Good morning, y’all. Happy New Year!!

I’m Aliyah and am so excited to be here with the Coffee Crew and the other wonderful authors during this day dedicated to the men and women who risk their lives to keep the rest of us safe. Thank you to each and everyone one of them. Most of what I write deals with military men and the book I’m talking about today deals with one of the members of my SEAL Team, the Megalodon Team.


Dezarae Kerry had no time for men in her life. She was busy enough with her work, restoring old cars to their former glory. All that changed the wintry night she found a handsome Caucasian stranger alongside the road and took him to her home.

Ross Connelly didn’t know who he was. The beautiful curvaceous ebony woman who had undressed him and put him in her bed didn’t know who he was either. Struggling to regain his memory, Ross has to fight to hold onto the woman who had saved his life once that is accomplished.

The fact he is a SEAL, his appalling ex-wife, a friendless and despondent child are a few of the obstacles they must overcome to be together. Dezarae tries to maintain her distance Ross is determined to make her understand that she is his heart, she is his soul. She is…CONNELLY’S FLAME

And here’s a short excerpt:

He was sound asleep when Dezarae came back into the room.

She smiled as she took in the stranger in her bed. He had curled up against her stuffed tow truck. His face was finally at peace. Moving silently, she left the room and went to make herself some dinner. While it was cooking, she took his clothes from the dryer, folded them, and placed them beside the bed where he still slept. Again, Dezarae reached out her hand like she was going to stroke his face only to again withdraw it. There was something about this man that called to her, but she wasn’t sure what. It could have been the real fear she had seen when he couldn’t remember his own name, but she didn’t know.

After one more glance at his body, she slipped back out of the room with an extra blanket for her own use that night. As she was leaving the room, she didn’t notice the slate gaze that settled upon her retreating back, watching the sway of her hips with considerable less mistrust in them.

Glancing at her watch, she knew how long she had before dinner and so, sliding on her coveralls, Dezarae went to the garage and began to work on her vehicle. She was restoring a classic—a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500, obsidian black.

Her hands were gentle as they moved over the shell of the car. Restoring cars was her passion. She was good at it, as the shop next to her house would suggest, but it was this car that she worked on in her free time, little by little, savoring the experience, for it relaxed her immensely.

So, with a grin, she lifted out the dismantled engine and began to clean parts again, laying them out to dry after she was done. James Blunt played through her garage as she worked. When her watch beeped she stood up, degreased her hands, and unzipped the coveralls, draping them across one worktable, and tuned off the radio before going back into the warm house.

Her home was small with two bedrooms and one bath. It worked for her but with the extra guest she was going to be sleeping on the couch. It was fine, she had done it before.

Pulling the casserole out of the oven, she placed it on the trivet on the countertop. The smell filled her kitchen as she walked to the cupboards and got down some dishes. As she turned around, she froze. Leaning in her doorway stood the man she had picked up alongside the road.

He stood there like he owned the place. He’d dressed only in his jeans that she had left folded beside the bed, the defined abs that disappeared below the waistband of those blue jeans visible to her gaze. Her eyes traveled over the anchor tattoo on his left pec. Suddenly the rebel flag didn’t give her shivers; well, it did, but not like it usually would.

He oozed sex as he leaned there watching her with those intense gray eyes that roamed over her body again as if he owned her and the property rights to her. Up and down, slowly, his gaze moved. Burning her, branding her. It was as if he were learning her most private thoughts just from a look.

“I’m sorry I scared you earlier,” he said in a deep voice.

“How are you feeling?” Dezarae asked him, ignoring the trembles his voice had created in her body.

“Good.” He took a step towards her but stopped as she shrank back. A sad expression filled his handsome face. “I won’t hurt you.”

buy link:

Thanks for spending some time with me today, please if you have questions ask. I look forward to chatting with y’all today. You can also find me at or join my yahoo group at

Happy reading,

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