My Husband Poses For Playgirl…I Mean My Book Promo.

4 years later, the post I did featuring pics of my hubby wearing a towel is still #1 on my blog. If my books got as many hits, I’d be a best-selling author. Ha! Funny that. The book he’s holding is SLEEPY WILLOW’S HEARTLESS SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 2). On Nov. 15, 2016, I released my 10th book, SLEEPY WILLOW’S REDEEMED SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 4). So, as you can see, I’m still on my grind. Thanks for checking out this blog post. Hope you’ll check out my book links as well.

Dicey's Blog

**Updated 11-27-16**
Hubby got tired of me ogling half-naked men online and decided to pose for my lens himself. Guess he wanted to remind me what I had at home. Whoa, baby! I remember! The best part is that I got him to read my third novel: SLEEPY WILLOW’S HEARTLESS SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 2). Win-win for me.

Don’t mind me. I’ll just post a few more pics while I tell you about an interview I did with [redacted on 11-27-16 due to the 3rd party’s blog being deleted]. See my most recent interview here from August 19, 2016.

I also have The National Black Book Festival coming up on June 9th. So if you’re in the Houston, TX area, come check me out. It’ll be a first for me, and yes, I’m nervous. Everybody there will know Eric Jerome Dickey (I’ll be waiting in line for him to sign…

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Today is My #BookRelease Day and I’m STOKED…

swrs-release-day-blog-post…for now.

I have to ride this natural high for as long as possible… before the dreaded depression sets in.

You: Huh? Depression? What are you talking about, Dicey?

Me: It’s true. I work hard to write original stories, to convey my innermost demons in such a way that they can be understood and entertaining. I put in countless hours, writing when most of the world is asleep. Sometimes, I neglect other duties for the sake of focusing on my passion. I immerse myself in my characters and their worlds, and I make sure I’ve edited it well.

So when I’m done writing a story from beginning to end, I’m super excited. Over the fucking moon, excited. I’m on top of the world, because I KNOW I’m a bonafide #badass. You know it too, because you’ll congratulate me. You’ll tell me how much I inspire you. You’ll ask for my assistance in writing your own book and getting it out to the public. And an even smaller number of you, who actually read my books, will buy it immediately. You want to not only support me as an artist, but you want to enjoy my latest work.

Thank you! I love you.

What you don’t know is that a day or so later, after my book is out, my feeling of accomplishment dies. I need to do something else to make up for my feelings of failure. Yes. Within days after achieving something so remarkable, I feel like a failure. Believe me–I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s the truth.

You: Dicey, how is this possible?

Me: Because you don’t see how bad I want it. IT. Success. How badly I want to be recognized for my work. How badly I want to be appreciated. How badly I want to NOT be mediocre. I don’t want to just sell a few books and get a handful of reviews. I want the WORLD to read my filth and have an opinion about it, good or bad. I want my books to be discussed, and for “Dicey Grenor” to be a well-known author name like so many others that don’t have anything more special to contribute to the literary world than I do. I think my work is up to par. What I don’t have is the wide net that others do, and that bothers me. It does.

I swear to god, I am working so hard at staying positive. My husband will tell you all the things I go through that YOU don’t see. Focusing on those of you who share my work and show appreciation is difficult, because I’m OCD enough to see the ones who aren’t and won’t. The ones who have their hands out aaallll the time asking what I can do for them, and won’t bother to support me. I SEE THEM. I see the ones who I’ve supported through the years and how they ignore my achievements, MY requests for support. And I’m trying my damnedest not to. I want to ignore them and see YOU, my supporters. Okay? I’m working on that. If I get it right this time, maybe I can avoid the depression stage. I want that for myself. I deserve it.

You don’t know how bad I want to ignore that some folks in my feed shared Rachel Dolezal’s book in mockery of her being a white woman capitalizing off the black experience, while I, as a black female writer, can’t get them to share a link about my book not even once. They won’t like my FB author page. Won’t like an IG post. Nothing. But they shared her book. They don’t even realize they gave her publicity and perpetuated the very thing they want to extinguish. But it’s okay. I had some pretty supportive friends, who did not share her book, but made sure I had a voice today. While you’re out screaming “fight the power” and doing nothing to help black artists, I’m doing my best to focus on the folks who actually support this marginalized writer. It’s hard, but I’m going to try harder.

With that in mind, here’s some good news: I had 60 people give me permission to tag their FB pages with my book promo today–YAY! That’s progress from the blip in the social mediasphere I’ve made in the past. I reached out to two authors privately that I’ve supported in the past and haven’t chatted with in a while, and one agreed to help. That’s progress. I got some retweets on Twitter and some faves on IG. That’s all progress.

Each of you who showed your support for my T E N T H book release today (SLEEPY WILLOW’S REDEEMED SOUL, The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 4), my first in two years, have my heartfelt gratitude. I hope you and some of your friends will gSleepyWillow'sBondedSoul.Ebookive my books a chance. I’m going to keep doing what I love. I’m going to keep trying to stay positive about it. I hope you’ll be part of this process, but that’s your choice. I’ll tell you what though–if you’re not, don’t come looking for my help later. Deal?

If you’re new to my books, and want to start at the beginning of my erotic urban fantasy series, I’d be happy to have you as part of my fandom. This is SLEEPY WILLOW’S BONDED SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 1).

If you’re feeling particularly inspired to support me, this is The Narcoleptic Vampire Series box set of the first five books in the series:

Dicey_Box_Set 3D Cover


October 1st. #Halloween Guest Post~Author @keke_chanel #paranormal #book

September was a busy month. I went to a few metal concerts, celebrated my 42nd birthday, and worked, worked, worked, worked, worked. You know how it is. I blogged less, but chronicled most of it on IG and Twitter. That was just easier.

Today, Oct. 1st, I’d like to start the month off right, sharing something appropriate for Halloween, my favorite “holiday” season. Author KeKe Chanel just released a book entitled, Silence, and I think you’re going to love it.

Dicey: Tell me why Silence is the perfect novel for Halloween.

KeKe: If you love a good paranormal suspense, my book Silence is the perfect novel for Halloween. If you are looking for a book that isn’t your typical suspense plot. It will leave you on the edge of your seat, trying to figure out what’s happening in the mysterious town of Milledgeville. Silence captures your attention, attacking your imagination page by page. You won’t be able to focus on anything else once you read the first page. Just when you think you know, another element of surprise takes you on an emotional rollercoaster. I dare you to curl up under your favorite blanket, in your favorite reading spot and enter a mysterious world of intrigue, infused with heightened unpredictability. Silence is a must-read, sure to become a welcomed addition to your Halloween traditions.  Savannah Rose awaits…

Dicey: Congrats on the book release, KeKe! I love paranormal suspense and can’t wait to dig in. Thanks for gracing my blog today. Have a Happy Halloweeeeeeen!


Brief Synopsis: Silence

Savannah Rose was abducted from the Milledgeville County Fair when she was only eight years old. After searching for several months, all hope of ever finding her alive vanished. Her body was never found.

The town grieved the loss of such an amazing little girl, yet someone knows what really happened that day. When Savannah Rose returns, she isn’t quite what the people she encounter imagines. She isn’t the sweet, cheerful, happy little girl they once knew.

Savannah Rose roams freely, thundered with vengeance, stalking the people of Milledgeville for her life being stolen from her in the worse way possible. In her mind, they must pay! As Savannah Rose unleashes her wrath, secrets meant to be kept hidden forever are exposed.

Total damnation lives in the woods surrounding the quiet, close-knit town. It is up to the remaining founding-family members to keep the deal made by their ancestors intact before destruction wipes them off the map.

Seeking revenge on the town’s residents for not protecting her and finding out the true identity of her abductor is the only way Savannah Rose gains any sense of justice and peace. Will she solve the misery of her death so that she can finally transition or will her spirit stay trapped forever? Will the town of Milledgeville still exist once her mission is complete or perish before making good on the oath taken centuries ago?


Excerpt From Silence 

A soft thump caught his attention. It was darker in the backyard than Bobby remembered. The few lights surrounding him flickered, but he didn’t think much of it. Sometimes the lights did seem to have a mind of their own on their property.

The still of the night soothed Bobby, comforting his weary soul. He sipped his brown liquor allowing the robust taste to carry all of his troubles away. Bobby closed his eyes and exhaled. Suddenly, the wind began to howl, and the stars vanished. Rolling clouds of gray made the sky look as if it was about to reach down and collar him. The forecast hadn’t predicted any inclement weather. Then again, summer nights in Milledgeville were unpredictable.

“What is happening tonight?” Bobby said in a murmur. His eyes scanned the night. Dancing shadows caught his attention in the nearby woods surrounding his property. Rubbing his hand down his face, Bobby shook his head. He was tripping. Drinking alone always made his mind see things that weren’t there. Maybe it was time to join his brothers inside. Just as he was about to make his way toward the back door of the house, something stopped him dead in his tracks. Bobby wiped his eyes. Clearly, he was more than a few levels past tipsy.

Everything around him became calm, silent. Bobby’s eyes darted back and forth. Staggering toward the house, he paused to keep his balance. He could feel a presence close in proximity. He wasn’t alone. The shadows in the woods continued to dance, mocking him. Bobby nearly stumbled and fell. Light whispers engulfed him causing his heart to nearly jump out of his chest. He was unable to move. Although he told his mind to haul ass, his body wasn’t listening.

He focused his eyes. It couldn’t be. There standing, only inches from him was the little girl he had just been thinking about.

“I really should stop drinking,” Bobby said laughing at his paranoia. His brothers were trying to scare him.

“Bart, Blue, Bill and Bull, you sons-of-bitches must want a good old fashion kick in the ass. Stop playing around! I’m in no mood for games tonight,” Bobby called out in a long frustrated slur. He waited until one of them answered or started laughing, but that never came. Instead, walking out of the darkness with eyes that emitted embers was Savannah Rose. She fixated her attention directly on him, ensnaring him in her visage.

“What are you doing here? You’re dead! We left you bleeding to death that day. You can’t be real,” Bobby yelled in a frantic tone.

Savannah Rose didn’t dignify him with a response. She lifted her arm and flung it to the left causing Bobby’s body to go flying through the air. He landed next to an old pickup truck. He howled in pain. She moved toward him using her force to break each window. Glass shattered about, some cutting Bobby on his arms, face, and legs. He used his hands to shield his head. His fingers stung from the shards of glass nicking them.

The impact of the breaking glass should have been enough to get his brothers to check on him. Where were they when he needed them? The more he called for help, the more the silence submerged him. No one could hear him. No one would hear him.

About Author Keke Chanel

KeKe Chanel grew up in the small town of Greensburg, Louisiana in a home filled to the brim with siblings and personalities, so it’s a wonder how she found a quiet space for anything. “I hid under my bed.” That’s the answer she is likely to give if ever asked how she managed it. Sharing a house with three other children was very trying at times. Yet, KeKe always found solace in a book. In fact, she credits her aunt for instilling within her a great love for reading. It is what has brought her this far in the often tedious and exhausting quest for publication.

In third grade, KeKe began writing poetry. Over time, her collection of notebooks expanded as did her love for the art of writing. In 2006, she started work on her first book “Wicked Love” which will be released sometime in the near future. Many more books have been penned since then. However, Deadly in Stilettos is the first to be released. The years of waiting were hard, but KeKe considers herself nothing if not determined. This young author is ready to share her incredible talent -and Deminis Bradshaw’s red bottoms- with the rest of the world.

Starting a blog in 2010 opened up a great platform to showcase her work. Receiving positive feedback from her audience, KeKe decided to put her short-stories into book form and published Passionate Pleasures Volumes I & II. Since then, KeKe has published five novels and three books of short-stories. “I love to write different genres,” says Keke. “I have such a vivid and overactive imagination, I cannot limit it to one genre. I plan to release my first sci-fi novel Childhood Friends in 2015.”

KeKe Chanel won her first Literary Award May of this year “The Artie Award for Literature,” and has been featured in VTWILLI Magazine. KeKe has also been showcased on blog talk radio shows such as My Cultural Conversations with Verona Mitchell and Let’s Talk with Ms. Shanell. KeKe attends events within her community and throughout the state, as well as meet and greets with local Book Clubs who feature her work. “Giving back to the people who support me is very important,” says KeKe. In January of 2014 KeKe along with her best friend and Manager Latarra started The Purple Hugs Foundation. A non-profit organization geared to help teenagers, grades 7-12 prepare for life after high school. Their goal is to inspire and motivate youth with a positive mindset and environment. For more information about The Purple Hugs Foundation please visit:

KeKe is a wonderful wife and mother to three. She enjoys reading, making up her own songs, watching football and movies, shopping, spending time with loved ones, and playing games on her IPad. She resides in Louisiana with her family. For more information about Keke Chanel visit her website:

KeKe Chanel can be found on the following social media sites:




Linked In
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KeKe Chanel

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Google +
KeKe Chanel

KeKe Chanel

Dicey’s Review of the 1st #Texxxas Expo.


Getting schooled by a LEGEND: Ms. Nina Hartley.

I am a self-proclaimed porn enthusiast. I’m not shy about letting the world know that either. I’ve got nothing to hide. Judge me all you want…from your laptop where you secretly watch porn. And if you don’t watch it, good for you. Whoopty do.

Your partner’s probably enjoying it right now. Without you. So…I still wouldn’t be too judgy, if I were you. But whatever.

Moving on.

I respect the porn industry like I do any other industry.  It is a business. For adults. It’s an exchange, a mutually beneficial relationship, of the sexual variety. Exhibitionists are paid to have sex on camera, and voyeurs, like me, pay to watch them. I see porn as a beautiful work of art where performers express themselves through acting out sex scenes, much in the same way I write out sex scenes in my books. The performers, directors, producers, make-up artists, costume designers, sound engineers, camera and lighting crews tell a story, controlling the scene through sounds and visuals. Each artist brings something special and unique about themselves to the set, and that affects the chemistry that is captured on camera. That’s what we connect with as we watch.

I’ve been wanting to go to the AVN Adult Entertainment Expo in Vegas for a while, so when I caught wind that The Texxxas Expo was coming to Houston, this was a no-brainer. I was going, for sure. After drama with the venue getting changed twice, due to anti-porn-convention outsiders, it was held Wednesday, August 17th, through Saturday, August 20th. With my schedule, however, I was only able to go Saturday. My hubby and I went to the expo at Cover Girls and the luau later at Vivid.

So…you want to know what it was like or what?

I’m going to be honest. ‘Cause I always shoot it straight on my blog, right?

You ready?


Getting spanked by the best: Venus Lux.


Chatting it up with Evan Stone, the dominant lover who triggers my hair fetish.

It was even better than I could have hoped. Some of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life were at the Texxxas Expo. EVER MET. And I mean that. I would hang out with porn stars all day long, if I could. They were just that kind, thoughtful, friendly, open, fun, and of course, beautiful. I just loooove genuine people who live life on their own terms.

I’m just going to talk about the ones I met and spent time with. These are my honest impressions of each:

1. Nina Hartley–A LEGEND *bowing down out of respect* I needed to pull up a seat and pull out some pen and paper. She’s unbelievably approachable and personable. Watch our video about empowering women through sexuality here. I wanted to be respectful of her time, but she seemed comfortable, and excited to keep talking, so I just basked in her presence and started recording. We chatted at the expo and later at the luau. She gave my hubby a technique tip and a souvenir (not telling you!). I am honored to have met her.

2. Evan Stone–he triggers my hair fetish, plain and simple. He always has. But I behaved myself and kept my hands out of his hair. When I saw him, I called him, walked up to him, and started yapping. I really thought it would be a quick, “Hey, I’m a fan.” But he was so receptive, and so exciting to talk to, that I asked if I could record some of it. Watch our video here where he discusses how he’s maintained 17 years in the business. If you want to see a dominant, aggressive male performer, who is also beautiful to look at, check out his professional videos.

3. Venus Lux–gorgeous, sexy, and gives the best of both worlds as a transgender performer. She also gave me one hell of a good spanking. See the video version here. This is something else that stood out to me–I tweeted about her once before the show, and when she saw me, she said, “Hey, I know you.” She even went on to give specifics about what was written in my Twitter profile. It got me all in my feels. Folks, that extra personal touch goes a long way to making a fan feel special. She is the best.


Hugging Sarah Banks tight.

4. Alura Jenson–curvaceous body, glorious smile, aluring personality… Get it? Alluring. Alura. Oh, never mind. She was sitting in a corner at the time we first met. I didn’t want to impose on her while she rested. Lo and behold, she initiated conversation with me. Very sweet. Warm personality.

5. Sarah Banks–When we started taking pics with her, she said, “Come on. Get closer. Hug on me. Do it like you mean it.” Gotta love that. I’m not sure how old she is, but I think she may be the youngest of everyone we met, and fairly new to the business. Y’all take good care of her. She has such a gentle, giving, and humble spirit.

6. Carmen Kay–high-energy exotic dancer, bubbly personality, a real G on the pole…and the ceiling 😀 She loves dancing, and it shows. She performs at Vivid, and hubby and I will definitely go back to see her.

7. Kelli Provocateur–is probably best known for her strong body and muscles wrapped in beautiful, smooth skin. She is instantly someone you just want to hug close. On our way out the door, she told me I was really special and told my hubby he was lucky. *You are special too, Kelli.* You can also see her in the background of my spanking video.

8. Ron Jeremy is King. I reeeally wanted to meet him. Unfortunately, he didn’t come on Saturday. 😦 *crying* I got to speak to him on the phone though.


Alura Jenson, hubby, me, and Venus Lux.

Adam & Eve was one of the vendors and sponsors. I have an account with their store, where I make frequent purchases, so I didn’t buy anything from them at the expo. I’m giving them an honorable mention because they helped bring the show to Houston. Coquette Woman Designs was another vendor with great apparel, and they custom-make sexy clothes to fit a shape like mine. I’m going to have to follow up on that before my next comic con. There was another vendor that gave us goody bags. Really wish I could remember the business name. Loved them and the gifts.

I have not one negative thing to say about any of the porn stars. I’m not just being too nice to mention something bad either. They were really that great. They all, and I mean every single one of these beautiful people, made us feel special. I encourage you to click on their name links above, follow them in social media, book them, and become fans, if you aren’t already.

The only thing negative I have to say about Texxxas Expo is that hubby and I bought our luau tickets well in advance of the show, in spite of it looking shaky on account of the protesters. While I understand the need to get as many people at the event as possible, it’s a bad business model to sell the tickets for half off the day of the event. What should hubby and I take from that next time? Wait until the last minute to buy tickets? Is that really the message you want to send out? I don’t think it is. But…okay. You didn’t sell enough tickets in advance, so there’s a sale the last day. How ’bout do something special for those that paid more in advance then? Noooo. That didn’t happen either. We were offered to buy another ticket for a lesser price. HUH?

There was also an incident with management over us not getting 2 drink tickets each that we bought with our early luau tickets, but…I just said fuck it. It was already time to relieve our sitter by then anyway. We said our goodbyes and left.

It was an all around great time, because the adult entertainment guests made it so. You better believe, I will be going to more porn conventions, and I hope to see the stars I met at this one again some day. I’ve been told my books are pornographic anyway, so HELL YEAH. Perfect fit.

**PLEASE NOTE** I’ve inserted links from different sites like FB, IG, Youtube, and Twitter. If any link you click on doesn’t work, please let me know. I will update it with a new one. Also, check out the CW9 Newsfix report on the porn expo here. Hubby and I appear in the video. Thanks!


#Read #Urbanfantasy #WIP #Excerpt – Sleepy Willow’s Redeemed Soul – Coming Oct. 25th.

SLEEPY WILLOW’S REDEEMED SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series, Vol. 4)

Release date: October 25, 2016.

Redemption: Where the end is just the beginning.


**And…Dicey’s usual 18+ [Adults only] warning applies.**


SleepyWillow'sRedeemedSoul.Ebook.AmazonChapter 1

There couldn’t possibly be any one single thing I enjoyed more on God’s green earth than being snuggled between these two perfect male bodies. Absolutely nothing compared to bathing in a sea of muscles, smooth flesh, fresh male musky scent, and—

“Willooow,” a strange voice whispered.

—little tickles of fine hair. Mmmm. These were the best moments of my afterlife.

The steady heartbeat under my fingertips set the perfect background noise for deep sleeping.


Shit. Not again.

“Willow,” the voice whispered again, “come to me.”

I shook off the whisper and rolled from my right to my left side, which meant my thigh went from draping over a warm body to a cold one. I went from a body full of fresh, pumping blood, to another one full of magic and someone else’s blood. I still felt contentment, being sandwiched between them. And irritation at having my sleep interrupted. If I could just ignore the voice…

Moments passed, and I began to drift back to sleep. Sleeping between these two amounted to a thick slice of velvety Heav—

“Willlllooooowwwww.” The whisper seemed more urgent. “I’m ready for you.”

“Go away,” I groaned, sick of being awakened by this faceless voice.

I scratched my neck then rested my hand back in Conda’s hair. I liked tousling his hair. But I hated being awakened by unknown voices. For someone with my sleep issues, having my sleep disturbed was really the worst kind of torture.

As I tried to get comfortable and back to sleep, the next call came more urgent, less whispery, and not androgynous. Determined to wake me, the decidedly strong male voice came in loud and clear, “I’m ready for you. Come to me when you’re ready.” Ah, fuck off. I was really close to ignoring it again, but “Come to meeeee!” rang smack dab in my ear, and I jumped up. A pair of lips had touched my ear and blown the stray hairs around it.

I didn’t just sit straight up in bed; I jumped clean from the bed to the other side of the room, clutching my gown up to my neck. Eyes bucked, looking around the room for the phantom, I discovered no one there other than my lovers.

“Willow, what’s wrong?” Aaron grabbed his underwear from the floor next to the bed and put them on, never taking his eyes off mine. “Why do you look scared?”

Uh… “Because someone keeps calling me, and it’s not you or Conda, and…” I looked from Aaron to Conda and back to Aaron “…it’s not telepathic. He touched me this time.”

“He?” Aaron looked concerned.

I nodded. “Definitely a he.”

Conda sat up in the bed next to Aaron, looking disoriented and maybe a tad annoyed. He’d had a late shift in Hades’s Voyeur Room, where people paid to watch him perform solo sexual acts. He was tired of me waking him with this unverifiable nonsense. “Come back to bed, baby. It feels early in the day.”

I looked around the candlelit bedroom I shared with them. No one else was present, not physically or otherwise. But there was no doubt in my mind that someone had come in the room and awakened me. Again. And this time he’d touched me to get my attention. “Ivan? Is that you?” My friendly ghost ex-boyfriend had gotten pretty good at going in and out of corporeal and noncorporeal states.

But he didn’t answer.

And I wasn’t surprised. I would have recognized his voice.

Max, is that you?

No answer.

Again—no surprise, though I did feel disappointment. After years of chasing and taunting me through our metaphysical bond, my former maistre vampire had shut off our mental connection completely. I’d severed our blood bond using ritual magic and by becoming my own maistress. He’d gone a step further and abandoned me.

I had the nerve to feel sad about it…after resenting him for so long. To be shamefully honest—I missed him.

“Willow, are you okay?” Aaron walked towards me with outstretched arms. “This has been going on for a while. Is the voice—is he—saying anything different?”

“Nope. He just keeps calling me, telling me to come.”

“Why can’t we hear it?” Aaron looked at Conda and opened both hands to show his helplessness. “He’s obviously supernatural. Conda should be able to hear him, at least.”

“I don’t know.” I trembled and looked at the floor. This time, I hadn’t just been startled from my sleep. I’d been touched…by a he that showed no signs of giving up his beckoning call any time soon.

“That’s weird.” Aaron wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me close until my tremors began to subside. “He didn’t touch you inappropriately, did he?”

I shook my head. The touch had been light, just enough to say ta da—look what I can do.

“Wow. That’s really weird.” Aaron squeezed me tighter. “I’m here for you. We’ll figure it out.”

Yes, it was weird…which was saying something in my world. This was the sixth time I’d been awakened by that same voice this week alone. The voice had been calling me at the most inopportune times for months. It didn’t say much, just kept beckoning me to come. Using a neutral tone, giving no indication of whether he was friend or foe. It made me feel uncomfortable, but not entirely threatened.

I watched as Conda slid the comforter down below his hips until he exposed his personal comforter and began sliding his hand along the ridged, veiny side. While Aaron used soothing words and hug reassurances, Conda had a different, equally effective way of comforting me that involved physical intimacy of the deep stroke variety.

“If the voice is telling you to come,” his voice dropped an octave, “I can help with that.” Conda slid from the bed like a snake, beguiling and sensual, until he approached from behind Aaron.

I didn’t have the energy to tell Conda how unnerved the voice had made me this time, and how commanding come to me had really been. It had felt like a demand, coming from a place of entitlement. Of ownership. I was certain the voice did not mean for me to have an orgasm.


Disengaging myself from Aaron’s embrace, I hiked up my gown, turned away from them, bent over and grabbed my ankles. I’d accepted my wantonness some time ago and made no apologies for it. I would never turn down the pleasure Conda could and would provide. Not even on my worst day.

Conda plunged in without hesitation until his waxed balls touched my hairy lower lips and I could damn near feel him in the back of my throat. His pumping hips, with their familiar rhythm had me near climax in a matter of seconds. Aaron leaned in with one hand on my clit as I rode the first wave of anxiety and stress relief. True to Conda-form, Conda didn’t stop there. He kept going until my knees began to shake and my fingernails began to dig in my feet. Aaron put his other wrist to my mouth, and I struck him with the same fierceness Conda struck me.

Taunting laughter erupted suddenly from across the room and the phantom’s voice followed. “Sex with Conda and blood from Aaron will not bring you redemption,” he said. “But I can.”

I screamed as the glowing white figure flashed near the bathroom door and disappeared. Aaron jerked his wrist back as his blood wasted onto the floor.

Conda, thinking I’d had an intense orgasm, let himself go into bliss, clutching my thighs as he unloaded streams of semen inside me.

Only Aaron had noticed my reaction was not typical for the moment. Aaron held onto me as Conda let me go. A question molded Aaron’s face. “What happened?”

I covered my face with my hands in shame. “I saw him. He flashed in the room.”

“Who is he?” Aaron asked in frustration. “Why does he want you to go to him?”

“I don’t know.”

Conda went to the bathroom, started the shower water, and returned to the bedroom. “Who flashed in the room?”

“The voice,” I sighed. “He said neither of you could bring me redemption, but he could.”

Aaron and Conda exchanged glances.

I was just as confused as they were.

“Redemption?” Conda looked puzzled. “Wait—are you saying God appeared to you?” The hedonist in him hadn’t believe in God until after the Rapture. Now, he just didn’t care one way or the other about God. He only humored me with deity conversation, because he knew how much religion meant to me.

I shrugged. “Yeah…I guess.” God was the only one who could wash away my sins with the blood of his son and redeem my damned soul, so it had to have been him. “Except….” I wasn’t satisfied with that conclusion. For one, the entity in the room annoyed me more than made me feel at ease. God wouldn’t pester me, would he? “God would bring joy and peace and love and—”

“Longsuffering,” the voice said from near the bathroom again. “God would also bring you chaos, war, blind faith, unquestionable obedience, intolerance, ignorance…”

What a weird thing for God to say. He wouldn’t gain anyone’s trust talking that way. Something felt eerie about this. His offer of redemption directly conflicted with his list of Godly attributes. I should just return to ignoring the voice since Conda and Aaron couldn’t hear him anyway. What was the point of ruining our daylight hours over phantom whispers and riddles? It…he would go away. “God just wasn’t the way I imagined he would be.”

“Gods never are.” Conda laughed and shut the bathroom door so he could shower.

It wasn’t funny to me. “He also knew both of your names, Aaron.” I cast my eyes down to the floor, knowing how absurd it all sounded. I considered getting in the shower with Conda and forgetting about this unwanted intruder.

“Well, that would be understandable if he was God, right, but…” Aaron sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me with him.

“God, my ass,” Conda shouted from the shower. His sensitive hearing kept him engaged in the conversation. “If he’s God, I’m the Easter Bunny,” he laughed. “I mean, what’s with all the coded talk and the wakey-wakey act at all times of day? Nah. I’ll bet this is just some invisible supernatural playing a prank on you. Maybe another ghost.”

“The room’s warded though. No one’s supposed to get in without an invitation now.” I opened the door leading to the corridor and confirmed the markings at the threshold were still there. Nope. An invisible man had not penetrated our threshold ward and stumbled into our territory.

“Or…” Aaron took both of my hands in his and rubbed them. “Maybe it’s time for you to see someone…professionally, I mean. To find out what’s really going on, Willow.”

I looked into his pools of silvery blue and smiled. I couldn’t be insulted by the suggestion coming from him considering his own stints with mental health disorders. If anyone knew the signs of psychosis, he probably did. Plus, Aaron’s concern was one of the things I loved most about him. Perhaps the time had come to question my mental acumen. Considering how long it had been since I’d seen my therapist, Dr. Floyd, perhaps I needed a checkup. Then again, perhaps I had not fully healed since Dr. Dougie performed my last organ transplant to his human ally blood donor. I could probably use some fine-tuning, if not an overhaul and recalibration of my system.

I loved both Conda and Aaron…and Remi, though he was currently unavailable. We all had a great thing going, and if getting some help would bring some peace to our time together, I needed to make more of an effort toward getting that help.

“I think you’re right.” Because what if this was the onset of schizophrenia? I kept hearing a voice no one else could hear. It had progressed to the point of seeing and feeling him. “Maybe I do need help, Aaron.”

So did getting help mean I needed to see an MD, PhD, witch, psychic, pastor…? Did I start with Dr. Floyd, the doctor who’d been like a father to me, or someone else? Who had the right gift, skill, and tactic to help me at this very moment? Who would be most sensitive to my different layers and be able to provide a holistic approach? The dilemma troubled me already.

“I can help you, Willow.” A sharp edge clawed down the side of my face. “Come to me for redemption.”

Shiiiit! I almost left my skin when I jumped this time.

“Is the voice back?” Aaron grabbed my shoulders and shouted, “Willow! Ask him who he is and what he wants.”

Huh? Oh, yeah. Aaron had a point. Ignoring the phantom wouldn’t work. I needed answers. “Who are you?” I looked aimlessly around the room for wherever the bright light would flash next.

It slowly began to form and take shape next to Aaron, except Aaron kept his eyes on me, totally unaware.

“Star,” the phantom whispered through faded pink lips. “My name is Star.”

A chill ran down my spine. With all the early morning wakeups, I had a bad feeling he meant Morning Star. “Well, Star. What do you want with me? What can I do for you?”

He laughed. “Nothing. It’s what I can do for you—give you the redemption your heartless chest desires.”

I folded my arms. He didn’t scare me. Not when I could clearly see the shape of an anatomically normal male figure glowing in the dark. “There’s only one way I’m getting redemption, and that’s by earning my way to God’s redemption. I’m going to be saved by his grace.”

“No, you are not.”

Okaaay. My whole body stilled. I stared bug-eyed. “Why not?”

Aaron almost spoke out of concern for my one-sided conversation, but stopped when I held up a hand to wave off his questions. Star and I were finally getting to the good stuff.

“Because I am your redeemer…your morning star.” Star spoke as if that made all the sense in the world.

Morning Star. I shook my head in disbelief. I’d grown up southern Baptist, believing God sent his son, Jesus, to die on the cross for my sins. Then I’d given up my soul in exchange for magical reanimation and learned a bunch of prophecies that involved me being instrumental in the End of Days. Now, the Devil was in my bedroom pretty much telling me he was going to save my soul from…God. Nobody’s luck ran as bad as mine.

“My redeemer? What do you mean? Redeem me from what? Only God can save me from my sins.”

“You keep saying that.” Star intertwined his fingers and spoke with ancient patience. “Truth is, only I can redeem your mind. Only I can show you what he doesn’t want you to know—that there are no sins. You don’t need salvation. You need emancipation from your indoctrination.”

“Willow…” Aaron shook my arm. “I’m worried. What’s he saying?” Aaron shook my arm again. “Willow?”

I held up my index finger signaling for Aaron to hold on as I continued chatting with Star. “So, you’re the fallen angel? The Prince of Darkness of this world?”

“Yes. I am Lucifer.” He bowed low, way low then rose slowly. “And you are my chosen one.”

Grabbing Aaron’s phone from his hand, effectively prevented Aaron from completing his call for help. Star had all the answers I needed. “Chosen for what?”


My eyebrows raised in question.

“To lay with the man who has multiple souls, to birth the Antichrist into the world, to lead the demon army, to ascend to your throne in Hell. Surely, you must have studied it in the texts or at least guessed it by now. You must come to me for redemption.” Star tacked on a lopsided smile at the end.

No, no, no, no, nooooo. That was not how this was supposed to work. Not how any of it was supposed to work. This was some bullshit right here. I squeezed Aaron’s hand for reassurance that I was still in the physical realm. “B-b-but God is my redeemer.”

He shook his head and smiled, finding it funny that I still held on to that same line. “Yes. God is your redeemer.” He walked up to me and circled me once. “I am your God. And I will redeem you.” He stood next to me and lifted my chin with a warm, smooth hand. “I am here to relieve you of guilt. To absolve you of condemnation. To give you unconditional peace and acceptance in enjoying the carnal pleasures made available to you.” His thumbs rubbed both of my cheeks.

“Don’t ever touch me.” I snapped my head to the side to avoid the sense of being owned by Star.

He raised open palms out to the sides of my face as a gesture of acquiescence to my will. However, when he spoke, he carried authority and power. “It’s time for you to understand something, chosen one. The world as you know it is upside down. It’s backwards. The God you have worshipped and served is not what you think he is. The gospel as you have learned it, is incorrect. It is one-sided, corrupt, and biased. The Bible is not the true source of divination. The Book of Unbiblical Prophecies is the one true roadmap for the universe and mankind to follow. It is the true manuscript prepared by the deities, for we are many.” His glow began to fade. “Nothing is as it seems. Remember that.” He faded even more. His voice dropped to a whisper again. “I’m ready for you. Come to me when you are ready.” His glow faded until he vanished.

I took a half step back. Actually, it was a full blown stumble. “Go ahead and make the call, Aaron.” I handed his cell phone back.

“To Dr. Dougie? I was thinking maybe a CAT scan…maybe get your narcolepsy meds checked…”

Side-eying him, I realized Aaron and I weren’t on the same page in getting the help I really needed. I shook my head and rubbed my temples. “No, sweetie. Dr. Floyd.” I sank down to the floor next to the bed. “I need mental help, and I need it right now. Please call my therapist, Dr. Floyd. He’s the only one I trust to fix me.”

Thanks for reading. HopDicey_Box_Set 3D Covere you enjoyed. I will give details later of the mega release party coming in October.

I own the copyright. Do not steal my shit. None of it. Feel free to share Chapter 1 in its entirety only.

Read Volumes 1, 2, 3, 3.1, and 3.2, if you haven’t already. Here’s the box set. Check out my website for more books:


#Comicpalooza 2016–#ComicCon Magic and #Fangirllife.

If you’re fIMG_3469ollowing me on FB, Twitter, or IG, you already know I had a blast at The Texas International Comic Con: Comicpalooza in Houston, TX, this year. In fact, whenever I’m in a bad mood, I think about it and smile. So, not only was it fun, it has become therapeutic. I just love comic conventions. I feel “at home”.

As you can see, my Sleepy Willow cover model, Jaies Baptiste, and I met Charlie Hunnam. As a huge “Sons of Anarchy” fan, Jax Teller was my boo thang. I’ve enjoyed Charlie’s other works too: The Ledge, Crimson Peak, Queer as Folk, and though Pacific Rim wasn’t my favorite, he was fantastic in it. He’s not only easy on the eyes, but a great actor. I can’t wait to see King Arthur: Legend of the Sword. I may be an old woman, but I’m still one of those people that freaks out when I meet a celeb I’ve admired already. That smile he gave us as we approached was everything. I’ll leave it at that.

And, there I go smiling again.

*Stop it, Dicey.*

But really, my face in the pic says it all, doesn’t it?

Okay…moving on.

I’ve also 13501886_1148607445161531_2838678588925697508_nhad a crush on Steve Lund ever since I started watching “Bitten” years ago. That damn Nick Sorrentino…Lord have mercy. So…

*pausing to get my heehaw on*

Okay, I’m back. What I was going to say was that Steve, the actor playing Nick, was great in the role because he reminds me very much of the character Nick–funny and hot af. Greyston Holt, who plays Clay, was also a gorgeous, kindhearted fellow. *Shit. I can’t stop smiling now.* If you know anything about the show, you know they play werewolves. And since I write vampires and had some cosplayers, I thought–“This is going to be a great photo shoot.” It was.

This was our vampire/werewolf collaboration. Magic.

If you like what you see of them in those photos, do yourself a favor and watch this fanmade video with clips of them from the show. Bitten may have been cancelled after three seasons, but my memories will last a lifetime. *wipes brow*

Okay, okay.13466192_1148336331855309_443955975263859124_n I’ll share just one more photo from that shoot, because we ended up taking a few. The photographer was awesome like that. In fact, their whole team was awesome. I’d just like to throw it out there that it did not go unnoticed how kind their handlers were to us. That went a loooong way in making it a beautiful experience. If you ever read this–Thanks, guys.

Btw, Charlie’s crew was great too. Grade A.

<<<<<I can explain the look on my face in this pic. Um…Steve was growling in my ear and it sent shivers throughout my whole body. Okay? That’s my embarrassing disclosure of the day.

Let’s see. What else?

Oh, yes.

Kevin Grevioux was freaking awesome. I chatted with him once when he was in the aisle near my booth.IMG_3820 I didn’t mind looking like a fool to bask in his glow. I just introduced myself, and said how much I admired his work. This is THE “Underworld” and “I, Frankenstein” writer and actor, in case you didn’t know. Put some #respeck on it. The next day, hubby and I ran into him again and had a chitchat about HBCUs. It was refreshing to see Kevin discuss it so passionately as an alum from Howard University. I didn’t get a pic with him. He did show love by retweeting me though. Works for me.

And that voice of his… I’ve never heard anything so deep. It’s EXACTLY like how I described my character Punch’s voice, fyi.

C. Robert Cargill… We were on the Discussing Dystopias: From Book to Film panel together. Cool guy. Really wish we could have talked a bit more, since between you and me, I’m currently in the process of making the book to film transition. Ha. Don’t tell anyone. Okay? Anywho, Cargill wrote “Sinister I”, “Sinister II”, and you guessed it–the upcoming film, “Doctor Strange”.

13466068_1148336705188605_8126900875368365057_n13497771_1148753458480263_6215743350971563380_oI was on four panels this time. The other three were: Multiculturalism in Sci-Fi/Fantasy (personal fave), Want to See Something Really Scary?, and The Changing Image of the Vampire. Lovely co-panelists. Engaging audiences. Lively discussions. I probably talked too much in some panels, and not enough in others, but oh, well. I had a blast. 😀

I’d like to leave you with a part of the Comicpalooza 2016 experience that was unique to ME. A fan, Melisa, one S, stopped by with her friends. She’d said seeing me at the con, after reading my books, was the highlight of the event for her. She’d bought my books last year and had returned for more. Can you imagine how that made me feel??? Can you? All those talented, highly accomplished artists and celebs at the con, and Melisa had come to see me. This gave me the biggest smile ever. Every time a fan tells me something like that–MAGIC happens on the inside of my chest, and I know I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.

After she explained how much she’d enjoyed reading my books, I asked if I could record her. I just uploaded the video to Youtube. I can’t wait to see her again next year. I’ll have a new book by then. *mwah*

For more pictures from my Comicpalooza photo album click here. If you took pics with or of us, feel free to add them to 13533150_1152433351445607_2166042867591865530_nthe album or tag me in a post.

**I’m grateful to all my models that helped out at my booth and all my friends that stopped by to say hello and buy books!**

Dicey out.


I had a great time at #SpaceCityComicCon…


Dicey with Wolfsbane, comic book coming in August 2016, created by Jon Guerra.

…but it wasn’t because I sold a lot of books. I didn’t. I’m even beginning to wonder if people read books anymore.

And it wasn’t because I met Tommy Flanagan, though I was really excited about that. In fact, when I first learned the cast members of Sons of Anarchy were going to be at Space City Comic Con, I shouted to my hubby, “OMG! I want to meet Tommy Flanagan!”

Hubby supported this. He and only a few others knew that Tommy had inspired an upcoming character that I haven’t announced yet…because the book isn’t finished. It’s plotted, but there are two other projects in front of it, so I didn’t see the need to tell you all, “The actor that played Chibs on SoA inspired So-n-So Character.”IMG_4535 bmv

Just know that Tommy was great in person. Great haircut (y’all know I have a hair fetish). Great accent (like Sam Hueghan’s Scottish burr on Outlander). Great sunglasses. Great hug. 😀 He allowed me to grip his shoulders and embrace him…probably a minute too long, and gosh darnit, I don’t have a pic to prove it went down. I have witnesses though (my cover model, Jaies, and hubby, Danny), and memories. “Thank you, darling,” has never sounded sexier.

But meeting the celeb I most wanted to meet at this particular comic con didn’t make it a great experience either. Not by itself anyway.

What made it great?

Meeting so many awesome people. Not one, many.

Not just any ol’ people, though. I mean people as obsessed with comic, fantasy, sci-fi, and horror characters, as I am.

No, really. That’s it.

One guy came up to me, his cheeks slightly flushed, and said, “I have to tell somebody. I’m just so excited.”

I’d been walking from around the back of the booth to the front so I could pass out flyers, when he’d started talking. He looked so excited, that I stopped out of curiosity. “What? What happened?”

He pulled a photo out of a plastic baggie and handed it to me. “I just met Ron Perlman, and it was fucking awesome.”

I looked at the autographed photo of him and Ron and grinned really big. Now, I understood why he was so excited. I was excited for him. “Was he everything you’d hoped for?”

The guy nodded. “Yes. He was fucking awesome.” Turns out, Ron was this guy’s favorite actor. He’d saved up money for the photo and autograph, and he was ready to cross the experience off his bucket list. He had no regrets about the four hours he spent waiting in line, and none about the money he’d spent. Meeting the actor that had meant so much to him had been worth it all. Gotta love that.

For the next thirty 13321894_1133133706708905_6879335680203122373_nminutes, I chatted with this stranger about Ron “Fucking Awesome” Perlman, Sons of Anarchy, Hellboy, Hand of God (Ron stars on this Amazon original show), Penny Dreadful (Billie Piper, who plays Lily, was there), Game of Thrones (Julian Glover, who plays Grand Maester Pycelle, was there), The Walking Dead… We were fans of the same shows. We loved some of the same characters and as a byproduct, some of the same actors. We talked so long about so much that I’m not even sure how the conversation ended. My point is–it was a good conversation. He may not have bought my book, but his enthusiasm for some of the same things I love was more than enough for me to not feel like my time was wasted.

If you aren’t passionate about these shows, you wouldn’t understand. But if you are, you know why he was so excited, and why I was so happy for him. It was a wonderful moment for him, and he got to share it with someone else who “got it”.

So, no. I’m not trying to blow smoke up your ass. I’m not trying to make myself feel better about not selling a lot of books. I really enjoyed hanging out with people as passionate about my favorite books, shows, movies, games, and comics as I am. At comic cons, I get to be as “weird” as I want to be…and fit right in. That’s a good feeling.

Can’t wait for the next one in two weeks. Hope toIMG_3334 see you there so we can geek out together.

*We took a ton of photos and plastered them all over our social media pages. These are just a few of us.

*Yes, I’ve heard about the behind-the-scenes drama. Looks like TMZ picked up the story today. I like this story of Tommy Flanagan and Alan Ritchson’s heroism better.

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13332896_1234572843243170_8775867652478071599_nFullSizeRenderIMG_4313 bmv

Dicey Updates: Comic Cons, New Covers, New Audiobook, New Poster.

Update #1: If you’re in the Houston area, stop by Space City Comic Con May 27-29th (this Friday through Sunday) and geek out with me at booth AA-258. This will be my first 2016 4 x 6 flyerappearance at this con, hopefully, not the last. I’m looking forward to taking lots of photos, hanging out with old and new fans, discussing my favorite shows, movies, games, and books, and debuting my new comic posters. Angel Comics artist, Rod Thornton, did a fabulous job bringing some of my characters from THE NARCOLEPTIC VAMPIRE SERIES to “life”. You can see his artwork on my new flyer to the left.

Space City Comic Con will also be an opportunity to meet some of the actors from one of my favorite shows: Sons of Anarchy. I talked about how much I loved it back in 2012 here. As you can see, I survived the show ending in 2014, though it was hard to let go. *sniff* I’m planning to take the SoA poster off my wall and get the cast to autograph it. That should lift my spirits. *fingers crossed*

Update #2: I’ll also be at Comicpalooza for the 4th year straight, June 17-19th. I reaaally enjoy my time there every year. I’ll be in good company with Norman Reedus, Kate Beckinsale, Carl Weathers, and other favorite stars. *Reminding myself to take the 10 Sherrilyn Kenyon books off my shelf to see if she’ll sign them when I see her.* I’ll provide my booth assignment and panel info later. Just know, I will be on 4 panels this year, moderating 2.2015-203 HANDOVER Ebook

Update #3: My first novel SHAMEFUL (taboo) has been converted to my first audiobook, and has already received 2 reviews. Give it a listen and leave yours. It’s available on Audible, iTunes, and Amazon.

This is probably a good time to mention that SHAMEFUL has a new book cover as well. ‘Cause when you know better, you do better.

Hope you like it. 😉

Okay…what’s next?

Update #4: I have a new book cover for SLEEPY WILLOW’S BONDED SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 1).

SleepyWillow'sBondedSoul.EbookYes, the book that started all my gory, sexy creatures-of-the-night drama needed an update as well. So here’s the 5th and hopefully, FINAL cover for this book.

Ahhhh yeaahhh. My cover model, Jaies Baptiste; photographer, Tim Rogers; and designer Najla Qamber hooked that ish up. Contact them for bookings. They are each good, fun, professional people to work with.

Are you tired of my updates yet?


How ’bout one more?SleepyWillow'sRedeemedSoul.Ebook.Amazon


Update #5: Here’s the cover for SLEEPY WILLOW’S REDEEMED SOUL (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 4).

When I first posted it on my FB page, I got a private message from someone cussing me out about the book not being ready yet. *pouty lip* I’m so sorry. I’m trying. I only want to give you my best, and I don’t have my best ready yet. The whole novel is not ready for release yet BUUUUTTTTTT I plan to reveal a teaser for the book within the next few days. Can we call that a compromise? Thanks for your patience and support, beauties. And thanks for following my blog and keeping up with my updates. Love you.

I am sooo sick of biases, stereotypes, and profiling…


ON APRIL 16, 2016**

Rock ’n’ Roll Isn’t a ‘Nonblack’ Thing: How Racial Stereotypes Almost Ruined My Good Time

I was a bit overwhelmed by all the responses to this post, but it was a conversation that needed to be had. So many folks messaged me that they could relate. I hope I did my small part in bringing about bigger change.

Be sure to follow The Root if you have an interest in breaking stereotypes and promoting equality. And if you don’t, you’re probably on the wrong author’s blog. I am about diversity, inclusion, equality, and justice for all.

Thanks for your help, Yesha Callahan!

**added on 5-25-16** RIP Prince. His death is truly heartbreaking. He was and will always be heavily influential for rock music, musicians, and fans, though his impact could never be limited to just rock.


A more detailed version of my story (2500 words):


This will be the realest post I’ve ever written, because it is deeply personal… and I do not care how anyone else feels about it. This is MY experience. MY life. It is what is real to ME. I am just so sick of biases, stereotypes, and profiling, that I am actually going to use my blog platform to vent about it. I am sick of being silent about MY experiences, in order for others to remain comfortable, while trying to tell me what is and isn’t going on in the world through their own limited scopes. If you can’t at least be empathetic to my plight, just because it is not your experience, you can get the fuck on.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…

12923107_257309694607300_1577272382701813110_nI listen to rock music. Not just rock…metal. I listen to heavy metal. I’m a black female, and I like heavy metal rock. I blast it as I drive down the road. I go to rock and heavy metal concerts. I get my mosh on in the pit. Deal with it.

Rock-n-roll is not a “non-black” thing. Jimi Hendrix, Chuck Berry, Lenny Kravitz, Little Richard… Hellooooo.

That’s not all the music I listen to, mind you. I love everything, except country, though I support Tim McGraw. His love and diversity message is one that I can get down with, so I follow and share his posts. But you get my point. If you’ve read my books (the opening scene of THE NARCOLEPTIC VAMPIRE SERIES is set to Marilyn Manson’s “You and Me and the Devil Makes 3” and BEST FRIENDS, FANTASY LOVERS is a rock-n-roll erotic romance) or have read my previous blog posts about music, you’ll see that I cannot be boxed in to only listening to what is expected of me: hiphop, R & B, gospel, and pop. Apparently, these are the only “acceptable” genres for me…because I tend to raise eyebrows when folks learn otherwise.

Here’s a middle finger for your box. Obama-big-middle-finger

So, I went to a rock concert last night. And I was pretty doggone excited about going to it, too. Last week, my friend, Ish, sent a message out of the blue asking if I liked Ozzy. “HELLZ YEAH,” I replied. We commenced to make plans to go to the Ozzy, Judas Priest, and Megadeth Tributes concert at the House of Blues last night. “Tribute concert” basically meant the actual artists wouldn’t be there, but some kickass bands would give us an experience that would make us feel like the real bands were. Let me be clear–the bands did not disappoint. They were AWESOME. (Thanks, JudasX, Gigadeth, and OZZ!) Ish had extra tickets, so I mentioned I knew some other people who would be interested in going. I reached out to them. We all couldn’t wait. We posted about it constantly on FB, in fact. Unfortunately, some had to back out at the last minute, but it was all good.

Flash forward to last night…


You couldn’t tell us anything. We were going to rock out to Ozzy, dammit. We continued to post on social media in the hours leading up to the concert.

We arrived early.

We got in line.

We waited with the rest of the fans because doors hadn’t opened yet.

Then a guy went down the line giving wristbands to those over 21 that wanted to drink alcohol once they got inside. He went down the row nice and easy until he got to us. “Y’all here for the Ozzy concert?” We laughed. “Yes. We’re in the right line,” I said. He said, “Okay,” and gave those of us who were going to drink *ahem* a wristband, and went on down the line of people behind us.

Pretty efficient, right? It would make the line go faster once the doors finally opened.


A few minutes later, a female went down the line with a wand to scan everyone for weapons and metal objects. She got to us and stopped. “Are y’all here for the Ozzy concert?” Ha! “Yes, we are. We are in the right line. We are here for the Ozzy concert.” “Oh, okay.” And she wanded us down and moved down the line of people behind us.

Still efficient, House of Blues. Good on ya.

The Hispanic couple in front of us turned around. “Wow. Everyone keeps stopping y’all,” the female persuasion of the couple said, and even pulled out a camera to take a pic of us in the background. “Yeah. I’m used to it,” I said. Which is kind of sad, if you think about it, right? Anywho… We laughed and joked with her about how everyone assumed we should be at a JayZ concert (love him too, btw) instead of at an Ozzy one. But whatevs. Like I said–used to it. Because this applies to just about every area of my life. I am a black author…that writes about…well, nontraditionally “black” things, I’ve been told, from multicultural/diverse characters’ perspectives. And I’m a black female…who happens to be part of the small percentage of us who practice law in the great state of Texas. Ah, yeah. I’m used to people assuming one thing about me, and freaking out when they get something else.

Doesn’t make it any less annoying. Why the stereotype to begin with???

But I digress…

Back to my story. ‘Cause it gets better.

And by better, I mean ridamndiculous.

So…finally the House of Blues doors were opened.

We followed the line up to the door. “Have your tickets out so we can scan them,” they said. Because House of Blues is efficient like that. *thumbs up*

“There are 2 lines. TWO lines,” they said as we approached to have our ticket scanned.

Okay. Let’s get in the other line that’s empty, because…efficiency. Yeah.

My friend, Meggan, went up to the employee in the other “line” and handed him her ticket.

“What concert are you here for?” the gatekeeper asked.


“You’re at the wrong concert,” he said, before she could even finish. “The March Madness Music Fest is over there.” He pointed to the mega concert going on at Discovery Green a few blocks away where Kendrick Lamar (love him too) would perform. We could see it from the House of Blues balcony, and we’d never made plans to go to it.

“Huh? No, I’m here for this one.” Meggan held up her ticket.

He wouldn’t scan it. He just pointed for her to get out of line. “This is not the right concert. The concert you’re looking for is over there. There are two different concerts.”

“We’re at the right place,” I said. “We are here for the Ozzy concert.”

But he had decided to dismiss us and not scan our tickets.


It wasn’t funny anymore.

I was NOT laughing.

He was about to make us miss the tribute concert because of his own biases.

I was pissed the fuck off. We had waited in line and been questioned twice already, to get to the front and be told we were not in the right place and couldn’t get in. Did this douche just leave a certain presidential campaign rally and come straight to the House of Blues to do ticket scans or what?

I gave Meggan’s shoulder a shove. “Fuck him. Let’s go in. We’re at the right place. We have the right tickets.” We started walking in.

Several folks shouted, “Noooo. You can’t.” Honestly, my back was to them at this point, so I don’t know who did the shouting. But I turned immediately and pointed to the Hispanic couple getting their ticket scanned in the line we had been directed out of to go to Douche’s “line”.

“We were standing and waiting in line right behind them. We have tickets to THIS concert,” I said. And I probably had an attitude. Lo’ and behold–I must be the stereotypical angry black woman…because I spoke up and stood up for us to get into the concert Douche wouldn’t let us in.

The guy from the first line held up his scanner, scanned my ticket, saw that it was valid, and I walked on inside the door.

I stood inside wondering what I should do about the way Douche had treated us. Wondering how angry I could appear without embarrassing all black females. Wondering whether it was worth complaining to management and possibly ruining our chances of enjoying what we had come for–the concert. I mean, the first 2 that asked if we were in the right place could have saved us some time if we had actually been in the wrong line, right? A simple inquiry from them wasn’t really that bad. But the last guy–AKA gatekeeper, Douche–his dismissive attitude toward us had crossed the line of decency.

I stood there remembering the time when I was in high school. In a class of all white students. I was the only non-white student in my class at the private Christian school I went to in Greenville, NC. I remembered the time we had gone on our senior trip. I had been a student there since the 8th grade, and I had just gotten to the point that I didn’t hate my classmates. I had just gotten to the point that–though I did not fit in–I didn’t mind spending time with them outside of school hours. Maybe I *could* be friends with one or two of them. So, I went with them on the senior trip to Schroon Lake, NY and some city in Canada.

Even as I type this, I feel emotional about it. You see, I’ve made great efforts to put my high school years in a locked mental trunk. Not a combination lock. A heavy duty, titanium lock with an iron key. But as I stood there inside those House of Blues doors–that I’d had to fight to get into instead of being given the same deference as everyone else in line–that trunk unlocked on its own…and out fell this memory. Along with others, but I won’t share the rest.

*deep breath*

This one’s important.

My high school classmates and I rode in a chartered bus on our senior trip. Do you know what chartered means? Good. Then you know it basically means only the people that belong there are on it. So I was on it. I had every right to be there. Just like all the other folks on there. And we crossed the Canadian border with no problems.

On the way back, however–YES, COMING BACK INTO THE U.S.–Border patrol climbed onboard and went down the line. Just like they did outside the House of Blues tribute concert last night. And when they got to me, they stopped. They questioned me. Just like they did outside the House of Blues last night. On a bus full of white folks, I was the only black one. That must have meant I was in the wrong place. “What’s your name? What are your parents’ names? Where are you from? Where were you born? Where are you going? Where are you coming from?” Just normal security questions. That Mr. Border Patrol didn’t ask anyone else. Then after looking me up and down, he decided I was just some nervous 17-year-old and left me alone.

I felt like shit. There’s nothing like being singled out and scrutinized for…just being yourself. Despite the good time I’d had with some of my classmates on our trip, I was reminded that I was different from them, and I did not belong with them. No matter what I did, I would not be accepted as a part of them. Our society would always view me as the outsider.

That was in 1992.

Nineteen ninety-two.

I, and my black rocker friends (the 4 of us), were given extra scrutiny outside a rock concert last night in Houston, TX, in 2016.


What exactly had we done wrong?

When will the profiling stop?

*pausing to get myself together*

I am sick of it. Of you. Yes, YOU. Those who say this doesn’t happen. Those who act like my experiences aren’t real. Those who somehow think because Obama was elected, we have racial equality. But THIS was not racial equality. If we had been treated the same way everyone else had in line last night, that would have been equality. If Douche had just scanned Meggan’s ticket and seen that it was valid, things would have been equal.

I don’t want special privileges or concessions to be made for me. And at 41-years-old, I no longer care about your acceptance either. I WANT TO BE TREATED EQUALLY, MOTHERFUCKERS. In all things.

Do better, folks. Your biases are infectious diseases. Your stereotypes are bullshit. And your profiling is disgusting. We are not a one-dimensional label to be stuffed in the tiny box that you think is appropriate. We are individuals. We should not be treated differently to enjoy the same privileges you do. I just want to go to the fucking Judas Priest/Megadeth/Ozzy tribute concert without being harassed or told I don’t belong. Is that too much to ask?

**PLEASE NOTE: My first concert at House of Blues was for the Roologic record label launch in March. It was fabulous. Such a diverse bunch–the artists and the audience. I posted on FB how much I enjoyed the concert. I tweeted to House of Blues how wonderful my experience was. So I’m not the sort of person who only complains when things are bad. I shout positive experiences from the rooftop. I am honestly less likely to share negative ones publicly, but I’ve decided some of my negative experiences need to be shared to combat the rhetoric that somehow the “majority” is being oppressed. That’s not even possible. I’m pretty sure none of the folks that attended the March Madness Music Festival last night were told they were in the wrong concert.**

Will I ever return to the House of Blues in Houston? Damn straight. Apparently, they need to get used to seeing more black faces at rock concerts. I just may show up 10-deep next time. Plus, the bands and bartenders were great! My friends and I had a blast.

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#Valentines~Romance That is Out of This World~Author @Clare_Dargin Guest Post

Hi, Dicey- thanks for hosting me!  Happy Valentine’s Day to you and all of your readers!  As a celebration of this wonderful day, I have a freheart with black outline transparente gift to all of your readers!

Valentine’s Day is celebrated all over the world.  But what are it’s origins?  There are many legends surrounding this wonderful day, however most are centered around at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus, all of whom were martyred. The legends surrounding them are fascinating. One tells of a priest named Valentine who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men. This Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When his actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death.  Though tragic this one is my favorite, because it is the most romantic and valiant.

Another story suggests that another man named Valentine may have been killed for attemptingcupid silouhette to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons, where they were often beaten and tortured. Brave, but not very romantic.  However, another legend, tells of a man name Valentine who was imprisoned and had actually sent the first “valentine” greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl–possibly his jailor’s daughter–who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter signed “From your Valentine,” an expression that is still in use today.

But the day we know today was not associated with love in the second and third centuries like it is now.  As you know, today people give flowers, cards and chocolates along with candle light dinners and romantic dates, among other things, to show their affection for one another.  This day became definitively associated with love during the Middle Ages. Back then, it was commonly believed in France and England that February 14th was the beginning of the birds’ mating season, which added to the idea that the middle of Valentine’s Day should be a day for romance.

The best Valentines are the ones that aren’t exclusive to February 14th.  Cards, candy and a romantic meal are great, but showing some one you love them any day of the year is the best way to go.  Sometimes the best way to show love is the tiny sacrifices we do for the people we treasure the most.  I call that Romance In Action.  And that’s what we romance writers specialize in.  All of our work centers on the growing romance between the main characters in our books.  But we can’t just have our characters say that they love each other and end the story. They have to show it, not just tell it.  And they do it by sacrificing a part of themselves in the name of love.

In my latest book Wolf’s Blade, wolf shifter Callum Blake lives out his love for his pack by going after a madman from his own pack who is determined to rule all of wolf kind.  Despite the fact that no one in his pack believes him that this rogue member- Eryx Leva is a threat, Callum goes after Eryx because he loves his family even though they don’t see eye to eye.  And the sacrifice he makes grows when he falls in love with Samantha Dixon, another wolf shifter, who turns out is his true mate.  Callum will do anything to protect her from Eryx, who has set his sight on her, and Callum must protect her from himself.  For he carryies a dark secret inside of himself that could possibly kill her.

The question is- will their love be strong enough to conquer all?  Below is an excerpt from “Wolf’s Blade” demonstrating Callum’s desire to sacrifice in the name of love.  Enjoy!

HRwolfsbladeKeep Reading To Receive A Free Gift!


Samantha Dixon rescues a wounded wolf shifter in the woods near her home … and unwittingly gets drawn into a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a murderer. Callum Blake is on the trail of an evil man who would be king of all wolf kind, no matter the cost … it’s up to Callum to stop him. How can Callum fulfill his duty to protect his pack and save the woman who is destined to be his mate?

Wolf’s Blade

Author Clare Dargin

Series The Paladins

Book # 1

Genre Contemporary, Paranormal, Shifters, Wolves

Heat Level 4

Words 32,000

Content Notes Intense, Extreme Violence, Non-Sexual Physical Assault

Publication Date 12/28/2015

Excerpt from Wolf’s Blade-

He panted as his heart pounded in his chest. The change was happening again. He whimpered as he tried to stop it. He clawed the wall as his fingers extended, turning into long claws, leaving their human side behind. Sweat formed on his brow as he pushed the beast back.

“Hey, you’re up,” Samantha said, walking toward him. “Are you hungry?”

He turned to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” She rushed to him. “You’re covered in sweat.”

She led him out of the hall to the living room. She brushed the moisture off his brow and looking at him sweetly. He smiled weakly. He thought about how she’d rescued him and was able to bring him back to her house single-handedly. Strong and courageous, she bore the will of a Paladin.

She was such a good woman, she didn’t deserved to be dragged into this mess between him and Eryx. I need to warn her. She has to get as far away from me as possible. “You need to run. Get as far away from me as you can.”

“Shhhhh…” she said, stroking his hair.

“No, you don’t understand. Eryx, he’s—” He grabbed his chest, feeling the beast arise again.

“He ain’t coming in here,” she said, soothing him. “I told you I can protect us.”

“It’s not just him, it’s me. I may harm you.”

She shook her head. “You are a good man, I see it in your eyes. I know you won’t harm me. You’re just upset, that’s all.”

He wanted to believe her. He tried to believe her. But could he trust himself since his mating heat had become so consuming.

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Author Bio

Clare Dargin is a multi-published romance author. She has written for several publishers in different genres, including erotic romance, military romance, contemporary, paranormal, and sci-fi. She lives in the mid-west, and when not surfing the web, she is hard at work writing her next romance novel. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, and Amazon.

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The Embraced: Scribal Love-



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Author Clare Dargin is one of those sweet author souls I met in the cyber world years ago, and hope to always remain closely in contact with. She’s always been genuine, open, giving, and an all-around wonderful author, person, and friend. Love doesn’t have to just be romantic.  It can be an expression of friendship, understanding, and support. So, this is my Valentines tribute to Clare Dargin and all you readers and “lovers” out there. Love you, Clare. Thanks for being in my life and for being you. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! Show love all year round.