Posts Tagged ‘K.M. Jackson’

Feeling Friendly… Deal News!

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2015

I’ve been holding on to this news for a little while and I’m so happy to now be able to share it far and wide (social media pun totally intended). I’ve been signed on to write a novella called FRIENDING THE FASHIONISTA for Samhain Publishing under the fabulous executive editor Latoya Smith who I adore and have been wanting to work with for so long. FRIENDING will be the first in my Flirty Fashionista series, marrying my love of fashion and romance.

Samhain PM announcement

 

I can’t thank Latoya enough for taking me on and my fantastic agent Rachel Brooks from the L. Perkins Agency for making it all happen. Thank you ladies for helping to make my publishing dreams come true.

 

Now let me get to writing… after a dance just a little but more.

#WeNeedDiverseRomance

 

All the best,

Kwana

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Stay Writing… always

Saturday, April 25th, 2015

The other day, while procrastinating on Twitter, as I’m often found doing, I saw a tweet go by from the amazing director of Selma, Ava DuVernay. It said that she was participating in a talk this past Wednesday for the Tribeca Film Festival. Now I was instantly intrigued and knew I wanted to be there. But me being me I had to go to my usual second guessing and I got to thinking if I really wanted to take the trip down to the city, take on driving and parking and oh who am I fooling, it all came down to if I really wanted to get dressed and put on real pants and shoes and go out.

Well, I’m so happy the pants and better sense won out. It was my dear son’s day off from classes so he was more than happy to go as my “date” and he even urged me to bring along a copy of one of my books and some postcards (I guess paying for all those business classes isn’t for nothing).

The two of us headed down to the west side of 23rd street and upon our arrival we were greeted with a long but patient and enthusiastic line of what seemed to be mostly were writers and film students. And to the horror of my poor DS I went to snapping pics as if I didn’t grow up in the city and attend college at FIT right up the street. Who knows? Maybe I’ve been in the burbs a little too long, but whatevs. They don’t put cameras on these phones for nothing.

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Once we were inside there was a short delay as we waited for Ms. DuVernay to make it in from the airport and her red-eye flight. The delay was no big deal to us as we were inside and comfortable and the room was full of fans of her work.

When Ms. DuVernay arrived along with the immensely talented, Q-Tip who was her interviewer for the hour, there was little doubt that the wait was well worth it. Q-Tip was a well prepared and through interviewer asking many of the questions that we all wanted answers to and Ms. DuVernay was just wonderful. She was friendly, thoughtful and candid with her answers. As well as generous with sharing her opinions and advice.

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Here are just a few of her insightful words that resonated most with me:

Her mission: “To magnify the magnificence of black people.”

Wow! I could just stop with there. Isn’t that just beautiful?  I just about gasped in my seat. With all the negative images we have been bombarded with for so long and the awful injustices that have been brought to life recently thanks to social media this just makes me want to stand up and cheer.

But I’ll keep going. She also spoke about her work and her responsibility to it saying, that it’s no one else’s responsibility to make the things she wants to see. Which also spoke to me and the stories I tell. Yes, I write for my readers and my fans, but ultimately these are the stories that speak to me and the ones I want to tell. If I’m not filling my own well then this is all for nothing.

Getting to Ms. DuVernay’s process: I was only too selfishly happy to hear that a genius such as herself also struggles with writer’s block as I do. Now I know there are those that say there is no such thing as writer’s block and try as I might I’ve tried really hard to embrace that philosophy (mostly by searching out articles over the internet when I should be writing) but I just can’t. She also has accepted procrastination as part of her process and recognizes that she is fueled by the deadline crunch. Something else I can definitely get behind and see in myself.

On working and ‘making it’ in a white male dominated profession: I loved Ms. DuVernay’s strong opinion and slightly ‘what of it’ attitude to it all. It is what it is and how we should just do what we do and go for it. She spoke about women too often asking for permission for things we don’t need permission for. I’ll just leave that right here with an amen.

 

Lastly, she spoke about her motto which is “Stay Shooting.” Which means to work your creative muscle. Don’t take breaks and don’t get stagnant or stale by being stuck in one box. Very good advice. I think I’ll take up a version of that and tack onto my bulletin board:

“STAY WRITING.”

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Thank you, Ms. DuVernay for sharing a wonderful hour with us!

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Lets not talk about my closed eyes on this pic. Ava is holding BOUNCE here and  that’s all that matters.

#WeNeedDiverseRomance

 

 

All the best,

KMJ

If You Don’t Know Now You Know… You Know … The Call!

Wednesday, April 15th, 2015

Those in the know will recognize the nod the Notorious B.I.G. in my blog title. Those who don’t, I’m sorry about that, it’s the lyric that’s been running through my head for the last week or so that along with the probably much more appropriate, gospel lyric, “I’m so glad they prayed for me.” Both are almost equally fitting to my monumental feelings right now.

A little over a week ago, after more years than I’d now care to admit (I’m getting up there ya’ll) I got my first ever CALL. You know the one that all writers dream of and daydream about and make up elaborate stories around. Well, nowadays THE CALL can oftentimes come via email but this one actually did come on the phone.

But before the CALL I did receive an email from my new rock star agent, Rachel Brooks, with the L. Perkins Agency with the subject line: CAN I CALL??? In all caps. And her being the amazing magical intuitive fairy she is, knowing me oh-so-well for the neurotic I am, she put in the email that she had good new and a super fun gif of two women in a lather of excitement because she also knows I love a gif way too much.

The Call

I quickly answered her back, yes, and to that Rachel called and let me know that after so many years of trudging my way, I had received an offer from the amazing Selena James for a 3 book deal plus a Novella with Kensington Book’s Dafina imprint. Hold the phone!

What the- Get. Out. Of. Town!

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Here is the official announcement from Publishers Marketplace.

 

Publishers Marketplace Deal 4-14 B

I am over the moon right now and so thrilled to be welcomed into this new publishing home. Not to mention, but to mention, being humbled and honored to be in the presence of so many talented writers who have come before me at Dafina.  Talk about blown away.

I know my late Nana is smiling wide right now. Her prayers and mine plus those of my mother and all my family and friends have been answered and I hope to make her and the rest of them very proud.

Kwana & Nana

Thank you all, and especially my ever patient Dear DH, so much for all your continued support and love.

I can’t wait to see what the next few years bring us!

 

All the best with all my heart,

KMJ

 

 

#WeNeedDiverseRomance

Holiday Longings… 12 Days of Christmakwanzakah Blog Hop!

Friday, December 12th, 2014

12 Days Revision

 

Hi Friends and Happy Holidays once again. I’m so thankful to my RWA Chaptermates Alyssa Cole and Julia Kelly for inviting me to join this fun 12 Days of Christmakwanzakah Blog Hop where a bunch of us authors share original short holiday themed stories.

Today I’m doing something a little out of the norm for me and going back in time a bit to Christmas in the Roaring 20’s. I hope you enjoy …

 

Holiday Longings

 

December 1923

 

She could do this. She could and she would because she had to, Rosemary, thought as she stepped shakily onto the nightclub’s raised stage.

bigstock-Beautiful-lips-and-eyes-11827739 (3)Rose swallowed, then winced a bit as the harsh glare from the bright stage light pivoted and hit her eyes. In an instant, the deceptive, almost reserved class of the place disappeared and Rose chided herself for being momentarily sucked in by the superficial opulence of the underground club. The snowy white tablecloths, the glittering crystal chandeliers, even the surprising touches of the holiday season, the sprigs of holly, the pretty wreaths that lined the back mirror of the bar, they were all a façade. A rouse, designed to suck her and more importantly, those with money in, their pockets full until those pockets were good and empty.

But no, this was no homey Christmas wonderland. And as the bright light hit her eyes and brought an unwelcome chill down her spine, Rose was indeed reminded of just where she was and what type of place she was standing in. Paradise 57 was an underground speakeasy, albeit one with a better address than some, and above ground no less, out in the open for all to see, but a speakeasy all the same. In its official capacity it was a nightclub and a restaurant, but all in the know in New York knew it was run by the latest up and comer on the New York crime scene, Stone Donnelly. And those in the know also knew that Stone made his fortune taking over the illegal liquor trade for his late uncle, the notorious Shawn Donnelly.

At the thought of Stone, Rose felt the knot in her stomach tighten just a little more. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in his club, coming to him for help, but life and the circumstances of the day would bring many to bend so why should she be an exception?

The spiral downward spiral started a month ago and seemed to pick up speed from there.  But unlike the never ending flow of liquor, Rosemary’s money had come to an end officially three days ago and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold, Mrs. Davis, her land lady off. The woman was all walking Christian kindness when there was a crowd gathered but as soon as she got her chance and caught Rose alone, coming back from her volunteering over at the mission, she quick as she could, pulled her aside and got in her face with that hot whiskey breath of hers going on about the rent being past due.

God fearing her ass. Rose inwardly winced once again, this time at the unkind thought. Her mother would be so ashamed of her. Her father, the late reverend, even more so. Be it a saint or a sinner, we were all were God’s children in the late Reverend and Mrs. Longings eyes. But Lord help her, in that moment, in that cold hallway, Rose had to step back from the stench and pray for her strength as she tried as politely as she could to pull her arm away from her landlady’s tight grasp and not haul off and give Mrs. Davis a what for right across her lip as she leered at Rose’s open collar and suggested she give up her time down at the mission for more lucrative time spent on her back.

“God does for those, that do for themselves dearie,” Mrs. Davis had said by way of a thinly veiled threat with a bit of scripture sprinkled on top to make the stench and the leering at Rose’s undone collar just that much more unseemly.

After finally pulling away and closing the door behind her to the now hollow feeling fifth floor walkup apartment, Rose let herself slide to the floor as the tears fell and the loneliness took over her. Frustrated, she wiped at her face. Maybe it wasn’t loneliness. Maybe she it was just hunger. She hadn’t had dinner at the mission that night as there was hardly enough to go around to the children. “Hell!” She clapped a hand over her mouth at the improper language then dropped it. “Dammit to hell!” She yelled. The old lush was probably right. It was time she stepped out and did for herself. Both mother and father were now gone. Taken by the illness that had stricken so many, them plus eight children at the mission this past month alone. And if truth be told, at times Rose wished the sickness had taken her too. But she couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t that that happen. That would be the worst sin of all. If she let herself slip off and die where would that leave the other children left behind?

 

“You ready miss?”

The kindly voice of the piano player brought Rosemary back to the here and now.  It was time to pull it together. She had to put the past behind her and live in the reality of the moment. And in this moment she was on stage, in a secondhand dress, showing too much below and way too much on top, but it was all part of the act. And act she would do. The time for sweet Rosemary Longings was no more. Today she had a role to play. One that Mama and Daddy may not be too proud of, but if they were looking down on her, it was one she would hope they would at least understand. It may not feel like Christmas, but still she prayed for a miracle all the same. If she could get a job here in his club maybe she could make enough money to continue to stay in her home and maybe, just maybe she could keep up the work at the mission that her father had started.

Reverend Clancy, who’d taken over, was all well and good, but sadly he didn’t seem to have the same passion for the children’s well being her parents did. She could already see where his efforts were being directed elsewhere and she feared the children would soon be phased out. Besides, she’d sung on street corners plenty of times before, asking for donations and such. How was singing here so very different? Rosemary blinked against the glare of the light and let out a breath. This may be a far cry from a Harlem street corner and these would not be hymns she’d be singing, but still she’d sing them all the same and in the end she’d sing them for the Lord.  She bit at her lip. Well, in a way.

Rosemary looked down at the sparkling black and white checkered dance floor as the piano player begin to tune. Her heart skipping with every odd note. It was probably for the best that Stone wasn’t there for her audition. On the one hand with him she’d get the humiliation over with quick and easy. And with him there would be no hiding who and what she was as a mulatto. She knew this club was whites only and only hired Negroes as servers and kitchen help. Sure she was stepping way over the line auditioning to be a performer, but the fact was the performers here made more than a server could ever dream of and her desperation had her dreaming big right now. Besides, it wasn’t her fault that the big beefy guy at the back door took only a quick glance at her pale skin, mostly the parts below her face, and assumed she was white. Normally she would correct him but right now she was hungry. Hungry and desperate. Now if she could only make it past the manager, Mr. Bonner maybe by the time she got to running into Stone, if she ever did, she be fully hired and working and he wouldn’t kick her out on her ear for breaking his club’s rules.

The piano player coughed at the same time as the club’s manager, Mr. Bonner spoke up sharply, bringing her out of her thoughts. “You going to blow or not, girlie cause I ain’t got all day and there are plenty of other chippies just waiting their turn?”

Rose’s chin came up at his tone and she felt her nostrils flare. But she paused at the unnerving sight of his leering gaze, the slight narrowing of his eyes. Something in that hard stare made her skin go all prickly. Rose knew that look. This would not go well.

A tall dark skinned waiter came and whispered something in Bonner’s ear and he nodded then laughed while still giving Rose that glare. His eyes narrowing further, he leaned back and licked his thin lips. Though she was fully clothed, Rose suddenly felt naked and exposed and her stomach churned disgustingly. He saw through her and she knew it. If this was just a waste of time and she should head uptown. She’d heard about a new club up there that was looking for girls like her. The pay wasn’t as good but she could give it a try.

Just when she was considering grabbing her coat, the piano player again this time with the first strains of the popular standard that she told him she could audition to but suddenly the words escaped her. That was it. It was a sign that she had no business being here in this den of inequity and needed to turn tail and run.  Apologizing and running off the stage was on the tip of her tongue when the manager shook his head beating her to it.

“Just stop. It doesn’t matter anyway, Girlie. I can’t believe you’re wasting my time. Where the hell is Tony at?” He yelled now pushing up from his chair. “It’s not like we’re gonna start hiring ne—,” suddenly he was quieted when a hand came to rest easily on his shoulder.

“Let her sing.”

“But Stone,” the manager started.

“I said let her sing.”

Rose was paralyzed by the deep voice that was soft, but so strong that it traveled clear and easy across the room. It was dark and commanding and had a slight Irish lilt that she had come to know from her time spent working with her father when he would do his once weekly missionary afternoons down by the docks. But there was more. This voice was one she knew all too well. This was the voice from her past whisperings and her never ending late night dreams. But it had changed. Oh my, how it had changed. Gone was any hint of the playful mischievousness that would coax a laugh out of her at the most inappropriate times, causing her father to send a stern glance their way and her mother to take on a worried expression. No, this voice was all shadows and smoke and if she imagined its taste she’d think it tasted of the illegal liquor he was rumored to be the king of smuggling into the New York underworld.

When Bonner didn’t protest any further, but instead took his seat, the hand smoothly lifted from the manager’s shoulder and the rest of him moved into the light.

Stone stepped from the shadows like the beacon of the hope she had been longing for, but despite it something made Rose take a take a step back at the same time her body seemed to tensed up and lock tight.

She knew in that moment that she had indeed made a huge mistake. This wasn’t the boy she knew. This was a man who could break her with the slightest touch.

His eyes held her transfixed as he started to glide forward. And a voice in her head told her to run while her heart thudded in her chest stealing her breath making the task impossible.

Run. That’s what they were supposed to do. At least that’s what he’d told her on that snowy afternoon so many years ago when he’d kissed her goodbye and stolen her heart along with her grandmother’s gold cross after he’d been nursed back to health at the mission run by her father and taken care of by her and her mother. Nothing had been said of his mysterious appearance at the back door far after closing time. Nothing said of the police who came looking for him, but where not told of the young man still passed out from the apparent bullet to the shoulder in the storeroom behind the Reverend’s office.

When he was healed and back to his sly talking, slow charming self, he said he’d take her, his Sweet Rose as he called her. Take her and run away with her to a place where they could be together and not be judged as her parents were for their mixed love. He left with her gold cross and promises to return for her, but once he was gone he was just gone.

And now here she was standing before him literally ready sing for her supper.

Well, she couldn’t do it. Her pride wouldn’t let her.

Rose took another step back and  hit the edge of the piano just as he made it to the stage and with his long legs took a wide step up to stand in front of her. His blue almost grey gaze hitting her like an iceberg and freezing her heart.

Breaking away from her gaze for a moment he gave the piano player a curt nod and a now haunting melody swept over Rose as he looked into her eyes once again.

“You going to sing me a tune like you used to my Sweet Rose?”

“My name is Rosemary Longings and I was never yours.”

He smiled at that and Rose sucked in a breath as the swift memory of first love and stolen kisses never forgotten rushed to her mind.

“If you say so Miss Longings but in my heart I know the truth.”

Her eyes narrowed as a surge of hot anger happily replaced the chill running through her body. “Your heart can burn in hell, sir.”

His laugh was loud and surprising. “No doubt it will, my dear, but that doesn’t change the moment at hand. Will you sing or have you lost your voice?”

He raised a brow and Rose wanted nothing more than to tell him where he could take his audition. But something in his eyes wouldn’t let her. She looked around and saw Bonner looking so smug, half expecting Rose to do just want she wanted, turn tail and run. No way, she wouldn’t do it.

She looked back up at Stone. His eyes so icy and clear that she felt for a moment as if she could walk through them and enter into forever. She shook her head and saw the corner of his lip quirk up. Knew in then and there that forever was long gone and all they had was this moment.

With that thought, Rose tilted her chin, opened her mouth and filled the room with a melody of lost loves, times forgotten and memories that can never be relived again.

When the song ended she was spent and Stone was silent. Yes, Stone was silent. Bonner was silent. The whole room was hushed.

Unnerved, Rosemary finally turned away and went to reach for her coat on the piano when Stone reached out, his hand touching her elbow with a gentle caress. She looked up at him. It was warmer than she expected giving the chill of his eyes. He then took her hand and placed something in her palm. She opened it and looked down shocked to see her grandmother’s old cross now cradled in her palm.

“Welcome to Paradise, Sweet Rose. Merry Christmas.”

 

All the best,

KMJ

 

 

Freedom!

Wednesday, December 10th, 2014

I don’t know why, but I’ve got George Michael on the brain today so thought I’d pass it on and share a little Freedom Flashback with you.

I hope you enjoy.

Oh and I finally ordered new canvases from Easy Canvas Prints  with my new self pubbed Creative Hearts Covers and they came in so I updated my wall of Almost Famous (please excuse the glare). I hope your Wednesday has been wonderful!

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All the best,

KMJ

Looking Through…

Monday, November 17th, 2014

I can’t believe we’re already into the new week and talking about the holidays. I’m so not ready and right now I’ve got warm sand and the tropics on my mind as I try hard to get my current WIP finished. As a matter of fact I’ve made a vow to myself (that I’m already half breaking by writing this) that is it’s all new writing on my WIP this week. But no matter I had to pop by to let you all know about my big Kindle Countdown Deal sale on Through The Lens this week. For one week only you can pick up Through The Lens for only .99 cents!

 

Here is a short excerpt from Through The Lens:

Through The Lens sale

 

She sucked in her stomach along with her breath and leaned back against the tree trunk closing her eyes. The slight pricks from the worn bark on her bare skin a welcome distraction to her anxiety. She listened to the sound of her own slightly too loud breathing and hoped Ale couldn’t hear it, too. But all too quickly it was replaced by the click, click, click of Ale’s shutter advancing. Fast. So fast. Mika’s eyes shot open. And there he was. Moving around her with the grace of a panther.

“My God, Mika.” He said her name like a prayer. Like she was a revelation to him. He shot the pictures as if they were an extension of his own breathing—and to him maybe it was.

She didn’t dare move. She just watched him, her eyes wide, her lips trembling.

His long finger moved quickly. Click, click click. She thought she could see his pulse jump beneath the beautiful muscle of his neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered practically to himself.

“No, I’m not, but thank you,” she said softly.

At the sound of her voice Ale stopped shooting as if coming out of a trance. “Yes, you are. So very beautiful.”

She watched, heart skittering, as he put the camera down at his feet and came toward her.

This kiss wasn’t punishing and it wasn’t wet and it wasn’t to shut her up. And this time Mika welcomed the whimper that escaped her lips.

 

 

You can pick up Through The Lens HERE

 

All the best,

KMJ

Mrs. Independent… It’s a Creative Re-Launch and a Giveaway!

Monday, October 13th, 2014

 

I’m all full of the feelings today because today is the official launch day, well, the re-lunch day of my Creative Hearts Series under my own banner! I am now my own publisher and the series has a sleek and sexy new look thanks to the genius that is Mae Phillips at Cover Fresh Designs.

Meet the men of The Creative Hearts… Alejandro, Mark & Nick.

creative covers

As of now the books are all available in E format through Amazon and will roll out to other vendors in the months to come. The print versions will be available coming in November so look out for that announcement soon.

Please be sure to sign up for my Newsletter to stay on top of all my breaking news. Just click here or the box on your left to sign up and leave a comment in the blog comments section to let me know you signed up and tell me which Creative Heart hero you think would be your favorite to be entered in the 10.00 Amazon Gift Card giveaway. It’s that easy and I trust you to sign up.

10 amazon

Please Tweet about the Giveaway or share on Facebook and tell me about it for an extra entry. Don’t forget to leave your email contact info in the comments. Winner will be announced on Monday 10/20.

 

Through The Lens (Creative Hearts: Book 1)

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Mika Walters is a normal-sized woman working in the not-so-normal world of New York fashion. As longtime assistant to uber-sexy photographer Alejandro Vega, she’s tired of being the girl in the background. Just once she wants Alejandro to look at her with the same smoldering look he gives to his willowy models and now she has her chance. Stranded. After a travel mishap where the rest of the crew and the models can’t make the remote island location shoot for another three days, Mika is taking her moment to catch Alejandro’s eye and put herself in front of his camera and if all goes to plan, his bed . . . at least until the real world catches up with them. Alejandro doesn’t know what’s gotten into Mika. Maybe it’s the sand, maybe it’s the sun, but he doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he’s finally opened his eyes and is seeing her clearly for the first time as the smart, gorgeous, and incredibly irresistible woman she is. But why can’t she realize that what he’s feeling for her is not one of his usual one, well, three night stands. This is real. Real love, real passion. What’s it going to take for him to prove to Mika that she’s the woman he wants? Now and forever.

 

Seduction’s Canvas (Creative Hearts: Book 2)

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“I want to paint you” Artist Samara Leighton had wanted to say those words to the sexy motorcycle rider who lived in the building ever since she first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. But now that the words were out she couldn’t stop her heart from beating wildly in her chest.

“Honey, you don’t have enough paint to cover me.” Security specialist Mark Thorn didn’t mean to come off as a hard ass. As a matter of fact, he wanted nothing more than to let the tempting artist from across the hall do whatever she wanted to him and then some. But her haughty demeanor left the normally cool rider off his game.

Samara knew this was her only chance to live out her long-standing fantasy and she wasn’t going to let it slip through her fingers. She had very little time before her show was done and the pressure of her family legacy meant she would finally go through with living out her life under the umbrella of the Leighton name and its responsibilities. There would be no more downtown jaunts, lazy museum afternoons, and evenings spent lost in the magic of color and her canvases. And definitely no time spent holding tight to the muscular form of her dark rider while the horrors of her past and her cares drifted further away with each mile of road they covered.

 

Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts: Book 3)

Threads of Desire

 

Sexy fashionista Gabrielle Russell has been challenging Nick Ross most of his life and now is no exception. A top financial analyst, Nick has been dating his boss’s daughter and he’s on the fast track to turning his five-year marathon into a three-year sprint. But life throws him a curve when he finds his perfect girlfriend curled up in a very un-zen like position with her yoga instructor. Faced with this awkward downward dog, Nick heads to the only place he can think of – his brother Steve’s place – only to be stuck face to hips, thighs, lips, just about everything with his roommate, Gabby. She’s the habit Nick just can’t shake. The one that got away and she won’t let him forget it.

Gabrielle is frustrated. She’s been banging it out for years as a curvy girl trying to make her creative mark on the exclusive world of New York fashion and she’s hit a brick wall both personally and professionally. Now stuck in a dead end job designing jersey pantsuits for wannabe mafia wives while dodging the advances of her boss’s son, she doesn’t know how to get out of the hole she’s dug for herself. At least she has a bit of peace in the small apartment she shares with her childhood friend and roommate, Steve.

Or she did until Nick Ross – Mr. Perfection and her own devastation, the one who broke her heart and almost broke her spirit – walked in. And now he’s back and looking for a place to camp out while he gets his life back on track. Well, she’s got news for him: She’s not the same girl she was all those years ago when just a look would send her heart stuttering. Okay, maybe she is, but now maybe it’s time the tables were turned on the unflappable Nick Ross.

 

As always thank you so much for all your cheering and support. You all are the BEST!

 

You can pick up your copies of the books here:

Through The Lens

Seduction’s Canvas

Threads Of Desire

All the best,

KMJ

Without change…

Wednesday, September 10th, 2014

There are some big changes in the works over here in the land of KMJ. I’m both nervous and excited as I embark on a new chapter in my writing and publishing journey. I can’t thank you all enough for sticking with me through it all (I truly am grateful for you all, the best readers an author could hope for).

You may experience a few technical difficulties while I’m ironing out the kinks  (for a while some of my titles will be unavailable as I get them ready for re-publishing) but I’ll thank you all in advance for your patience as I work on coming out shiny and new on the other side.

change

In the meantime please click here and sign up for my newsletter to be one of the 1st to hear announcements about the new and exciting happenings in the KMJ world!

jack read me a

 

As always I’m wishing you all…

all the best,

KMJ

 

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Many Faces…

Monday, July 21st, 2014

From me and all the many faces of Jack…

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We wish you a wonderful week and hope it’s filled with laughter, joy and many great books. We’d also like to once again extend an invite to our new private TEAM KMJ fan page where this week on Wednesday, July 23rd at 9pm we’ll be having a group chat about THROUGH THE LENS. I’d love to have you join us where the team and I will be discussing beach reads, office romances and I’ll be answering all your probing questions.  I hope so see you there!

through the lens

 

All the best,

KMJ

They Say It’s My Birthday!

Wednesday, June 11th, 2014

And a big part of my wants to just sweep it under the rug or at least sweep myself under the covers, curl up go back to sleep and pretend this day didn’t even happen. It’s silly I know and totally wrong. I shouldn’t be focused or worried about the fact that I’m no longer the dewy faced young’un I used to be, in fact I should be celebrating the fact that I’m not. That girl was a hot mess and for the most part didn’t know if she was coming or going most of the time.

Now hold onto your laughter, I can hear it from here. You’re all saying but, Kwana, most days you still don’t know whether you’re coming or going. This is true, but it’s less days than it used to be and that’s a great thing. I may not yet be where I want to be and heck, I may not exactly have a picture of where THAT is, but I do know I’m closer to it than I was a year ago.

I have plenty to celebrate in my uncertainty. I have a wonderful family, great friends, a super DH, fantastic kids and still one terrible terrier. Hey, I’m not one to brag (snort) but when I take a moment to stop and think of the good, instead of focusing on the not so fantastic it doesn’t take long to realize how truly blessed I am (note to self: do this focusing on the good more often).

Happy Birthday to me indeed!

birthday girl

 

Another thing that’s pretty great about hanging now in the middle of the age pack is that I don’t feel the need to beat about the bush about the things I mean to say or the things I want. You’re not going to find me being all passive aggressive (subtweets aside) (though I was never much for that, maybe the shortest of times in my early 20’s during the odd newlywed stage). But now it’s now pretty much in my head then out my mouth and to that I’ll take a page from my mom and just say what I want for my birthday this year leave out any pesky guessing. The gift I’d like the most is for friends to pass the word on about my work this year past. As still a mostly under the radar author I’d love it if you’d tell someone who doesn’t know me about one of my books. That would make my day. More than that, tell 2 friends, and so on and so on… and it would make my year!

Either way just having you stop by as you have been has made the past year more special than I can say. Thank you for being one of my undeserved, but so thankful for blessings this year. Cheers to a fabulous year ahead.

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Birthday Tweetable:

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All the best… with all my love,

KMJ

 

image from Tumblr