Talan wants to mark Maya—with more than his ink. The owner of a prominent tattoo shop, he’s used to being hit on by easy women. Though “easy” is not a word associated with Maya when she comes in to support her friend. Flirtation ensues, but what will it take to break the painted man.
I absolutely fell in love with this cover and Synopsis, and couldn't wait to get my hands on it. It's a short read, but definitely packs enough punch to make the reader want more after its over....
Talan, goodness I can never be disappointed by a tattoo artist and this man is sexy as hell. I wanna reach in and lick those tattoos myself, maybe have him draw something up for me too? LOL. He owns his on shop and has worked hard for what he has. He's a typical player not looking to settle down just the hit it and quit it scenario. I can't blame the man really if these women schedule appointments with him, specifically for that purpose. I loved his character, he was real and loyal to his friends and employees. He doesn't let ANYONE talk about his girl either. You mess with her and you basically done. That protectiveness made me open up to him just a little more, too. There were times though that I felt like he was bull shitting around not going after Maya the way I wanted him to though, but we got there in the end.
Maya, she too cute! A body made for sin and a heart of gold. She knows what she wants out of life, career, and a relationship and won't take anything less. She was a bit reluctant to let Talon in and she grew quite frustrated with his actions more than a few times, but she wasn't scared to voice her opinions. When Talon is in need for some help she jumps at the chance to help him out and meets some crazy people along the way. Maya is definitely a character I want to see more of. I know this series isn't over and from the preview of the next book, I really want to know her side of these stories.
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- Where did you come up with the storyline behind Marking Her?My husband was working late one night and I was pissed that he was going to miss our weekly Tuesday SOA date night. I was pouting and channel surfing, when I landed on a tattoo contest and the vision of Talan came to mind. I loved the idea of him falling for a someone younger and being a tattoo virgin.Unblemished skin that he hungered to mark.
2. What was your favorite part about writing this book?Learning about all the different types of tribal markings . . . I fell in love with the Polynesian culture and how unique and beautiful their work is.
3. Do you have a favorite scene? If so, what is it?The ending, when he gives in so to speak. I can’t elaborate, but I always knew where I wanted this book to finish, and I was very pleased with how it turned out.
4. Where did Talan's character come from? Is there a inspiration behind his character?He is a mixture between my husband, and how I would love a tattoo artist to be . . . bold, confident, and cocky. Secure in their skin and with a dominating presence that leaves you panting with a mere look.
5. Where did Mya's character come from? Is there a inspiration behind her character?She is me. Short, loud, and sassy.
6. The ending has a cliffhanger, where is the story going?I can’t tell you that, but I will assure you an HEA and a crazy, hot, and sometimes scary ride along the way.
7. How many books are in this series?At the moment 3.
8. Any thoughts you want to share with your readers?Thank you for all the support you’ve given me through this journey. I’m amazed and humbled everyday by you all, and can never put into words how much I love you.9. Future projects in the works? Any release dates?Marking Him #2 (Marked Series) is what I am working on at the moment. The release date is still not set in stone, but I’m looking at some time in the spring. As for other books, I have three other books planned, but no timetable as I still need to finish writing them ;)
“When’s my next appointment?” I asked my receptionist Janice while making my way around the front counter. I’d just walked out Lance’s crush and wanted the day to be over.
“You have one more, Talan. Esther is due in twenty.”
“Fuck, I forgot about her.” My body slumped against the counter. The boys and I were hoping for the evening to be slow, allowing us an early night.
“That’s why I’m here, handsome. To serve you in any way you need,” Janice purred, and I sighed as I flipped open my laptop and logged in. I’d made the mistake of wetting my dick in her a few months back when she first came through my door. Afterward, she became jealous and clingy, wanting more than I was willing to give.
The only reason she was still there was because she had bigger balls than the other two fuckers that worked there. Janice could handle the leers, gestures, and jokes like a pro, but fuck with her inventory or dirty my shop, and she will rip you a new one.
“Janice, cut that shit out,” I demanded before storming off toward the back and into my sanctuary. The guys all laughed when I walked by. I flipped them the bird and continued on into my room.
An hour had passed since I’d asked Janice if I was clear and there was still no sign of Esther. It was the usual for her. The woman would be late to her own funeral, but this was a new one for her.
She was never this late.
I was becoming agitated by the lack of common sense people had to pick up a goddamn phone. How hard could it be to let me know if you’re coming or not? There was just something about a person’s lack of punctuality that pissed me off. Not caring if I had shit to do or places to be was plain rude.
I was worked up to the point of walking out the damn door.
“Janice,” I called out into the now empty shop. She’d insisted – once the boy’s left – in staying behind to help me set up, not listening to my refusal. “Call Esther and reschedule. I’m beat and—”
“I’m here,” Esther yelled, rushing through the door. “Traffic was a bitch and I—”
“Save it and get in my chair before I kick you out,” I grumbled and rubbed my throbbing temples.
“But, I brought—”
“Is he always this rude?” a soft, feminine voice I didn’t recognize asked.
I looked up, and was startled by the sexy little thing that stood before me. She was young. Much younger than what I was normally attracted to; at the most this little nymph was twenty.
The beauty had black hair; wavy and tousled locks that swept down to the middle of her back, with side-swept bangs across her forehead. Her face was sweet, innocent, while her gray eyes spoke of mischief, and in my case, trouble. Lips, those fucking cherry-red lips, were plump and inviting—the perfect Cupid’s bow that begged to be nibbled.
I let my eyes traverse her short frame and my mouth watered. She truly was an itty-bitty thing. With my six-foot-four frame, I towered over her, dwarfing her delicate one.
My feet carried me closer to where she stood, next to Esther in the receptionist area. I wanted her laid on that black marble top so I could feast on her. The drought I’d been on as of late might have been making me desperate...then again, looking at her was making something within me want to just take, consequences be damned.
We watched each other; she followed my every move and I, her every breath.
My eyes dropped from her perfect face to hungrily devour her chest and a shiver ran down my spine. The two pert, no bigger than a handful breasts, sat high on her chest. She wore a simple camisole that did little to hide her obvious happiness to meet me.
My cock twitched as her nips puckered.
I continued my assessment and found my hands clenching the second her narrow waist and flared hips came into view. My nails dug grooves into the palms of my hands, the slight pinch keeping me in check. The desire to pull her closer, grab onto her flesh, and leave my prints behind was almost unbearable.
She was a slim petite thing, with the sexiest pair of legs my eyes had ever seen; they were bare for my enjoyment. A tiny pair of denim shorts barely covered her lower region, marking every groove and molding onto her sinful flesh as if they were a part of her.
I was hard.
“Wow,” a voice coughed to my right, pulling my eyes away from Bitty.
“You can say ‘thank you’ for my gift now and eye fuck her later.” Esther laughed while Bitty turned red around the cheeks.
This cute little thing blushes?
“Talan, it’s getting late,” Janice interrupted suddenly, “and we have plans.”
“I’m sorry,” Bitty spoke up, turning to Esther, “maybe we should come ba—”
“No.” The word popped out before I could think to stop them.
“Yes.” My glare cut off Janice before she could continue, eliciting a chastised look from her. Who the hell did she think she was to be so rude and hostile toward my client and someone who, I hoped, would soon be my friend?
“Enough, Janice.” I let the words come out encased in a low, warning growl before turning toward the two women with raised brows. “You two head on back.” Bitty went to protest at my command, but instead bit her lip, causing me to groan. Fuck, I need to get this situation under control. “Esther, you know the drill; lose the shirt and get comfy. Bitty, I want—”
Bitty crossed her arms, scowling adorably. “Who you calling ‘Bitty’?”
“You, sweet thing, now quit interrupting me.”
Bitty huffed, but I saw no real annoyance in her expression.
“Talan, can we have a word please?” Janice butt-in, again. If this chick didn’t leave soon she was going to find herself without a job.
“No, and for fuck’s sake—go home.”
“But,” she whined and gave me a ridiculous pout. The two other girls in the room laughed. Janice didn’t appreciate this and turned her icy glare on them.
“Come on, Es, seems the big, bad, tatt boy has his hands full,” Bitty cooed with a sexy giggle and pulled a nosy Esther behind her. The two walked off, down toward the room with my name on the door. They walked in, and while Esther went to strip, Bitty closed the door.
Her eyes—those damn cat-like grey eyes—set on mine, blazing with amusement while she winked then pushed the door closed.
“What the fuck was that?” Janice hissed once they were both out of earshot. “You should have a little more—”
“Get out,” I said through gritted teeth.
Janice’s jaw jutted forward in defiance. “Are you into that little girl?”
I pointed toward the door. “Out and quit pushing . . . you’re walking a fine line.”
Hurt flickered in her eyes. “Talan, I—”
“Go home, Janice. Go home before I fucking lose the last bit of patience I have today and kick you out permanently.”
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.