Kane’s classy James Bond suit

brioni vanquish








Kane is a classy dresser and his suits are in the $50,000 range.

For his evening out with Kenya, Kora and Jenni At the New York Metropolitan Opera, he sports the suit worn by James Bond himself.

Here is an excerpt from the book Billionaire’s Dark Romance – A BWWM BBW Alpha Male Book which will be available June 21.

“Tonight, I am in an adventurous mood and what better to wear than my Brioni Vanquish II. I had gladly coughed up forty five grand for the line of suits worn by James Bond himself. The suit is made by Italian luxury clothier Brioni from the super-luxurious Vanquish II fabric, a cloth produced by UK-based Dormeuil and the stitching is made of white gold. There are only about one hundred of these suits made each year.

I dress carefully, matching the suit with a light blue Ralph Lauren shirt and Vitaliano Pancaldi tie. No outfit is complete without the right footwear and after trying on about five pairs, I finally settles on the A. Testoni, the Norvegese style.

My dressing complete and feeling and looking at the top of my game, I head down to the garage, ready for my date with Kenya and the girls.

“Looking quite spiffy tonight, Mr. Arthurs.” My chauffeur greets me.

“Thank you, Chad.” I respond.

We turn out of the garage and cruise along the streets. I am running early, as is my tradition. The city looks gorgeous tonight. I love New York and I especially love Manhattan. There is something about this city that is unlike anywhere else in the world.

The girls are all dressing at Jenni’s place, making it easier to pick them up at one central point. I find myself wondering what Kenya will look like in the dress I had bought her for her birthday. At first, she had protested my purchasing such a pricy outfit.

“It’s way too expensive, Kane.” Had been her cry. “And I won’t have anywhere to wear it to, anyway.”

I had insisted, knowing fully well that the Gala was coming up and I intended to take her with me.

I have no doubt she will look dynamite, as will Kora and Jenni.

We pull up by the curb in front of the College apartment and I dial Kenya to let her know I have arrived. “We will be down in a minute.” She quickly responds.

True to her words, in a few minutes the girls step out of the building, looking newly minted. I almost gasp. They are all drop dead gorgeous. Kora is in a long-sleeve, lace sheath dress that looks simply divine. Jenni is stunning in a sequin illusion lace dress, while Kenya, ah Kenya, sizzles in a long-sleeved sequined evening gown that shows off her bountiful curves.

For once I am glad I have a vast appreciation of fashion.

I am out of the car in a flash. “Wow, my ladies are looking stunning.”

The girls blush. “And look at you Kane, Mr. James Bond himself…darling you look good enough to eat.” Kora gushes.

We all share a good laugh, while I give Kenya an extra squeeze. She has blown me away tonight. The dress is really not only expensive, but it is classy and sexy as hell.


Cover Reveal- Billionaire’s Dark Romance (BWWM Alpha Male BBW Book)


It’s finally ready. Here is the cover reveal of my new passionate, steamy romance novel “Billionaire’s Dark Romance (A BWWM BBW Alpha Male Book”.

This book is all about the romance between dashing Billionaire currency trader Kane Arthurs and the gorgeous, mysterious BBW Kenya Masters.

Kane is a womanizer who seems to finally meet his match in the alluring Kenya and their tale is filled with humor and steamy sex.

Here is an excerpt:

The hot water cascades sensuously down my chest, evoking a familiar stirring of my loins. My eyes are closed, and for some reason the figure of Kenya Masters flashes before my eyes. Her statuesque, round, curvy body sends my heart a racing a million miles an hour.

In a few hours I will be seeing her again and I am anticipating another battle of wits.

I am baffled that I am this much attracted to her, physically. She is so far removed from the women I normally go for. The fact that she is black is even more perplexing. In my twenty eight years, I have yearned after many things, but skinny Asian, Latinos and whites have always been on the top of my list. I have never had sex with a black woman…much less a curvy one…My anticipation is at its peak.

Images of Kenya’s tender flesh… my shaft knifing into her… the look of passion on her face, invade my mind and I quickly snap out of it, lest I be tempted to masturbate, something I haven’t done since my teen years. Since becoming a man, there has always been a woman available at my beck and call.

I turn off the tap and step out of the shower. I grab a towel and gently run it across my expansive chest. I am proud of my muscular, athletic body. I like the power it wields over women and the way they swoon when they see me naked.

I glance at the clock. It’s a quarter to nine. Kenya said she and the girls would be heading out to The Den at about nine thirty and I just get the feeling that she will be bang on time. That’s the kinda girl I figure her to be.

Now fully dry, I venture over to the massive walk-in closet and open its doors. I love clothes. I love to dress and I am crazy about fashion. I like to look hip and trendy. It’s part of the image. It comes with the territory.

Tonight I play to blow Kenya’s socks off at our “chance encounter”, so I have to be at my best.

I choose a pair of dark slacks, which fits just perfectly and long-sleeved green Versace shirt. I leave a few buttons open on the top to show off a whiff of my chest hair.

Next it’s time to accessorize. I don’t want to overindulge, so I choose a thin gold chain with a small crucifix attached and a gold bracelet which cost me a small fortune. For footwear, I settle with the diamond studded Aubercy. I have never worn it before and have been looking for the right occasion to debut the fine pair of shoes. I just found that occasion.

I snap on my newest Rolex to complete the transformation, step back and look into the mirror. I like what I see. I am ready to become the hunter tonight.

All that’s left is to choose the cologne for the evening and it can be none other than my Clive Christian No.1, the limited Imperial Majesty Edition, of course. The ultimate panty dropper. I have a couple of the last few bottles of this gem remaining on earth and use it only for very special occasions.

I spray it on and sniff the amazing scent. I am ready. Trade Kenya Masters is about to begin.

At nine twenty five I close the apartment door and amble into the private elevator. I have a thing about private elevators. They get you where you want to go in a jiffy. No waiting around and stopping at different floors.

Downstairs in the foyer I am greeted by Carlos the affable doorman.

“Evening Mr. Arthurs, Sir.”

“Evening, Carlos.” I slide a hundred dollar bill into his outstretched palm. I am in generous mood tonight.

“Thank you, Sir. Thank, you.” Carlos is beaming and opens the door for me.

It’s a nice evening outside, not too hot or cool, just the right temperature.

I am looking good and feeling good and all that’s left is to choose the right vehicle. Chad, my lead chauffeur, rolls around in with the Koenigsegg Agera R sports car, priced at just a shade over a million and a half, and among the ten most expensive cars in the world.  This baby goes from zero to sixty kilometres per hour in under three seconds and is capable of reaching a maximum speed of 418 kilometers per hour, but was electronically limited to 378 kph. I had to sign a waiver, only then did the creators unlock the speed limited. The car is a fucking beast.

I smile to myself. The machine is a sight to behold. I have driven it just once before and the excitement it stirred made me consider never driving it again. Until tonight.

Chad is smiling as he exits the car and offers me the key.

“Mr. Arthurs, I thought you had forgotten about the Agera R. You haven’t driven it in ages.” He winks at me. “Must be a rather special occasion tonight?”

I laugh out loud. “You bet it is Chad…you bet.”

I slide into the driver’s seat and race the engine for a second. The vehicle roars like a tiger. I like the feeling of power it exudes under the hood. It take a powerful creature to tame another powerhouse. Kenya as meeting her match tonight.

I slip into drive and roar down the streets. All eyes are on me as I cruise the streets of Manhattan on my way to The Den. Motorists and pedestrian alike gawk at the vehicle, especially the women. I look to my left and see a cute blonde smiling at me. Any other time and I would have been tempted to stop and chat her up. But not tonight. Tonight, I have one prey in mind and her name is Kenya Masters.

I have The Den in my sights in pretty quick time. I stop the vehicle, surveying the crowd from a distance. There is a line stretching around the corner, just as I figured there would be. It is one of the hardest clubs to get into in New York. You either have to have a membership, which was awarded to a privileged few, mainly celebrities or the filthy rich, or be pretty enough to catch the eye of the door man.

It is time for lights, camera, action. I race up to the entrance in the Koenigsegg Agera R, and all hell breaks loose. All eyes turn to the car. Mouths pop open, jaws drop in fascination.

I sit in the car for effect, slowly opening the door. As I step out three valet race over, each trying to be the one to get a chance to park my ride. I am in prime form, dressed and ready for the role I am about to play.

I toss the key to the winner. “Just don’t dent my baby.” I shoot at him.

“No…sir.” He stammers back.

I cast a curious eye at the people in the line, trying to pick out Kenya and her posse and sure enough I spot them in the corner of my eyes, but pretend not to notice. I am sure my arrival had had its desired effect.

“Kane…Kane,” I hear my name being shouted out in the distance. It’s Kora of course, I would recognize her voice anywhere.

I stroll toward the direction of the voice. Sure enough it’s her.

“Hey hi Kora…hi ladies, fancy running into you here. It’s a small world.” I venture, trying not to laugh, knowing fully well that Kenya knows the truth that I am not here by chance…that I knew they would be here.

I look at Kenya. Our eyes lock for an instant. She has a bemused look on her face, as if not knowing what to make of my entrance. I quickly turn my attention to Kora and the other girl, a drop dead gorgeous creature, who resembles a magazine cover girl.

“Kane…you sure know how to make an appearance man.” Kora gushes. “That car is the bomb, dude.”

I smile again. I haven’t been called dude in a long time.

“What are you all doing in the line, come here and join me. Let me take you inside.” I make an offer I know they cannot refuse. Before Kenya could object, Kora and the other girl slip the entrance rope and head towards me. She has no option but to follow them.

Once beside me, Kora catches a whiff of the Clive Christian No. 1, which is really hard to miss.

“Damn you smell good, Kane.” The effervescent Kora blurts out.

“Thank you, thank you.” I retort, bowing to mock applause.

Kenya smiles, while Kora cracks up.

“Kane, these are Kora and Jessi. My two besties. Girls, this is Kane Arthurs, king of the Forex traders and from what I hear, quite the ladies man, so be careful around him.” Despite herself Kenya laughs again, her eyes zeroing in on mine, defiantly.

“Kora and Jessi, don’t believe everything you hear. I am just an ordinary guy from The Bronx, who got lucky.” I am enjoying the byplay with Kenya.

The introductions out of the way, I take a closer look at the girls, chattering excitedly among themselves. I catch Kora glancing at me admiringly every few seconds. At the moment she seems the one most smitten.

I stare at Kenya for a minute. Drinking in her beauty. She is dressed in a short, tight, black dress, with a plunging neckline, that shows off just a small section of her bountiful breasts. The dress fits her perfectly, accentuating her curvaceous body. Her make-up is perfectly applied. Everything about her reeks of class.

“So Kane, do you think you can handle a night out with three energetic women?” Kenya interjects, snapping me back to reality.

“Of course I can. Didn’t I tell you they call me Mr. Energy at the gym?”

The girls laugh. Kenya’s tongue gently licks against her lips for an instance, but does not escape my detection.

“Kane, are you a real live billionaire?” Kora enquires gleefully, a twinkle in her eyes.

“I have a few dollars in my bank account.” I laugh at the question.

“You see Kora, money is a perception. It’s something out there in cyberspace. One bad trade and it could be gone tomorrow and I am back on the streets of Brooklyn.” I let that sink in as the girls look on. Kenya’s eyes are wide open.

“So, let’s say for the moment I am financially secure and I try to enjoy the ride while it lasts.”

I glance at Kenya and see that the look in her eyes is softening. She is warming to me.

All eyes are on us as we stroll towards the entrance. The girls are holding hands. We make a striking foursome.

The doorman and bouncer hurriedly open the roped off VIP section and let us enter. I am sure they are not aware of who I am, but after driving up in the Koenigsegg Agera R and dressed the part, they figure I must be someone important.

I nod to the doorman and bouncer and palm them both a hundred. Their eyes light up. I guarantee they will not forget my face, no matter what vehicle I drive up in next time.

“Somebody has major contacts.” Jenni whispers in my ears. I smile and shrug at the comment.

“I am sure not as much as you.” I whisper back, breaking out into laughter.

We walk down a red carpeted section. A well-dressed man in a suit, welcomes us and escorts us upstairs to a waiting table, with a view of all the action downstairs.

I have heard about The Den, which had opened just a few months before, but hadn’t gotten around to attending as yet. I like the feel and energy of the place. The dance floor downstairs is crowd by what appears to be the upwardly mobile crowd, while the bartenders are weaving their magic.

We sit at our table. Kora is seated next to me to my right and Jessi to my left. Kenya’s takes up the seat farthest away from me, by her design I realize.

“Are you having a good time, Kane?” Jessi squeezes my arms, her green eyes twinkling in a kaleidoscope of colors. The girl has creamy white skin and is drop dead gorgeous. It take an effort not to stare at her.

“I am having an amazing time, Jessi.” I give her my toothpaste commercial smile and touch her on her shoulder in return. Her eyes sparkle even more. While I am chatting to Jessi, I am watching Kenya’s reactions out of the corner of my eye. She has a thoughtful look her face.

“Which man wouldn’t be, surrounded by three gorgeous young women?” I added.

The reply pleases Jessi and she giggles like a high school girl.

A young male waiter makes his way over to our table. He has a bottle of champagne in hand.

“Good evening, my name is Denver and I will be your waiter for the evening and if there is anything I can get you, anything at all, just give me a holla.” The waiter is all smiles, but his eyes are fixed on me. Obviously the word about the high roller who drives a very expensive car has filtered down the ranks.

“A bottle of Cristal for you and the ladies.” He chimes, in that college student tone. “Compliments of house for you and your guests, Mr…..”

“Arthurs.” The girls chime in in unison, belting out peals of laughter.

“Thank you, Denver.” I mouth off.

Denver pops the cork and proceeds to pour the bubbly into four champagne flutes, he has placed on the table.

Kenya clenches her glass.

“I toast to my Besties.” She purrs. “To the two best friends a girl could ever have.”

We all raise our glasses and clink them for a toast. Kenya gulps hers down in one drink. I look at her in amazement.

Don’t tell me she has a wooden leg, too.

I sip slowly, trying to enjoy the taste of my champagne. I like the feel of the bubbly tickling my throat. It’s well chilled, just the way I want it.

“So Kenya, tell me a little about you?” I enquire, trying to be heard above the noise from the music and chatter around.

She leans towards me.

“What, I can’t hear you properly?”

You could if you came and sat beside me.

“Kane, why don’t you take Kenya down to the dance floor? Then you guys can get to talk all you want?” It’s Kora’s voice.

I look up, Jenni seems a trifle disappointed.

I begin to rise. I have Kenya where I want her. She can’t say no… not this time, without seeming rude.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” My arms are outstretched towards her.

Kenya gets up from her comfy seat. I skirt around Kora, until I am beside her. I take her hand  and lead her downstairs. The touch of our fingers sends a thrill down my spine. Her hands are soft, yet firm; just the kind a man would want rummaging all over his body.

Kenya don’t ply away her hands, as we descend the stairs. Pit Bull’s “Fire Ball” is blasting through the speakers as we walk down the stairs arm in arm. Kenya bobs her head from side to side, caught up in the beat and lyrics.

I am no professional dancer, but I have been told that I have good rhythm. On the dance floor though, Kenya’s is on another level. She begins to move in tandem with the beat, her body gyrating sensuously. I start to move, but just barely. I am totally transfixed, as the club light reflects off her perfect form.

Kenya pulls me towards her.

“What’s happened Kane, cat got you tongue?”

She dances away again and I dance after her. I catch her. “No, just you. You are absolutely beautiful.”

Kenya laughs and breaks free of my grasp, twirling and skanking to the beat. She is laughing, then grabs her hair and pulls it up as he gets down to the floor and back up.

I try my best to keep up with her feverish pace, and receive a nod of approval.

Mercifully the beat changes and a slow dance number comes on.

It’s my turn now.

I draw her towards me, leading her. She tries to change the steps so she can lead, but I hold her tight.

I need to have my way.

Eventually she succumbs to my movements.




Billionaire’s Dark Romance (BWWM Alpha Male BBW Book)

billionaire arms-crossed-bow-tie-braces

Billionaire’s Dark Romance  (BWWM Alpha Male BBW Book) will be available on Amazon Kindle  next Tuesday. Today we introduce Kane Arthurs, self- made Billionaire and ladies man. Kane grew up on the tough streets of the Bronx, but his sharp, analytical mind helps him to become a whiz forex currency trader and create a financial and real estate empire.

Kane loves fashion and dresses in the most expensive Bespokes, drives a fleet of  luxury vehicles, including a custom built Jaguar convertible, McLaren and Range Rover.

He has a passion for slim, beautiful models and is the ultimate Alpha male, used to having things his own way. Then he meets Kenya Masters, a Junior at New York University School of Business and sparks fly. But there is one problem, Kenya is bright, opinionated and not the least bit interested in him. Plus she is thick, curvy and black.

Here are some paragraphs from the book:

“She is one of the most beautiful women I have beheld and trust me I have seen many. But what surprisingly gets my juices flowing most of all, is her figure. I say surprisingly, because she is not the sort of girl I normally go for. I like white or Latino, slim model types and this girl is definitely not in that category.

“She is certainly not skinny…. though not plump by any means. She is thick, with meat on her bones, but with curves that seems never ending. A typical coca cola bottle shape.

“And, most uncharacteristic for me…she is black.

And here is Kane:

“Miss Masters. I drive a 2015 custom built Jaguar Convertible. I have a Bentley, a McLaren and several other cars in my garage. I own houses in Switzerland, Jamaica, London, Paris and in other countries too numerous to mention.”

I pause for effect. There is none on her face. Just that same smirk, as if she is testing me.

“I did not get these by being safe. Safe is for those who want to have a nice, normal, comfortable life, with husbands or wives and kids in the suburbs. The go-getters grab for the jugular and have the guts to play the market, not let it play them.” I pause again to let the effect of my words sink in.

“You see Miss Masters, when there are tens of millions of dollars at stake…while others are sweating and deliberating whether to pull the trigger, I calmly make my trade. I would have done my research with my team, have my system in place and have the confidence to trust my system.” It takes nerves of steel to do what I do.

Subscribe to my mailing list at this blog for more exclusive updates and  much much more.

Also check out

 Caribbean Passion 


The Other Twin





Caribbean Passion is now available on Amazon Kindle


My labor of love, Caribbean Passion (Interracial BMWW Romance Series Book 1) is now available on Amazon Kindle.

I am so excited to share it with all of you. The book  received 364 free downloads in three days so I am super happy that readers are now enjoying it. It also has four  5 stars reviews on Amazon as well as reviews on Goodreads.

I am now just ready to seriously start promoting the book, so look out for much more.

It’s a passionate love story for the ages, of a Jamaican male having a torrid love affair with a beautiful New York heiress. Check it out at


I am also close to completing the next book in the series. Watch out for that.

ONE LOVE from sunny Jamaica.



Is romancing twins the ultimate fantasy?

The_Other_Twin betterIs making love to a set of identical twins the ultimate fantasy?

The subject of twins and their loves and love affairs is an interesting topic. I found it so fascinating that I decided to write a Short Story about it. It became the subject of my debut short book , a quick read called The Other Twin. I will be releasing it on Amazon Kindle this weekend and will inform you when it is available for free. Here is a sneak peek from chapter 1. I would love to hear your feedback.


They say having an identical twin is the nearest thing to peering into your own soul.

Sure, they also say that identical twins share a special, unbreakable bond.

Well, am here to tell you that’s baloney.

You see, I am half of the twin sisters they call the Johnson twins and from as far back as in mommy’s womb I have hated the fact that I was a twin.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate my twin sister, I just hated the fact that half of me went into making someone else.

Can you imagine being conceived and looking forward to being your own person, then in an instant you are split in two, with the other half of yourself having a mind and organs of her own? Pretty creepy if you ask me, but such is the joy and mystery of nature, so who am I to question the higher powers.

Let’s be honest here… all my life I have felt like half of a person. It was like I had been dissected and the other half lived in my house, slept in the bunk bed on top of me. On top of mine for Christ sake. Why did I always have to be number two?

So who am I? Well, I am Sylvia Johnson and I think I am envious, or should I say insanely jealous of my twin sister, Paula. This emotion festered from all those months when we were connected in the womb together. Talk about someone being in your intimate space.

You see, Paula got the prized position in the womb; that of being nearest to mommy’s heart. I didn’t like that one darn bit. I wanted to be the one who could fall asleep to the gentle, rhythmic beating of mom’s organ of love.

We were rivals even then. Paula was always the one pigging out on most of the nutrients we got via mom’s placenta. That’s the reason, I think, that she was born a tad bigger than me. Thank God I caught up quickly.

So what else could have gotten worse? You may ask. Well, as fate would have it, Paula was the first- born. Mind you, it was just by a few minutes, but yes she had bragging rights. She would always be elder twin.

Look out for the book this weekend. Irie mom.




The sexy allure of Island romance

interracial-213698_1280It’s an open secret that many men and women visit the Caribbean islands looking for not just the wonderful tropical climate and gorgeous powdery white sandy beaches, but for romance …and let’s call a spade a spade…for sex.

For many, the islands possess a romantic allure, with their promise of hedonistic delights, sexually charged rum cocktails with erotic names such as “sex on the beach”; the friendliness of the people and the promise of thrilling sexual adventures.

The images of the island male with the fabled “big bamboo” and the females who can move their hips like a rotating  top, have been advertised in spades on the big screen, in romance novels and, of course, in the Caribbean music. Is it any wonder therefore, that the islands hold promise of quixotic enchantment for many who reside outside their realms?

There is just something about the island atmosphere, sunsets, people that brings out the romantic in you.

As a Caribbean youth growing up in the island of Jamaica, I witnessed the hanky-panky first -hand, particularly on the North Coast which encompasses the tourism belt. These are areas such as Montego Bay, Ocho Rios and Negril, where residents earn a living predominantly from the tourism dollar.

I saw it at the clubs, where the female tourists are fair game for the local studs; or the local nubile young women who, for financial reasons or otherwise, go ape over foreign men. Check out the opening scene in my upcoming novel Caribbean Passion (Book 1 of the Island Romance Series). This is an everyday occurrence in our fair Isle.

Many of my friends wanted to have relationships with foreign women for two main reasons: the sex… as they felt that those women were more adventurous sexually than the Jamaican girls; or they wanted to meet a well-to-do woman who would marry them and eventually take them back to the USA or Europe.

The “foreign mind’ mentally thrives in the island, as many natives see this as a way towards a better life. It’s their way of escaping from current financially problems and creating a brighter future for themselves and families.

I have talked with many women visiting our shores who were drawn by the lure of island life or the romanticism of island passion. They wanted to meet a local man and experience the joys of natural living. This is one of the main reasons why they gravitate towards the local Rastafarian men. The Rastas, with their long, flowing dreadlocks and their natural lifestyle, offer the ultimate appeal. (See Caribbean Desire Book 3 of the Island Romance series for a peek into this relationship).

Female tourists enjoy hanging out in the hilly interior of the island with the Rastas, living off the land and eating natural food. To them this is the hedonistic dream and a very different experience from the sophisticated metropolitan men that they are used to dating.

For others the Caribbean offers a chance for a romantic affair, no questions asked and no romantic ties. It is the perfect fantasy location for them to have their cake and eat it.

coconut-palm-312433_1280Tourists are also captivated by the sexuality of the island music. In Jamaica it’s reggae or dance hall, featuring the hypnotic, enchanting beat of the bass line. On the island they have wild, outlandish parties accentuated by the pungent smell or marijuana and local rum. These are the ultimate native sex or romance venues, where couples cling tightly to each other while gyrating to the beat. You have to witness a Jamaican dance hall scene personally to understand what I am describing.

I have also spoken to many tourists, particularly the Caucasian ones, who confess to be captivated by the sexuality of the island males: their dark skin, naturally muscular physique and sexual stamina… being able to performing at an optimum level for long periods of time. Local parlance for this phenomenon is “long distance stullah”. More on that anon.

In my next blog post I will definitely write and tell my readers about the natural sexual enhancing food that the local men and women eat. You will find it very interesting.

It’s not just in Jamaica, however, where the music hints of sexuality. The Soca or calypso music prevalent in the Eastern Caribbean and more particularly Trinidad and Tobago, is filled with sexually suggested lyrics and the dances are all about moving the waistline and the swaying of the hips. Island music is sexy, no two ways about that.

The Caribbean holds many exciting features for visitors to our shores, The 4 s: Sun, Sea, Sand and Sex are very much alive and thriving. So why not come on down and experience for yourselves.







I am an incurable romantic and I am proud

beach drink - incurable romantic blog”We shall be notes in that great Symphony
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,
And all the live World’s throbbing heart shall be
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years
Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,
The Universe itself shall be our Immortality!”

  • - Oscar Wilde


I am an incurable romantic and I am proud.

I love to read romance novels. I love to romanticize. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to sit in a fine restaurant, enjoying a romantic gourmet meal in the company of my partner. Shrimp…lobster…bring it on.

The shadows cast by candle light during a soulful kiss or a stolen glance at the dinner table, is one of the joys of being alive. The flickering imaginary figures of shadows cast take on a life of their own, as if paying homage to the occasion.

There are few greater moments of ecstasy  than being at home, feet up,  a glass of my favorite Yellowtail Shiraz in hand…Marvin Gaye crooning “Let’s Make Love Tonight” in the background and the gentle beating of raindrops on the roof. Ahh…the joys of romantic folly.

With romance being a part of my soul, it was a no-brainer then, when about a year ago, I finally decided to start writing a romance novel. I wanted to share my perceptions of love, sex and romance with my readers and friends. After all, love makes the world go round.

I was inspired to write my books when reading J. S. Scott and her Billionaire Series;  Deborah Bladon and her Run Series  and of course the sinfully delicious 50 Shades of Grey books, as well as countless others too numerous to mention here.

You see, for me and I think for a lot of men, it’s a pleasure opening the door for a woman; running around to the passenger’s side and making sure she is properly secured. It’s a simple matter of always putting the ladies first. As a hopeless romantic that’s  just  my way of life.

Love coupon - for incurable romatic blogI remember several males observing the way I treat my partner and asking me if I was crazy. Naw, am not. I simply choose to pay homage to God’s greatest creation: women. After all, what would the world be without them.

I am very passionate too. Making love is all about patience and realizing that your partner’s pleasure is equal to, if not even more important than your own.

Romance is a long, leisurely evening in the bedroom, curling up to a good movie, feeding each other grapes and sharing tender kisses. These are the sort of stuff that tickle my fancy.

I am so glad to be a part of the legions of romance book readers and writers and sharing in the various forums. The world is a much better place because of you.

This is my first blog post and the start of many and all of them will be in some  way connected with romance or the perception of romance.

As a Caribbean male I offer a different perspective. We are fun-loving; we are passionate; we are brash and we love hard. The island males work hard and play hard.  We are not a people of half-measures.

The upcoming Island Romance Series will be all about the romance and passion that surges when the Caribbean and the First World collide. The Series opens with Caribbean Passion in January.

In the meantime, enjoy by debut novel, It’s a short story called  The Other Twin, a prelude to the Island Romance Series and will be available on Amazon Kindle December 20.

Welcome to the world of Caribbean Romance Author.