Alpha Male to the second power describes my characters, twin brothers, Tristan and Nathan White in Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever and Exit Strategy. Born into old Chicago money and having created a metric ton of new money in their own rights, these brothers are the epitome of the alpha male. These legacy dominants share the proclivities of kink and control with the patriarch of their small family, Charles Xavier White.
Introduced into the lifestyle by one of their father’s former lovers at the tender age of seventeen, these twins have known what they’ve wanted in and out of the bedroom for almost two decades. Here’s more info about both stories:
Author L.V. Lewis creates a colorful BDSM world for Keisha Beale, a post-college African American woman and Tristan White, the billionaire venture capitalist in Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever and Exit Strategy, a loosely parodied version of those wildly popular books by E.L. James!
Fifty Shades of Grey meets Keisha from the block!
Keisha Beale is a quarter of a million dollars away from realizing her dream of opening her own recording studio. A botched attempt at securing the funding required from venture capitalist Tristan White leaves her without many options… until Tristan White makes an indecent proposal. As Keisha navigates the treacherous environment of the billionaire’s secret kinky lifestyle, she discovers surprising things about herself and unleashes demons from her past she thought were long resolved.
Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever!
Cover Design by:
Male Image – © Sweet Trade Photography
Female Image – © Jazmin La.Shae Photography
Chicago Skyline – © Grzegorz Kieca via Dreamstime.com
Tristan practices impeccable manners despite my annoyance with him. “Nathan, this is Keisha Beale. Keisha, Nathan.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Nathan.” I gush like a fan, and he grins. Then I turn and rail on Tristan. “What was so damned important it couldn’t wait until morning? You woke me and my roommate up, and our nosy neighbor. What is wrong with you?”
“You were right, Tristan, she does sound like a Domme,” Nathan says.
Tristan looks at me, his eyes hooded. “Tell me about it.”
“I asked you a question, Mister.” I say, sounding just like my mother.
His eyes become a tad more alert. “I got your voice mail,” he says simply.
My mouth falls open, and I don’t have time to respond because, at that moment, Jada re-enters the room, hair-combed, teeth undoubtedly brushed, and wearing mascara, and lip gloss. I blink wide-eyed at her. She breezes in as if we’re receiving guests in the early evening.
“So, you’re the infamous Tristan White,” she says and offers her hand to him to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jameson,” he says. “From the business plan you drafted, I can tell you’re every bit of the shrewd business person I know your father to be.
She waves him off. “Daddy might have said something similar about you. Oh, and call me Jada. We’re going to be business partners after all.”
“I certainly hope so,” Tristan says and glances at me before he turns to introduce his brother. “Jada, this is my brother, Nathan.”
Nathan stares at Jada with his mouth open, as though he recognizes her, wants to jump her bones, or something.
Jada moves to Nathan with two hands out and clasp his. “This guy needs no introduction. We see you in our living room almost every week during basketball season.”
Nathan absently shakes her hand, squinting. “Have we met?”
Jada is adamant. “I don’t think we have.” Then she waffles, “Well not formally, anyway. We may have attended some event at the same time, but then we were both in the presence of other companions, I’m sure.”
What the hell? I thought she said she was “dying” to meet him. Looks like they’ve already met.
I don’t have time to think about that. Tristan grabs my hand. “Jada, Nathan, play nice. I have something I need to square away with Keisha.” I follow, half-running to keep up with his long strides. He looks from one door to the other in our tiny hallway. “Which room is yours?”
I point right, not sure my voice will work. He hauls me into my own bedroom and shuts the door, pinning me against it. He kisses me in all my morning-breathed glory. I try to avoid giving him access to my tongue, but his is stronger. Knowing that resistance is futile, I relax and let him sanitize my saliva until I taste only what he tastes like. I think it’s Scotch, but I can’t be sure.
When he decides to come up for air, he releases me abruptly, and I’m a limp noodle against the door.
“How can you say no to this kind of passion?” He asks.
I think I whimper, because my thoughts are so fucking garbled at the moment.
His hands go to his knees, but he forces himself to stand upright again. “What are you afraid of? Do you need to do a trial run?”
“I just don’t like the idea of being involved with you when we’re doing business together. I’m going to apologize to Princess Danai and see if she’ll take our project on.”
“I wouldn’t approach her right now if I were you,” he says. “I had to talk her out of pressing charges, and filing a lawsuit against you.”
I cringe. What did I expect? Her eye is probably still some variation of black and purple right now.
“Oh.” That’s all I can muster, faced with my current reality.
“If you’re going to open in a little over three weeks, I’m the only shot you have of doing that,” he says.
“What happens if this,” I gesture between us, “doesn’t work out for us? I need assurances that Kente doesn’t become one of your acquisitions if this doesn’t work.”
“Have you read the contract?”
“I’ve included a provision for that. I think the language says that if personal relationships are severed, White Enterprises will ensure that your company is backed by another entity before we part ways, amicably.”
“You would do that?”
“Right now, I’d do anything it takes to make you mine.”
My Triple-G and my Fairy Hoochie Mama both faint in a synchronized swoon.
Damn, this white boy is off the chain.
Ex*it Strat*e*gy (noun) 1. A preplanned means of extricating oneself from a situation that is likely to become difficult or unpleasant. 2. The method by which a venture capitalist or business owner intends to get out of an investment that he or she has made in the past.
Will Keisha and Tristan exercise their elaborate EXIT STRATEGY and end their unorthodox arrangement?
Assailed by demons she thought she had conquered, Keisha Beale has uttered the words to end her tumultuous relationship with Tristan White. Separated, they grapple for a time with their personal demons. However, when their lives apart become unbearable, a credible threat brings them back together prematurely.As they seek to discover who is responsible for the threats, several seemingly unrelated incidents throw them into a tailspin. Will Keisha’s youthful indiscretions or Tristan’s un-reconciled feelings for an ex derail their tenuous arrangement?In the meantime, trouble in Nathan and Jada’s paradise send dramatic ripples that hint of future difficulties in the idyllic pairing.
Tristan uses his vast wealth and connections to correct a gross miscarriage of justice, while Keisha makes herself utterly vulnerable to Tristan and fears he has chosen to exercise his own exit strategy.
Will this be the end of the indecent proposal that became a fairy tale? Or will Keisha and Tristan reveal the trauma from their pasts so they may heal and completely embrace their relationship?
Sensual, suspenseful, and still infused with the riotous levity of Triple-G and Fairy Hoochie Mama, the Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy departs from full parody with a distinctive take on love, loyalty, sacrifice, redemption, and acceptance.
“Tell me again why you can’t stay?” he says as we stand in front of the elevator.
“Because it’s just not a good idea. And I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Actually, you do,” he says. “Mrs. Naven found some things in the laundry after you left. Problem solved.” He takes both my hands and backs up into the sitting room.
“Tristan, we still have some things to sort out. Tonight was great, but I still don’t think I’m cut out to be your submissive.”
“Just my submissive?”
I drop my head. “No. Anyone’s.”
“You’re afraid you’ll have panic attacks again, aren’t you?”
I feel like I’m about to be swallowed up by the sincere blue eyes tracking and pinning mine so effectively I can’t look away. “Yes. And I’m no use to you if I can’t endure the scenes, particularly the occasional disciplinary consequences.”
“What if there was a way you could?” His finger traces a gentle path down my cheek.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. If there was a way we could work around the panic attacks, would you come back? For good?”
“You mean until you perfect your exit strategy? That’s what you venture capitalists call it, don’t you?”
“Ah, someone’s been paying attention at our semiannual business meetings?”
“I have a rather exacting mentor who insists on being heard.”
“Asshole,” he says and pulls me close.
I place my hands on his chest in an effort to sustain some emotional equilibrium, but he doesn’t let me go. “I’m the one who’ll be ass-out when you lose confidence in your investment and decide it’s time to diversify your portfolio again.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, Keisha.” He draws me closer, palming my hips, and I get his point. Pun intended. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
I slip out of his arms and put some space between us. “Chemistry has never been an issue for us, Tristan. I know your lifestyle is important to you, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up.”
The truth is, I’m hopelessly in love with a man who hasn’t given me any indication that he will ever want a real relationship. Nothing has changed on that front. He still just wants just a Dominant/submissive relationship, which might enjoy a longevity his other arrangements haven’t had, but it will eventually end.
Can I really do this? I certainly don’t think I’ll become any less in love with him over time. Reentering a sexual relationship with Tristan now would be exceedingly counterproductive to the reasons I left in the first place, but I am hard-pressed to make myself walk away again.
Tristan moves so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his skin, his breath wafting over my ear as he speaks. “We’ll take things slow—again.”
He runs a finger along my arm, and gooseflesh sprouts like ivy in its wake. I feel a pull toward him that can only be described as magnetic—my body eager to be reunited to his. Even though it could conceivably be more painful for me this time around, I’m not sure if leaving him again is within the realm of possibility. I can’t rationalize staying, but leaving becomes increasingly more difficult with each second I remain in his presence.
I turn to face him. “Slow isn’t necessarily going to keep the attacks at bay.” Or guard my heart if he decides he’s done with me.
“We’ll figure out a way to do that together.” He takes me into his arms again. “These three weeks have been … just please stay.”
I look into his eyes, and all I want to do at that moment is kiss him senseless. He may not have given me a declaration of love, but somehow I know this is as close as I’m going to get with a man like Tristan White. For now.
As an answer, I stand on my tiptoes, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him with everything in me.
L. V. Lewis doesn’t have the means of Tristan White, but she wouldn’t want readers to go away from this guest post empty handed, so she’s giving all viewers the chance to win prizes via her New Release Giveaway with a chance to win one (1) of four (4) prizes ($20 Amazon Gift card, An audiobook of Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever, An audiobook of Exit Strategy both, $18 values, and one bundle of both e-books $7 Value) at the conclusion of the Giveaway!
The giveaway will run until January 10th at midnight.
L.V. LEWIS’S CONTACT INFO
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L. V. Lewis has one foot in South Georgia and the other in North Florida. She’s been blessed with a husband who’s put up with her for a lot of years and has given birth to four children, two of whom she has raised to adulthood and one to near adulthood. She delights in her almost empty nest status so much that she writes the kinkiest novels she can conjure up.
Visit her website at WWW.LVLEWIS.COM
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