Food + Sex + Best Friends in Love = Dirty Chef

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Alessia on Adam

He’s a feeling. His energy is a force that makes an impact whether you want it to or not. He’s charming, easygoing, and loved by everyone. Especially me. He’s been the love of my life since I was a fifteen-year-old summer camper and he was a burned-out chef volunteering to make sloppy joes in the dining hall.

Unfortunately, he has a type. Tall, thin, and gorgeous. And I’m…none of those things.

I’m the friend. The roommate. The one he runs a restaurant with.

Adam on Alessia

She’s my past, my present, and my future. She’s my muse. I cook with her tastes in mind. I cook for her. But, as my brother points out, she won’t be my future if I don’t come clean about the fact that I’ve been hung up on her for years.

Coming clean might not be a choice at this rate, though. If I see Alessia on another goddamn dating app, I’m gonna lose my shit. I physically can’t stay away from her any longer, even if I risk losing everything we’ve built together.

The Objective

The sexiest Valentine’s Day menu ever created. And maybe, just maybe, fingers aren’t the only thing getting licked after this meal.

Buon Appetito!

Excerpt

She’d meet someone soon. They’d get married and she would squeeze out a few runts, and I would never see her again. It would start out slow, of course. First, we’d stop living together because her new man would find that weird. Then, she’d miss a few shifts at work. Dates and whatnot. Eventually, she’d hire someone—maybe a hostess or bartender. She’d come to work one day with a rock on her finger, and she would burst with excitement as she announced she was pregnant.

I wanted to fucking hurl.

“Oh, look,” she gasped softly.

I raised a brow at the babies. The boy yawned.

“So cute,” Alessia whispered. “I know I’m being silly, but I’m just so happy for Isla and Jack.”

Yeah, everyone was pleased as punch, from grandparents and siblings to friends and even the freaking nurses.

Aforementioned family members also knew how to go home and catch some rest.

“I’m gonna check in with the new parents,” I said. “Then we’re outta here, all right?”

Alessia nodded, probably thrilled to get another few minutes of staring at the babies.

Yup, I was definitely losing her.

Fuck.

I found my brother in the next hall. Isla was asleep in the hospital bed, and Jack was in the uncomfortable chair next to her, checking his phone.

I knocked lightly on the doorframe, and he glanced up and smiled sleepily.

“Mom just texted and asked if you’d managed to drag Alessia out of here yet.” He kept his voice down and stood up, walking over so we could let Isla sleep. I stepped out into the hall and removed my ball cap. “You okay?”

“Sure.” I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I talked to Alex and Jamie. We’re doing a Grady Night this weekend at Mom and Dad’s. You know that means free babysitting.”

Jack chuckled quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he flicked a glance through the window to Isla’s room. “I’ll talk to Isla,” he murmured. “I’m not so naïve that I don’t believe we’ll be tired.”

“Fucking exhausted,” I agreed.

He slid his gaze back to me. “Why the rush, though?”

I shrugged and scratched my bicep. “We gotta celebrate, don’t we?”

He drew a deep breath and saw straight through me. He didn’t even bother narrowing his eyes, something he was great at when he sniffed out bullshit. Maybe he was too tired. Or maybe I was so goddamn pathetic in my quest to fill Alessia’s calendar with family shit that it was too easy, too obvious.

“Are you never going to talk to her?” Jack asked curiously, and I tensed up. “Be honest with me, Adam. You’re seriously just going to let her run off with someone she’ll be content with at best.”

“Don’t.” I clenched my jaw. I’d hidden my feelings for Alessia for longer than I cared to admit, and no one had so much as suspected anything until Isla barged into Jack’s life and assumed Alessia and I were together the very first time she met us. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I told him.

He hiked his brows. “Oh, I don’t?”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about her—” I gestured to the room where Isla slept “—and the babies, but it ain’t the same. Alessia is in every part of my life. We live together, we run Coho together—she’s my best friend. She’s my past, my present, and my future. If I lose her, I have nothing.” An invisible noose tightened around my neck, and I hauled in a breath. The mere idea of not having Alessia in my life was fucking crippling. “I won’t risk it,” I stated. “I live and breathe that girl.”

Something softened in my brother’s gaze. “She might not be your future, though.”

I didn’t need a reminder.

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This Life II

Title: This Life II

Author: Cara Dee (That’s me!)

Series: This Life, Book 2

Genre: MF Romance/Mafia Romance

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/thislife2-cdw
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/51473658-this-life-ii

Synopsis:

Finnegan O’Shea

My uncle had never deserved to be the boss of the Sons of Munster, and for the longest time I thought that pompous jackass was my worst nightmare. Then Gio Avellino sent a crew to Philly to take down the syndicate I’d just become the unofficial boss of. He’d kidnapped my uncle, put the love of my life in harm’s way, and…he’d murdered my mother.

So yeah, my first year as a married man was off to a rousing start—we were on the run, severely outnumbered, and I still hadn’t told my wife the truth about her own mother and her connection to the Avellino family.

Luck of the Irish? Uh-huh. I was gonna need a lot of that.

Emilia O’Shea

Was there such a thing as getting used to being married to a mobster? Finnegan lied and stole for a living, and trust didn’t come easy. If only the bastard hadn’t stolen my damn heart.

After spending the summer in hiding, I was ready to shoulder my role as the new matriarch of the family. Even though my husband’s mother’s shoes were impossible to fill, I would do my best and take on the responsibility with my own little twist. I couldn’t be the mother to everyone, but I could be a Daughter of Munster.

Because though I struggled with some aspects of Finnegan’s lifestyle, this was personal.

This was war.

Haven’t read This Life I yet? You can find it here: http://mybook.to/thislifeI

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Website: https://www.caradeewrites.com/

Website: https://www.camassiacove.com/

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6936449.Cara_Dee

This author tried to keep her mouth shut

I’ve been staring at this empty document for about twenty minutes now, and I’m still not sure how to phrase myself.

I should start by saying that I always shy away from drama. I wouldn’t say I keep my head down and chicken out from stating my opinions; I’ve just made the choice to focus on romance, on the books I write, and on characters.

That’s part of why I’m blogging today, because the issues, for lack of a better term, have reached characters and how we write them.

It’s unbelievable that an author has to say this, but here goes: I am not my characters. They are, however, a reflection of my view of society, and that includes all walks of life. I spend an insane amount of time on research in order to be able to stick to “write what you know.” I have written teachers, rock stars, bartenders, bipolar hockey players, autistic men and women, the rich, the poor, the homeless, and everyone in between. I seek out perspectives of those who know from experience, and I do my best to give a realistic portrayal–in most of my books. I’m not gonna lie, when I write BDSM, I put more energy in portraying kink than the occupation of the characters.

I’ve been lucky so far. I haven’t been involved in any platform-wide drama. My writing hasn’t been dragged through the mud. Yet, maybe. But every now and then, I receive a message from an angry reader, which I guess is unavoidable–we can’t please them all–and I choose not to make a big deal out of it. I choose to ignore it or address it privately.

Now I’m kinda done. Today’s political climate has become so infected, and we’ve seemed to have lost the plot when we go after fictional characters. My own political views don’t matter one bit when I write. I joke when I play the devil’s advocate with my friends and say I’m a bit of a political cocktail. Socially progressive, part classic liberal, part libertarian, with a twist of conservatism. Either way, I will write characters whose own opinions I disagree with.

For chrissakes, I made Casey in Path of Destruction and Uncomplicated Choices a Pepsi lover.

Pepsi!

#FakeSoda

Kidding aside, I have conservative characters and liberal characters and those who don’t give a flying fuck about politics. Politics rarely play a part in my books, though it’s there, like a current flowing underneath it all in some stories.

Which brings us to the use of language.

I’m currently writing This Life II, and side note, I’m having a blast writing a liberal woman with a conservative man. It doesn’t kidnap the main plot; it’s a source of banter, some eye-rolling, and discussion. The main plot…okay, there’s a lot going on in this trilogy, but it’s mafia romance. And you wanna know something bizarre?

Finnegan, the name of the hero, kills, steals, lies, and deceives for a living. No problem. Mafia romance is a popular genre, and we like reading bad boys who are devoted to one woman only. I’ve had so much fun researching his skillsets, and I haven’t thought twice about him committing murder or stealing. Then the other day, I came to a stop. I wrote something, and I leaned back and went, “Shit, can I really write that? Some will take offense.”

Here I was, writing a scene in which he is going to kill someone who’s scared his wife, and I hesitate because he called the enemy retard.

It’s nuts.

I’ve already put a leash on my boundaries if I consider altering the language for the sake of delicate readers.

I won’t do that.

Finnegan, an Irish mobster from Philly, will definitely use the word retard.

So did Dominic in Home. Because do you know who doesn’t care about being politically correct? A twenty-four-year-old guy who’s spent most of his adult years on the streets, trying to make a buck to go see his autistic daughter.

Speaking of Autism. As an autistic author, am I supposed to be offended by the use of this word?

I’m not. And even if I were, I’d use it. Because it fits certain characters and the world they grew up in.

It doesn’t fit into Adrian’s world. He’s the kind high-school teacher who teaches history and takes Dominic in. When Dominic uses the word retard, Adrian mutters a dry joke about how he throws books at his students for saying the “r-word.”

In the real world, perspectives meet–and sometimes crash–all the time. They do that, and will continue to do so, in my books too.

The next word is cunt. Or cunty. A few months ago, I actually received a message through my website from an anonymous reader. They claimed I should know better than to use the word cunty. Especially because I am a woman. Cunty is degrading to us. It was funny to me–you know, after the shock settled–that someone (a woman maybe?) would tell me, another woman, how to write, what is degrading to me. Pro tip: don’t police this woman’s  use of language for her characters.

I showed the message to a couple friends, and I wanted their honest opinion. Did I use the word poorly? Like, in the wrong place for the wrong person?

No.

The character in question, a working-class dude from New Jersey, had this word in his vocabulary. End of. And the irony in this specific scenario was so brilliant, because the guy had been in the middle of defending a woman when he used the word. But that didn’t matter. Intentions lost their meaning, and everything became about the word he used.

I started out as a fanfiction author, and many are waiting for me to rework another mafia series and publish it as an original, and to be honest, I’ve been dreading it. We’re talking full-on Sicilian/American mafia taking place in the ’70s up to present day in Las Vegas. No one will bat an eyelash at the bodies they bury in the desert, but then there’s the way they speak and how they treated their women…

I’m gonna write it, though. It’s what I do.

Now I’m going back to Finnegan and Emilia in This Life II. She’s pregnant and just had a glass of champagne.

–Cara

It’s here, it’s here, it’s here!

The Guy in the Window is LIVE!

Available in KU, paperback, and as ebook on Amazon!

Universal link riiiight HERE.

oOo

I was in the middle of my divorce when Adam messaged me. I believe his exact words were, “Hi. I think you’re my dad’s brother. Would you like to get to know me?”

My brother and I had never been close, so I’d only met his adopted son a few times when he was very young. Instinct told me to ignore the message, and I did. For a few days. It took an exhausting fight with my soon-to-be ex-wife and half a bottle of whiskey for me to change my mind.

Adam first became “sort of my nephew.” Next, he became the guy who helped me find an apartment in the building next to his. He was a sweet, cheerful young man doing his best to raise his four-year-old daughter, which led to him becoming the guy who wanted to help me patch up my relationship with my own daughter.

Then one night as I got ready for bed, I looked across the alleyway to the next building, where I saw him getting ready for bed too.

I couldn’t look away to save my life.

It was the night he also became the guy in the window.

And hey, if you don’t have anything to do tomorrow, you should totally stop by my FB group for release day shenanigans. I’m giving away paperbacks, tumblers, gift cards, ebooks, and…oh, and first aid kits! Because sometimes, books hurt us. (This one won’t, though!)

Until next time!

-Cara

Allowing myself to be proud

We have an unwritten rule and a culture in Sweden that’s so deeply imbedded in us that it always catches me off guard when I see authors promoting their own work. This rule, this culture, states, not-so-roughly translated, don’t believe you’re better than anyone else.

We’re not supposed to toot our own horn and boast about anything where the credit belongs to us.

You have to be modest, and it’s like that old…

“I love your shirt!”

“Oh, this old thing?” It’s brand new. “It was on sale.” It cost half a freaking fortune.

It goes without saying that I absolutely suck at promoting myself, and it’s been a problem since I started publishing. It just wasn’t something that was encouraged when I grew up. It’s a stupid culture, and I’m trying to let go of some of it. Because you know what? I’m proud of the characters I create in my head. I’m proud of the universes I build, and I’m proud of the work I put in when I research and keep track of all the tiny details.

The Game Series is a new universe. It’s The Touch Seres 2.0, not necessarily new and improved but certainly heavier and more developed. This kinkster community gets their freak on in DC, and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do. 🙂

Top Priority was the first novella, a prologue of sorts, yet it stands on its own. It centers around Lucas and Colt, two Daddy Doms who fall for each other despite the fact that their kinks don’t match. And now…the second book. Their Boy went live today(!), and we meet Lucas and Colt once more, this time from Kit’s point of view. It can also be fully enjoyed as a standalone; you don’t need Lucas and Colt’s background story.

Left all alone in the world—and in a very big house—after the loss of his parents, Kit Damien has struggled to find his place in society and in the kink community he longs to be a more active part of.

Daddy Doms Colt and Lucas have been a happy, committed couple for eight years. But two Tops need a bottom, and their quest for a Little to make their lives complete has led them to Kit’s empty doorstep.

But just as with his physical wounds, Kit’s emotional scars won’t heal overnight. Colt and Lucas must challenge him at every turn to force him to open up and let them in, to let them use their own individual methods to make him whole again. Together, the three will embark on a journey to learn about true love, growing up, the importance of sprinkles, and the rules of The Game that can make them all winners.

UNIVERSAL AMAZON LINK

So here’s me, promoting myself, and if Daddykink and triads are your jam, you should totally give Their Boy a chance.

*hyperventilates*

Nailed it!

What Happens When Both Love Interests Are Tops?

In a perfect world, Lucas West would meet someone in one of the BDSM communities he was active in, someone who ached for a Daddy Dom as much as Lucas longed for a Little to care for. They would date, play, build something that was just for them, and share a future together.

In a perfect world, Colt Carter would get through his next deployment and then move closer to DC where he could create at least a semblance of a personal life. He wanted something outside of the Air Force, something kinky, something worth leaving everything behind for eventually. For years, he’d kept his inner Sadist and Daddy Dom locked up, only letting him out to play on rare occasions.

In a perfect world…

In reality, Lucas and Colt met each other.

Available on Amazon, in KU, and paperback!

>>>Amazon Universal Link<<<

Top Priority is the first book in The Game Series, a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, two things are certain. This is not a perfect world, and life never turns out the way you planned.

Book 1, Top Priority, releases on August 27

Book 2, Their Boy, releases in September

Book 3, Breathless, releases around Christmas

Until next time!

Cara

 

I finished another book, and I’m tired

Typing “the end” in a book brings an insane amount of satisfaction. I get to ship it off to my editor and be done with it for a while. Then a few weeks of editing back and forth follow, not to mention I get sucked into the whole PR part of publishing books. It’s a busy time that keeps my mind occupied; I spend more time with readers, I take part in online festivities, and I host giveaways and etcetera.

Then it’s all over.

I sit back, a little unsettled, a little frazzled, a little numb, and I read some reviews. I play games on my phone. I sleep and eat. I’m a little quieter than usual.

The reviews for both Auctioned and Stranded have been humbling, and I crack a tired but genuine grin when a handful readers–on the actual release day–binge read and then ask me when the next book is out.

It’s flattering, exciting, and encouraging.

It’s also nuts! And I say that fondly.

Truth is, when it’s all over, it’s my turn to process. Without giving away any significant spoilers, I can say that this is when I’m sucked back into the book I just published. I’m on that island with Darius and Gray, or in the hospital with them, or on that small, chartered  plane toward new challenges. I can still feel the sand between my toes, the sweat trickling down my neck, and the sticky papaya juices on my fingers. I know what thunder smells like in the tropics and the pressure anxiety puts on my chest. Darius is still speaking in my head, and he’s worried about Gray. He’s also planning and strategizing; his mind is going a mile a minute, which means mine is too.

Writing a series poses new issues as well. Because Gray and Darius are far from done, and leaving things unfinished goes against my nature. Goddammit, feelings are being developed, and these two need each other.

But other books demand attention, and I have to walk away for a bit. I can’t let myself get invested in the next book yet, even though Darius and Gray have already set the course and told me the gist of what’s going to happen. Philly will be interesting, as will the developments in the human trafficking case that take Darius and Gray on a cross-country road trip to Joshua Tree in California.

The next book is called Deserted, and I shouldn’t be thinking about it. Or the characters that will be involved, most from Camassia, a couple from this place called Bakersfield, and of course we need more of Ryan. Maybe. Hmm. Fuck! No. I have other books to focus on now.

*grips hair in frustration*

I’m tired. I’m itching to write more, to take a break, to move on, and yeah, it does take a generous dose of insanity to be a writer, thank you for asking.

So I’m going to play games on my phone tonight, and then tomorrow…tomorrow I write other characters. Lani and Jax are about to get it on in the Alaskan wilderness or something.

Being able to write full-time and make a good living on it is a dream come true.

But damn, I’m tired.

And happy.

Oh, and the shameless plug part. If you like MM romance with action, with sweet-hurty angst, with suspense, and with two men who are balls deep in PTSD–and sometimes Darius in Gray–you should check out the Auctioned series. Auctioned, book 1, is on sale until tomorrow. Stranded, the second book, was released this week and is also on sale until tomorrow.

Until next time,

Cara