New Release – EXIT STRATEGY – Follow-up to 50SoJF Is Here! ~ #OCT #EroticRomance #50SoJF #ASMSG

I could say a lot of flowery things right now, and I could wax on forever about the difficulties faced in getting this book to you, but I won’t. I’m just going to say, finally, and without further ado, I give you: EXIT STRATEGY!!!!!

ExitStrategy_LVLEWIS_Ecover_final

Cover Design by:

CoverMeCreative.com by © krischarbonneau@yahoo.com

Photo Credits:

Cover Image – Passion © Chris Schmidt – Track5 Photography via iStockPhoto.com

Vintage Carriage Return © Editorial via Dreamstime.com

BUY LINKS for Exit Strategy:

Amazon , B&N , Smashwords

Author L.V. Lewis revisits the world of Keisha Beale and Tristan White from her Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever in Exit Strategy!

summary (1)

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 a former sub 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.

Nothing Ventured…

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.

…Nothing Gained!

Will this be the end of the indecent arrangement 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.

Master w Whip

L. V. Lewis doesn’t have the financial means of Tristan White, but she wouldn’t want readers to go away from this new release empty handed, so she’s giving all readers the chance to win some fabulous prizes.

This time there are too many to list, but you can read the list and “Like” or “Follow” the Authors participating in my Release Day to enter the attached rafflecopter giveaway!

Giveaway Time

The giveaway will run from now until November 28, so like and follow my friends, then tweet about the giveaway daily to increase your odds of winning!

The giveaway will run from October 29th – November 28th.

During the week of October 29th – November 5th, Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever will be on sale for $.99!

DISCLAIMER:  If for some reason the book doesn’t load on all the platforms by the release date, this will be due to circumstances beyond my control. I apologize in advance for any snafus that might occur.

 

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.

L. V. Lewis’s Exhaustive List of Contact Info:

 Email: lv.lewis148@gmail.com

 GoodReadsTwitterFacebookThe Block, & Pinterest

L. V. Lewis’s Buy Links for Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fifty-shades-of-jungle-fever-l-v-lewis/1113713451?ean=2940016251004

http://www.amazon.com/Shades-Jungle-Romance-Quadrilogy-ebook/dp/B009ZL7DJQ

http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/fifty-shades-of-jungle-fever

http://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Fifty+Shades+of+Jungle+Fever&adult=on

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/fifty-shades-of-jungle-fever/id675824660?mt=11

https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/l-v-lewis/fifty-shades-of-jungle-fever/_/R-400000000000000964102

Where Is Exit Strategy? – #31WriteNow

Book Cover onlyAs I’m sure you are all aware by now Exit Strategy, the follow-up to Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever is several months late. I have decided to address this issue head on with a blog post because I really don’t want my readers who have stuck with me through all my issues to give up on Exit Strategy.

Before I explain what’s going on with me, I just want to say first and foremost, I write because I love it. Before Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever I wrote other things under other names, but never a novel. Unfortunately, fiction writing is not my career. I have a demanding full-time job, a full-time family life, a weekly young women’s mentorship program I co-manage with another woman, and my writing.

I list writing last, not because it is the least important of all these other things I do, but because in my world, it is extremely important (it’s most likely a close second to my family). It’s so important, I have sacrificed things I once loved to do it, such as watching television, sewing, crocheting, singing in a choir, going to movies, etc. The only other thing I haven’t given up is reading, because it’s important to being a good writer. And thank God for my Tivo, otherwise, I wouldn’t get to see any shows I like.

There has been a series of unfortunate events that have occurred since my foolhardy first anticipated release date for Exit Strategy. I won’t go into them again here because they’re documented all over my blog, Facebook, and other social media. Suffice to say, as a newbie novel writer, I flubbed the release date big time. I take full ownership of that. Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever was written during my downtime at work in 2012. When I set the release date for Exit Strategy, I failed to take into consideration that from January to June of 2013, I would be inundated with work. Even so, I managed to write sixteen chapters of what I planned to be twenty plus chapters. Then I had an accident, and it has gone downhill from there. I’m won’t recount all the other things that have happened because I know it’ll only sound like an excuse.

My Plan: In mid–July (when I knew I could get back to finishing Exit Strategy) sit down at my computer each and every day and pound out the last third of this novel. I anticipate writing non-stop for several weeks and getting it done. End of story.

What Really Happened: Most days I sat there, staring at a blank screen with only the words Chapter 17 glaring back at me.

Yes, I have a grand case of writer’s block. I alluded to this several times, the last of which was my blog post on “Ruminations about Book Promotion.” However, I’ve decided now is the time to call a spade a spade. Like any writer worth their salt, I am trying the various remedies writers way more prolific than me have used to overcome writer’s block and recorded in the annals of writerdom. I am writing every day (maybe not Exit Strategy, but writing nonetheless), and varying my projects to see if I’m just blocked on that one story or if all creative writing is affected. While I can write a bit on other stuff, my anxiety won’t allow me to do so for long.

So, it is time to come out and let my readers know, because I don’t want you all to hate me. Every once in a while, I get an email, a post, or something from a reader that makes me feel bad, because believe it or not, I’m not withholding Exit Strategy on purpose. I would benefit more than anyone if I could get it out tomorrow. However, I’ve chosen to wait to provide you the quality you deserve, not a quick fix.

I'm SorryIn the past few months, I’ve sometimes felt like a shady politician trying to figure out various ways to spin things so I wouldn’t have to come out and just say, “I’ve got nothing.” (Where is Olivia Pope when a sister needs her?) I’ve let my readers down, and it hurts—in the words of Keisha Beale—“like a mofo.” Please know that this was never my intention. I want to go on record and apologize and to let you know that as soon as my creative juices are flowing again and my muse isn’t punishing me for some unknown offense, I will finish Exit Strategy. Then I will notify you of a solid release date, and all will be right in the world again.

Book Release News & “Exit Strategy” FSoJF, Book Two Excerpt

As I promised readers, here is another excerpt from “Exit Strategy” Book Two of The Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy, but first I want to give you some book release news:

I’ve shared with some of you that I suffered a fall on my job at the end of January and injured my right (dominant) hand and left shoulder. Together with some knee scrapes and elbow contusions, I was a hot mess for a minute. I visited my Workers Comp doctor today and she tells me that I’ll be undergoing physical therapy so I can get my full range of motion back beginning in about a week.

What this means for book two is that it might be late. I was in the middle of doing some major rewrites to get it completed (the original told from only Keisha’s POV, was being re-written to include Tristan’s POV), but I have fallen behind. I am currently, and will be, working hard to get it to you as closely to the promised publish date as possible. However, once I’m done, I’ll have to get it to my editor, and then my formatter, so please, bear with me 🙂

In the meantime, Book One is, as I write this, being prepped to go onto Nook, Kobo, iBooks, Smashwords, All Romance eBooks and the whole gamut of formatting venues. Please tell your friends with other platforms they can now read from the comfort of their own devices in the next couple of days!

imagesExit Strategy, Chapter 1

(This is a scene that occurs almost immediately after Keisha safeworded at the end of book one. And please remember, this is unedited.)

 

Tristan is right on my ass invading my personal space. “You’re not leveling with me, Keisha.”
I walk out of the closet, and he follows as I get my purse and make a beeline for the stairs. I’m taking two steps to his one trying to get down the stairs and out of there before I lose my composure. His next question hobbles me.
“Why were there so many domestic calls to your parents’ home the six years before you went to college?”
I stop in my tracks in the middle of the stairway and round on him.
“Did you do a fucking background check on me without my permission, or something?”
“It’s standard procedure when I take on a new sub. It was in the NDA which–if you recall–you didn’t read very well.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I have a Scarlet O’Hara moment and raise my hand to slap him, but he grabs my wrists like a vise and won’t let go. He pushes me against the wall and traps me with his body and holds my hands immobile above my head. I’m pissed that he’s apparently been snooping into my background, and perhaps already knows much more about my family history than I would care for him to. I use sarcasm to downplay the severity of what went down in the Beale home all those years.
“My parents fought. Houses are close together in the hood, and the goddamn neighbors were nosy. Satisfied?”
I struggle to get away. He releases me but dogs my steps down the rest of the stairs.
“Domestic abuse has been known to be the cause of PTSD for children in that situation. Aren’t you going to tell me what your triggers are, Keisha?”
I turn and push him so hard he falls back against the stairs. He grabs me and brings me with him as he falls taking the brunt of the impact, and we lay splayed on the stairs, a jumble of arms and legs together. I scramble to get up and off him, but Tristan holds me firm. I struggle, but he won’t let me go. He holds me with the strong band of one arm across my back and one large palm across my ass, and I feel that he’s aroused, and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make me get wet on cue. I sag against him, betrayed again by my wanton body.
As I’m about to look into his eyes and acknowledge my defeat, I see the arrogant smirk on his face. He waggles his eyebrows. “Even now, you want me, don’t you, Baby?”
He laughs, and that ticks me off to the point that I seriously begin to fight him. Somehow, he maneuvers until he’s on top of me, prying my legs open with his knees and holding my arms down with his own. He kisses me in that way he has of exploring my mouth as if it’s some mysterious uncharted territory. I am not going to give up easily, so I fight him with everything in me, even as I kiss him back. Talk about conflicted in the extreme.
I fight him like Maria Bello fought Viggo Mortensen on the stairwell in the movie A History of Violence. Tristan anchors me with his mouth, and holds me down with his body while he takes a leisurely stroll over my flesh with his hands. He tweaks both my breasts until my nipples are hard enough to cut through the fabric of my clothes, then his hand moves over my torso to caress my stomach down to the apex of my legs where he finds my underwear drenched. He pulls his lips away for a moment, and his blue eyes bore into mine.
“Your body hasn’t decided it’s ready to leave me, yet,” he says and slips two fingers under the seat of my underwear and buries them in me to his knuckles.
“You—Ugh! Let me go.” I struggle in earnest again.

Keisha & Tristan Getting Busy
Tristan silences me with another kiss until I give in, stop struggling, and kiss him back with an urgency that is ridiculous given how hard I was fighting him just moments before. He rips my underwear down my legs, tearing them in the process, undoes his pants, and he’s inside me. All I can do is pull him down, and take all of him because that is what I want more than anything else. I am going to leave him later today, and I won’t be back. This will be our last good fuck—right here on his stairs, half-dressed, rutting like we didn’t just do this the night before.
Our breathing is ragged, almost savage as we strain into one another on the stairway. I can feel the carpet burning into my exposed flesh, but I don’t want him to stop. There is a dull ache inside me from the previous night’s activities. I don’t mention it, so Tristan shows no mercy. He gives it to me like he never has before, and I take it likewise. I will probably feel this for a couple of days, but that’s okay because afterwards, all I’ll have will be memories. I am going to miss the way he takes command of my body and makes me feel like my bones are going to liquefy. I give myself over to him, and it isn’t until after he’s orgasmed that I gasp in panic.
“Mrs. Naven . . .”
“Is visiting . . . family in Evanston . . .” He pants, and continues to thrust into me, stubbornly, his blue eyes boring into mine. “How . . . can you leave this . . . Keisha?”
“Watch me,” I say. I hold his gaze as long as I can until he exacts an orgasm from me as powerful as his own, his kiss stealing the scream that rips from my throat.
Tristan rolls us so his body isn’t pinning me to the stairs, but he doesn’t let me go. He holds me so fast and so close, the tears that have threatened begin to fall. I wrench away from him before he sees me, and stumble Mario Bello-style up the stairs to clean myself up.
“Please wait until morning to leave,” he says. “I’ll have Mrs. Naven pack your things, and Moses will deliver you home safely.”
When I get to the landing, I look back to see him still sprawled on the stairs, his eyes closed, practicing what looks like the breathing exercise my psychologist taught me. It takes everything in me to leave him there.

An Excerpt From Book 2 – In Celebration of 100+ Reviews

Keisha & Tristan Getting BusyFirst, let me apologize, readers, for allowing this milestone to slip by without commemorating it on the day it actually happened. Yes, I now am officially over the 100 review mark on Amazon, but I’m still chipping away on GoodReads (I’m about 21 ratings short, and 61 reviews short).

I’d anticipated providing a bit of a sneak peek of the, as yet unnamed, second book in the quadrilogy to celebrate, but between traveling around the holidays and coming back to a very labor-intensive work schedule on my day job, I’ve had to let some things go. Because writing daily on the second book isn’t one of those things, sadly my promos and engagement with you on the social networks have truly suffered. It is my hope that this sneak peek of a scene in book two (between Tristan and Nate after Keisha leaves) will give you enough inspiration to send all your special thoughts and positive energy my way, so I can get this baby done!

Disclaimer: This has not been edited, so forgive any grammar, punctuation faux pas, and if this scene in its current form doesn’t survive the editor’s pen.

So without further ado, here’s the set-up: After Keisha packs her things and leaves, Tristan goes into his gym to work off some steam. He’s rather over-zealous and trashes a couple pieces of gym equipment in the process. He’s forgotten that Nathan comes by every Saturday he doesn’t have an away game for their fencing match. His brother finds him collapsed on the gym floor watching the sand cascade out of a heavy bag:

Chapter 2 – Book 2,  Excerpt

Nathan is half-way across the gym floor when he sees Tristan’s expression and visually recoils.

“I’ve only seen that look on your face twice,” Nate says. “When Mom died, and after Aimee’s accident. What’s up?” He’s in his fencing whites, clearly having expected they would have their standing Saturday morning match since he wasn’t on the road.

“Nothing to the tune of those tragedies,” Tristan says, swallowing a bolus of denial. He stands up, glowering at his brother.

Nathan finally sees his hands. “Whoa. What the fuck? Tristan, you’d better clean that shit before it gets infected.”

When Tristan doesn’t move, Nathan sets his gear on the floor against the wall and grabs some peroxide, Neosporin and gauze off a shelf in a cabinet below the wet bar. “Plant your ass on this bench over here.”

Tristan gives Nate a baleful glare, but does as he says. Nate sits beside him, takes Tristan’s hands and quickly cleans them with the peroxide, applies the antibiotic and begins to wrap his hands to absorb the blood seeping from his thoroughly bruised knuckles.

Nate breaks the silence sooner than Tristan anticipates. “So, you want to tell me what’s got you beating the hell out of your gym equipment?”

“I’ve got to find another goddamn submissive,” Tristan says. “And I don’t have time for this shit. I’m leaving for Hong Kong next week.”

“Then why’d you end it now?” Nate finishes off the first wrap, secures it and begins on the next one.

Tristan contemplates letting him believe he ended the arrangement, but Keisha’s roommate is Nate’s submissive so that won’t fly. “I didn’t end it she safeworded.”

“No way! Jada says her roommate was really into your buttoned-down ass. How’d you let this shit happen?”

“I didn’t let anything happen. She started having anxiety attacks in the role-play room. It frightened her. I tried to get her to stay so we could work it out, but there was nothing I could do to convince her.”

“There is something you could’ve done.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You could’ve given her some hope.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You always follow the letter of the contract with your submissives, and you tell them up front it’ll never amount to anything more. Mine have stayed longer because they’ve believed, however, erroneously in most cases, that the relationship could eventually be more. Didn’t that shit that went down with Aimee teach you anything?”

Tristan jerks his hand away and clamps it around Nathan’s throat. His hand hurts like a bitch, and even more so when Nathan pries it away, grips the sore hand and squeezes it mercilessly for good measure. It’s like they’re ten-fucking-years-old again and squabbling like they did all the time.

Tristan and Nathan - 10 Years Old

“Fuck!” Tristan yells, and wrenches his hand away, scowling.

“Stop bitching and left me finish this.” Nathan reaches in and finishes the wrap. “There.”

Tristan eyes the gauze already soaked through on the hand Nate squeezed. “I knew I should’ve called Angel to do this. You don’t have a goddamn clue about ‘first do no harm.’”

Nate looks at the sad deflated speed ball, and the heavy bag still dripping sand. “This from a guy who just took out his frustration on his gym equipment? Dude, you better get Keisha back, because I don’t think your gym, or a new submissive can survive you going back to being the asshole you were after Aimee.”

Tristan stands and stalks away, throwing as much vitriol as he can into three parting words over his shoulder. “Fuck you, Nathan.”