love and romance, and I enjoy hosting other authors as well. Enter a world where werewolves, vampires, multi-shifters, vamp-like Nephilim, Vodouin Fey, and all things paranormal capture our hearts...

You might also like to visit my website.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Sneak Peek: "Calm Assurance" (Orlosian Warriors, Bk. 1)

 Calm Assurance blurb
A straight-laced Nephilim-descendant and a human trouble-magnet?

When Asriel - Orlosian Warrior, descendant of Nephilim, law enforcer – is sent to guard Malina, a human with a penchant for drawing trouble like a tornado, she becomes his obsession.

With no hope of finding love in his dimension, he breaks the cardinal rule, leaving his home to protect her, but she has also drawn the attention of his enemies, and he is forced to face demons from his past. If Asriel chooses to stay with Malina, not only does he risk forfeiting his right to ever return to his dimension, but he will need her blood to survive.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Zaidi Features: Interview With Jacqueline George

1.    When did you know you wanted to be a writer? What were some of your first steps toward making your dream a reality? How would you say most of your stories are conceived? Dreams? Research? Experience?

      My first book was published 25 years ago… What an amateur I was then; how
      much better am I now? Mmh – jury’s still out. Stories come from day-dreams, but 
      always brought to life with experience. I am insistent on true-to-life, even in a 
     fantasy setting.

2.    What 3 things would you like readers to know about you?

Really – I just don’t care! I want people to know and like my books, and don’t feel that I matter at all

3.    What role does your family play in your writing, if any? Any pets? If so, how many and what kind?

A lot of my books are sexy, so I make a point of refusing to discuss exactly where the line between fantasy and reality lies. Would not be fair to my partner! On the other hand, my cat Rudy is fair game. If only he could read perhaps he would stop being so arrogant.

4.    Tell us about your books. Genre, titles, any favorite characters? What can we look forward to from you in the near future? WIP’s, upcoming releases?

Most of my output is either sexy romance or adventure. As I said above, all of them are meant to feel real, even when they are talking about witches etc. It’s always easier to make a story real if you have an actual location in mind. I have been lucky enough to live in several countries (we were part of the oil industry) so exotic locations, food, people are frequent. I have written a little history too and right now I am working on an explanation of fracking – I shall call it Fracking 101. My absolute best seller is a lifestyle title - How to make Wild, Passionate Love to your Man

5.    Is there a common thread in your books? How do your values show up in your writing? What do you want readers to take from your writing?

      I don’t do sad, horror or violence, and I insist on my heroines standing up for 
     themselves. So Anesthesia Steele in Fifty Shades wouldn’t get a walk-on part! I 
     would love women to take encouragement from my books, and recognize that sex 
     can only help their relationships. So give yourself enough time to make love – it’s 

6.    What do you look for in a good book? In what ways would you say your books exhibit these qualities?

First and foremost, it has to be a good story. Real characters, real settings, sensible motives – real! Then you need a plot that keeps the reader engaged. Even if they guess that it is all going to end well, they still won’t exactly how that is going to happen…

7.    What are some things you know now about writing and being an author that you wish someone had told you at the very beginning?

It would have saved a lot of heart searching if I had been told that the book trade is not concerned too much with the quality of your writing. As long as it reaches a certain minimum standard, it’s good enough. (Look at The Da Vinci Code… and that sold zillions.) It took me years before I realised that my writing was pretty good but I just lacked the vital ingredient for success – a favourite uncle in the book trade.

8.    Along that same line, what are some of your favorite resources?

Google and Wikipedia! Life is just so easy for us now, with the instant research tools. Another great resource is knowledge of places. Given a choice, the reader will always go for a back street market in Kalimantan over the familiar shopping malls of home.

9.    What lifts your spirits when you’re discouraged?

The next sale. It’s all about people giving good money to read my books – always makes me feel good.

10.Other than writing, what’s your passion?

I live in a remote village in the far north of tropical Queensland. I am passionate about life here; it takes so much time to get the simplest stuff done here.

11.Not limited to writing, what do you believe are some of your greatest accomplishments so far?

You know, I have done things that make people jealous but I can’t characterize them as achievements myself. I don’t look at my life that way…

12.What tips can you offer towards building and maintaining a strong support system as a writer?

Keep in constant touch with your writing friends (I am blessed with several). Swap ideas, edit for each other, promote each other’s work. What goes around, comes around.

13.For the adventurous, write a descriptive 4-line poem.  You’re welcome to freestyle):

Going her own way,
Butterfly brain and
Pain in the bum!

Friday, July 24, 2015

Flasher Friday: "Sunrise Epiphany"

Happy Friday! I'm late today, but couldn't miss out on this breathtaking inspirational pic. As usual, my friends and I are writing 100-word flashes to the picture above, so be sure to stop by and check theirs out when you're finished here. Hope you enjoy, and comments are greatly appreciated :-)

Sunrise Epiphany
 Another sleepless night. Every nerve pricked my skin, my stomach in endless knots, but when I closed my eyes, losing hope as dawn brushed away the darkness, he was there, awakening every one of my senses…but one.

“Why won’t you let me see you?” I whispered.

“Seeing is overrated,” he breathed, his mouth on my breast, tongue laving each nipple, the powerful sensation zinging to my core, tentacles spreading, rushing up to overtake me, washing away every concern, every care.

I stretched against him, my phantom lover, and he complied, filling my need.


I smiled, finally resting.  Seeing was indeed, overrated. “Better.”

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Zaidi Features: "Light 'O Love" by Jacqueline George

Please join me in welcoming the wonderfully talented Jacqueline George to my site. I've wanted to feature her work here for some time, now, so when I found out about her new release, we couldn't think of a more perfect time. I'll be interviewing her on Sunday, so join us here again to learn more about her.

When Shirley arrives at the Institute, she thinks she will be studying Politics. But the Institute has a sterner purpose, the study of Witchcraft. Gradually, Shirley is introduced to the practice and history of the Craft. She has a talent for mind control and for romance, and is given her witch's name, Light o'Love...

Rossiter took in the situation. “Are you sure it’s them?”

“Of course. Look at them; who else could it be?”

“Exactly. Let me think. If they’re Nick’s people in disguise, he already knows we’re here, and Holly and Dhu Varren already know he is here. I’m going to cover us up. If Nick’s around, it will be as good as putting up a billboard advertising us, but he will know that anyway. If the people really are Godiva and The Lamplighter, they just won’t see us. But Nick will if he’s somewhere across the valley spying out the ground. We’ll be out of reach, but tempting. Sit still.”

Rossiter started his charms and crawled right around her making passes from above his head down to the rock they sat on. He turned and smiled to her. “There, we can watch them climb past and they won’t even know we’re here.”

Godiva and The Lamplighter had found the pack trail and were zigzagging up the side of the fell. They did not hurry, and Light o'Love could hear their chattering slowly coming nearer. They were young, cheerful and in love. Once they had climbed high enough, they left the path and headed towards the boulder where Rossiter and Light o'Love were hiding.

“They’re OK, I think,” Light o'Love whispered. “I can feel them and they’re genuine. What do you think?”

“I think so too, but why are they coming here?”

They were getting much closer and it was hard to look Godiva in the face without flinching and trying to hide.

“This looks good,” said Godiva as she got close enough to see the short grass. “No-one will be able to see us behind here.”

The Lamplighter looked suspiciously around one side of the boulder and then the other and finally he gave a wide smile and swung his small rucksack from his shoulders.

“This is just the right place. At last.” He pulled a folded groundsheet from his rucksack. Between them, they spread it on the grass behind the boulder. They unwrapped their anoraks from their waists and folded them as pillows. Godiva unlaced her boots, kicked them off, and rolled on top of The Lamplighter.

“Now I’ve got you,” she said. “All to myself. No escape.” She swung her hair to one side and started to kiss him.

Light o'Love looked at Rossiter. He had a naughty smile on his face as he lay on his stomach and settled down to watch. Light o'Love lay beside him. There was nothing else to do.
They watched as the lovers giggled and kissed below them. They shared long sucking kisses as they drank and explored each other. The Lamplighter had already pulled Godiva’s shirt out and his hands were wandering beneath, looking for the fastening of her bra.

He broke their kiss and pushed her back until she was kneeling astride him. One by one, he undid her buttons until he could push her shirt back over her shoulders. It caught on her wrists and Godiva had to help him, fumbling at her cuffs until she could pull her shirt clear. She shrugged off her bra and he took it from her, folding it and placing it at the edge of the groundsheet. He lay back with his hands behind his head and stared at her.

From where she lay, behind and above, Light o'Love could not see Godiva’s breasts clearly, but The Lamplighter could and he liked them. “You are a beautiful, beautiful woman,” he said in his deep voice, and he reached out to take a breast in each hand. Godiva sighed and Light o'Love knew that her eyes would be closed as The Lamplighter played with her. Her head rolled from side to side.

With a powerful twist of his body, he turned her onto her back. He leaned over her and, with one big hand, he held her wrists together above her head. She did not take her eyes from his face as she waited quietly for what he would do to her. He bent to her and kissed her, her face, her eyes, her neck, her mouth. She struggled uselessly in his grip as he kissed and she returned his kisses. She still struggled as he kissed down to the pink tips of her breasts. Her eyes closed and she whimpered as he sucked and teased.

Light o'Love no longer felt any embarrassment. Watching her friends was not an intrusion and it was making her excited. She moved closer to Rossiter and he put his arm around her. He felt good beside her.

Below them, The Lamplighter had left Godiva’s breasts and pulled the rest of her clothes off. She kicked her legs free and lay back, one leg straight and the other bent at the knee, fallen sideways to open herself to him. Her pussy was a pink shadow beneath its wispy blonde fur. She was Eve incarnate, the woman who does nothing and still rules her man with her beauty.

The Lamplighter lay beside her and lowered his hand to the fork of her legs. Godiva propped herself up on her elbows and, like a mouse fascinated by a serpent, watched his masculine brown hand probing her, parting her lips and dipping into the nectar within. She dropped back with a moan and lifted her hips, thrusting them upwards in a slow rhythm to draw him into her. The Lamplighter played on as Godiva’s moans became louder and her movements faster.

Watching felt immensely exciting for Light o'Love, and she made no objection when Rossiter took his hand from around her shoulders and reached underneath her. She lifted her hips from the rock and allowed him to unclip her breeches and reach inside. His fingertips were roaming across her mound and she knew she was as wet as Godiva.

Godiva’s moaning had taken on a desperate tone as her climax drew near. She hung on to The Lamplighter with one hand while the other arm stretched out wide and gripped a fold in the ground sheet. Her eyes were closed tight and her face was red and strained.

With both hands, Light o'Love struggled to push her breeches and panties over her hips and halfway down her thighs. Now Rossiter had the freedom of her pussy and she lowered herself into the palm of his hand. He clasped his fingers into her wetness and she moved slowly against him.

About Jacqueline George
Jacqueline lives in Far North Queensland, on the shore of the Coral Sea. She keeps herself busy with her cats and garden, and by writing books - some of which are far too naughty for her own good. You can find out more about Jacqueline and her books at 

Friday, July 17, 2015

Flasher Friday: "The Traveler"

It's glorious Friday again, and do we have an awesome pic and several tales for you! When you're finished here, check out my friends' versions, here. 

The Traveler

“If you’re married, just tell me. There’s no need to make up ridiculous tales, Michael.”

Michael dropped his head, glancing at her one more time before turning to walk away, but just as she started to step inside the apartment, he caught her wrist, frightening her at first, until she looked into his eyes, a question on her lips.

He took full advantage, covering her mouth with his own, his hard body pressed against hers, and she breathed him in.

Lost in his touch, his scent, warm sandalwood, his taste, spicy, addictive, she dismissed the sensation of falling, the ground dropping away. 

Moments later, she opened her eyes in another time, surrounded by candles, torches, and people she’d never seen before.

Michael held her hand, speaking to a cloaked man. “You may begin.” 

Sunday, July 12, 2015

"Mystical Magical Love" Boxed-set Party & Takeovers

The Mystical Box Set Babes want to share their Paranormal Tales of hot, wild, and sexy 
alpha men. These amazing magical stories of Alpha men and the sexy women that love them 
are filled with intrigue, suspense and 
healthy dose of romance. These sexy stories will leave you breathless...wanting 
more...wanting a HOT 
You'll LOVE them ALL!!!!
Please join the event and invite your friends. Authors, we have open slots for takeovers.
Mystical Magical Love By Mystical Box Set Babes
I'm going to ask you for your help. Please sign up for our next box set tour. That would be so 
Thank you,
Please share

Friday, July 10, 2015

Flasher Friday: "Tango-a-Tango"

Eek! I was in such a hurry to get my tango couple posted, forgot to write my intro :-) As you know, Fridays are for flashing in 100 words, and I'm happy to see you. Take a look at my friends' renditions of the dance by clicking here.

“Late again.”

“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who kept running back to…”

“To change, Ron! To change!”

“We’re here. Don’t make us later than we already are. We do this every time.”

“I’m sitting here until you at least open my damn door.”

Ron walked around and swung the door open, giving Tess a once over as she swung a long, shapely leg from the Benz, stepped around him, and strutted toward the entrance.

The roar of the crowd greeted them, their cue music starting just as they walked in and stepped onto the dance floor. Tess wrapped her leg around Ron’s, both reminded of the tango, on and off the floor. 

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Zaidi Features: "Forbidden Dance" by Stella Eromonsere-Ajanaku

My friend and fellow author, Stella Eromonsere-Ajanaku is celebrating her new release, "Forbidden Dance," and the awesome Renee Jeffries and Felicia Welch-Reevers (also friends, I'm proud to be able to say) are hosting a big party with games, fun, and prizes to help celebrate! I'll be there, and hope to see you, too :-)

Open Invitation  

Event Title: Flirty & Feisty Romance Release Celebration for upcoming steamy hot novella – Forbidden Dance

Date: Wednesday 15th July 2015

Time: 11am – 11pm Eastern Coast Time

It is going to be a fun event with lots of prizes to be won. A great opportunity to chat with several authors and readers.


About the Author

Stella, loves writing romance novels that are as intriguing and flirty as they are entertaining. The witty dialogue between the characters keep you thoroughly entertained. Flirty & Feisty Romance Novels are a wide range of toe-curling, skin-tingling romance books with compelling characters who have heart and soul.
The stories are set in fascinating Africa, enticing Europe and enchanting America and are dotted with unexpected twists, turns and conflicts. If you want to cuddle up and relax, grab a copy, travel with the characters and sail away to Pleasure Island. The stories cure boredom and relieve stress.
In 2010, Stella created Flirty & Feisty Romance Novels. Her first contemporary romance novel; Loitering Shadows was published in May 2010. Other Flirty & Feisty Romance Novels are, Stormy Defense, Beyond the Lady, The Gardener’s Ice Maiden, Sparkling Dawn, Husband to Rent, Stolen Valentine Kiss (Holiday Series #1) & Kiss My Lips (Holiday Series #2). Royal Cowries (Cowries Series #1) is her first historical romance. 
On Stella’s writing desk at the moment, are three exciting romance stories.
Stella is married to her gorgeous best friend and lover and they are blessed with two teenage children. They live in London, UK.

In her leisure time, Stella goes swimming, reads romance novels, goes to the Cinema with her family, and watches TV.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Zaidi Features: "Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences" by Muffy Wilson

My new book was released June 11th by Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing in ebook and in print. The reviews are have been rolling in and I am humbled. I am so glad it is being met with such a warm reception. Thank you so much. 

Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences Is the story about a young woman who meets a young, rising black opera star post-symphony at an elegant reception held in one of the symphony benefactors mansions in San Francisco.

A greeting, a touch, a shared breath. Their worlds collide and ignite in an erotic explosion of volcanic proportions that neither could resist. How about a bit of a blurb and a tasty teaser? 

Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°
Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
Muffy Wilson

Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

THAT night…

SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen and revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone…but not for long.

Would she regret her indulgence?

HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, chest broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His intense black eyes locked irresistibly onto her and declared his hunger. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began, and his hypnotic gaze was met by her eager response as she answered his desire with a blush.

But, was his desire enough?

THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace riding moonbeams of passion and ribbons of desire that wove them irretrievably together in ways that only the future would disclose—a future neither of them ever anticipated. Would the secrets of the past, of that one night, prove too much to bear as the future unfolds the truth and the depths of her desperate need?

Would the life and death struggle she faced overshadow the seeds of love planted a decade earlier?

The orchestra warmed up in a disconnected, faltering collection of notes, strings and horns as the wealthy patrons filed into the theatre and were settled. She wore a flowing yet form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown with a backline to the small of her back above the well-rounded cheeks of her ass. The cascading neckline tumbled in silken folds to her abdomen which revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts.
She was of medium height with an envious rubenesque shape most men admired: long, shapely legs nipped tightly at the ankle tapering to narrow, small demi-feet elegantly adorned in satin heeled slippers with scarlet, well-pedicured peek-a-boo toes, full breasted bosom with pert erect nipples stretched against the fabric of her gown, round hips that accentuated a narrow waist and a lovely pleasing back that joined all her sumptuous qualities. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her rounded cheekbones accentuated the graceful curve of her jaw line as it narrowed to a slightly dimpled chin below heart-shaped ruby lips. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn curls that caressed the pale white opaque flesh of her face. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival. She glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone.
The house lights dimmed yet she glowed, demurely, in the white gown as if she were unmistakably the main attraction.
She stared as he walked onstage: a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, arms outstretched in black opulent leather to embrace the audience, she felt to embrace her. His piercing gaze locked irresistibly onto her, in all her radiant purity. His intense black eyes seemed to declare his hunger.
The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. He sang, it seemed to Jordan, to no one but her as she smiled quite involuntarily. Each throaty, reverberating note he released strummed every nerve to her very foundation.  His musical seduction began, and would surely end she thought, with her in his outstretched arms. 
Her petulant feminine petals nestled in the protective mound where her thighs joined. They slowly filled with her eager response and unfolded the protection of the essential pearl of her existence as she answered his desire with a blush.
She sat through the entire performance tethered to his gaze. The magnetism she could not resist overtook her fully and her responses were involuntary yet welcome. She felt his gaze through her gown caress her, push her, tease her and excite her with every deep vibrato he released into the hall.
She was, therefore, completely surprised when the lights raised and the fluid embrace of his voice was gradually replaced by the swelling bustle of movement from the exiting audience. She looked to her left and right, then up to the stage beautifully shrouded by long red opulent velvet curtains separating her from the object of the gathered passion in her belly.
Her reverie broken, she returned to the moment at hand. As she rose, the romantic trance invoked by his voice broke, the hold eased, and dropped shard by shard from her body so that she could move. She gathered her wits, shook off the spell and seemed to float in the afterglow with the others to the atrium. She exited the main entrance to the broad threshold above the street below.
She took a few steps outside and shocked by the damp San Francisco night, drew her wrap ever tighter to her heaving breast, her nipples still erect from the seduction of the opera star. She paused a moment, enjoyed the remains of her trance, and proceeded down the steps to hail a cab.
The after symphony reception was held at the home of one of San Francisco’s most prominent elite, a huge supporter and member of the Symphony Board of Directors, Drake Morrison. Drake and his wife Amelia were friends of Jordan’s parents who were absent because of a holiday in the Orient. Jordan’s parents were regular supporters of the Symphony and met the Morrisons frequently during intermission on most opening nights for a glass of champagne. She had been invited as a distraction from her solitude to join them on opening night at the reception in their home. She agreed to attend eagerly as she often attended the symphony with her Mother when her Father was unable.
She felt her low-belly tighten; her heart pounded and her palms tingled with perspiration in anticipation. The main opera lead and cast always came to the receptions. The non-profit organization relied upon their attendance to boost donations so she knew she would see him here and she wondered if he would even recognize her or if the reverie of connection had been hers alone.
When he entered with his entourage, he towered over everyone with his black elegance. He was beautiful, a stunning black onyx statue carved to magnificent perfection. When she saw him, only feet away, she staggered slightly as he turned to her with an outstretched hand in greeting, eyes locked in a magnetic embrace. She lost her breath and her heart in one moment as she touched his fingertips with hers.
He clasped her hand with the both of his and pulled her close to his body with a knowing smile curled on the curve of his chiseled jaw line. She felt his heat, was hypnotized by his aroma. She knew then that he remembered her in the audience; he had sung to her, he had sent his words in musical notes on foils to surround her, lift and seduce her.
The moment was suspended when he was directed to further introductions. He bowed ever so slightly with his departure and barely whispered, a bientot, mem’selle, his breath searing her neckline. She weakened in his presence and felt ill-balanced on a passionate precipice as he moved away. Their arms outstretched unwilling to be parted, her hand slid from his as their fingertips relinquished an electric hold.
A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said. She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into the crowd of admirers.
She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.
The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his embrace as well as the shawl.
            “My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I presumed too much?” as he pressed himself to her body and the key card into her hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of resistance.
            “I, ah…No, you have not presumed beyond expectation.” She kept her voice low in spite of their momentary privacy. “The Morrisons are long time friends of my parents who don’t yet consider me a grown woman.” She smiled into his down-turned eyes and smelled his heat. “I thank you for your discretion.”
            He ran his fingertips from the wrap on her shoulder down the inside of her arm to the soft swell of her breast and lingered. His fingers caressed her naked flesh under her arm above the cut on the satin of her gown.
            Her knees buckled under the weight of her desire and he caught her as she fell into his full embrace.
            “Oh, God,” she breathlessly gasped and looked up into his dark eyes. “Do all women respond to you like this?”

            “You are not all women."
© Muffy Wilson

Sensual, passionate, timeless.... Muffy Wilson makes the reader feel as though he/she is in the room with all the characters. This lovingly written story of love, family and healing is so well told, you will find it hard to put down. Your heart will long for more and you wants to continue reading. Reading it out-loud with my partner makes it more real than reading in silence. It is a story of love, sacrifice and transcendence - enough to mend a broken heart. I highly recommend this book.
This is an erotica like no erotica I’ve ever read before. The book is written with lots of metaphorically sensuous language, which is in itself an erotic experience. The love story of Jordan and Mason, their two separate families and the price of coming together, gave this erotica another unusual twist. There’s heat, passion, love and strong family commitment. Enjoy!
~ Hawk
This book is a wonderful characterization of love between strangers, a timeless romantic expression that brings all lovers to the same destiny. This is the story of struggle, the telling of a long kept secret, the humbling sublimation of asking for help, the private struggles of a man torn by love and pained by loss. It is the story of how children can knit broken lives together with love and the ancient, precocious innocence that only children possess. It is the story of growth, love, passion and submission.
It is a story of the struggle between love and acceptance with a poetic elegance similar to that of Jane Austen. And I loved it from the dedicati
to the final page.
Muffy Wilson’s eloquent prose in her newest book, Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences, is a milestone in romance novels. She weaves a unique plot that will keep your interest page after page. Jordan is the mother of a daughter, Lily, who is in very ill. When her former lover brings a new dimension to the story, you will plead with the author to reconcile their love. I kept asking the author as I read, will Lily’s innocence bring Jordan and her lover back to the love they once enjoyed? You will find how Lily, both with her illness and innocence can spark the flames to refuel the passion of love from the past. Muffy’s descriptions and imagery goes beyond the realm of prose to poetry. The dialogue is outstandingly believable. When I read scenes of interaction in her book, I felt I was in the room with the characters. 
You will love this story and the amazing talent of Muffy Wilson. 
I give 5 Stars to Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences.
Muffy asked me to give this book a critical reading pre-release, and I was pleased to find it is a book with a full plot and a range of realistic characters. Romantic, yes; sexy, yes; but so much more. A book you can get your teeth into.
~ Jacqueline George

This story takes the reader on a pleasurable cruise of a renewed romance brought to the reader from the past of two characters. I fell in love with from the beginning to the end of this book. Muffy Wilson as the captain brings us passion and hopes for renewed love through the descriptions she intricately blends, savoring our palettes with delicacies we never forget. We are catered to hopes for a cure for Jordan’s daughter and what it might mean to her long lost lover. Complications seem insurmountable, but with each turn of the page, a new horizon is seen, bringing a mood for hope and continued passion between the main character, Jordan, her daughter, Lily, and the man from her past, who will steal your heart with his compassion, love, and understanding. I was blind by the interracial relationship, observing the man who is more than an ordinary man. He gives us hope for Jordan and Lily. Muffy guides us through treacherous obstacles, only to restore our wishes for her sacred love and survival of her daughter and the resolution of a love affair from the past that is renewed with each page I turned. I full-hearted give Moonbeams and Unintended Consequences
5 Stars. I thoroughly recommend this book to everyone.
Michael Jordan

Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing
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Muffy, author of erotic, romantic stories about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in San Antonio, Texas, to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. She adored her older brothers, following them everywhere and was surrounded by love, stimulation, and pets. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. The family lived in most points between Alaska and France. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and came of age in France.
Returning from France with her family, Muffy finished high school in Northern California and attended the University of California, Davis, and majored in Business Management. Muffy entered the work force, independent with a fierce work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West Regional Director in the Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her husband moved to a small Island in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic tavern, restaurant and resort business which they since have sold. They now live a charmed life by the water in SW Florida. Muffy pretends to be a serious real estate business person but, in real life, indulges her private interest in writing sexy short stories and sensual literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion.

Previously Published:
Secret Cravings Publishing, Oysters & Chocolate, Decadent Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Cheerleaders in Heat ~ August 2015
Something Funny Happened on the Way to the War ~ Dec 2015 

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Live ~ Laugh ~ Love
with Passion