Spotlight on Ere's Secret by Firi Kamson - @tmkamson #Romance

Ere's Secret by Firi Kamson
Genre: Women's Fiction, Contemporary Romance

I have a secret.
In three days, I'll be turning 40 and I'm in love for the first time. Decades ago, I sacrificed my life for the good of my family. But tragedy struck too close to home, reminding me of the brevity of life.

Now I have a choice to make: continue living in shadows or allow my true self to emerge.

My life was uninteresting and would have stayed that way until I met Luke. This was a chance meeting and I could say we were destined to meet, who knows. It was a Sunday evening and I was at this point tired of my life and living my life as society wanted it to be lived. It was the day I defied all odds and subdued my nerves as I went into my closet and put on a black pair of pencil jeans and a black loose fitting Tee-shirt, that Cassandra, my oyibo Canadian neighbor who never took no for an answer, even though she had been unsuccessfully trying to invite me for coffee at hers for years; gave me.
Surprisingly, when I put this on, it struck me how much weight I had lost. I looked like a skinny school girl instead of a 38 year old mother of three. Ignoring the inquiring looks my boys gave me, I told them I was going out with my friends. Further ignoring the equally curious look I got from Musa, our old reliable gateman who refused to leave us when Opuada died and was content with
whatever I could pay him. With a straight face, I told him I was going out and would be back in a couple of hours. 

Firi Kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream, she dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in
foreign languages and literature speciality French. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for, as Tee,
an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in south east Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who knows one day it would be fulfilled. She lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first work.

Firi Kamson would like to hear from her readers so you can send her an email or check out her site 

Or follow her on Twitter @tmkamson 

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Wednesday Quote - #CountingStars
Source: One Republic Lyrics - Counting Stars
Found from: 

What I #AmReading this week! #AlienneMine #SciFi
So, I went way off course for my reading this week. I've been mostly focusing on horrors, thrillers, and heavy romances, but this week, I went for a SciFi with sweet touches of romance. I really enjoyed the first book in this series, Dragon Dawn, so when Deborah O'Neill Cordes released the prequel, Alienne Mine, you can pretty much guarantee I jumped at it. 

I'm looking forward to sinking my teeth into this novella. And doesn't Steven Novak make the most beautiful covers? Wow. 

Find Alienne Mine on Goodreads here

The Russian Guns & the Marcellos are now available on Kindle Unlimited!
So, this is kind of an announcement from me regarding two of my series. Both The Russian Guns as well as the Marcellos are now available in the Kindle Unlimited program with three exceptions. Demyan & Ana, Dante, and Antony will not be added to the program for another couple of weeks due to vendor contracts. The titles will stay in the program for the required 3 months and then I will go from there on whether or not I want to put the titles back on other vendors again. 

But, for now ... they are free on Kindle Unlimited! 

Deathless & Divided, my upcoming release, will also be available through Kindle Unlimited after release. It will release on all other vendors in December/January. 

Links below ... click on the cover for which title you'd like to go to! 


Author @LivRancourt talks King Stud! @EvernightPub #Romance

When my agent and I were working through edits on King Stud, one of her comments had to do with the title. “You might need to think of a new one,” she said, “because it sounds a little porn-y.”

She had a point, and yet I ended up leaving the title alone. I couldn’t think of anything I liked better, and I have a bit of a soft spot for how I came up with it in the first place. See, my husband’s a finish carpenter, and when I first started writing a book about a guy who helps his older sister’s friend with a remodel, I turned to my in-house consultant for help. 

I told him I wanted to use construction lingo, and between the two of us – me googling and him tossing out ideas – we came up with King Stud. It’s a real term, describing the extra 2x4s that frame windows and doorways, and as a title it makes me laugh.

It also works really well with the other, yet-to-be-written books in the series: Loose Cannon, Same Love, Rock Solid, and Queen Bee.

So there’s some heat to King Stud, but it’s really not as porn-y as the name implies. Without taking itself too seriously, the book tells a story of remodeling and family and love.


Danielle’s got three months to make her Grandmother’s rundown Craftsman house livable. Her game plan is to get in, get grubby, and get back home to L.A. She needs a carpenter, and her best friend’s younger brother is a good one. It’s hard to ignore the buffed body under Ryan’s paint-splattered sweatshirts, but her friend declares he’s off-limits so Danielle reluctantly agrees.

Ryan doesn’t have the cleanest record, anyway. His recently ex-ed girlfriend wants him back, and he has a reputation for brawling. He’s also had a crush on Danielle since he was a kid. Despite their nine-year age difference, he knows she’s worth pursuing.

Soon the paint under Danielle’s fingernails starts feeling more natural than the L.A. sunshine. She’ll have to navigate plumbing disasters, money problems, and one seriously cranky best friend to find something she hasn’t had before: a real home, and a man who loves her.


A pair of headlights streaked across the front window, interrupting her bid war. A minute later, heavy footsteps crossed the porch. Then someone knocked hard on the door.

She jerked out of the chair, her confusion exacerbated by the heavy pounding of her heart. No one should be here. The door rattled like someone was messing with the lock. She made a sound halfway between a bleat and a scream when the door opened.

Ryan came in. "Hey, you're here," he said, dimples flaring.

"What are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” She braced herself on the table, pulling in a deep lungful of air.

He just stood grinning at her, hands in his pockets, curls gelled into something close to order. The laptop streamed soft music that all of a sudden sounded romantic, and she panicked, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. 

“Glad you think this is funny,” she said. 

 “I thought you’d be out with Maeve.” He held up his hands, calming her, placating her. She really wanted those hands touching her.

Down girl.

“I just had to finish up a couple things.” She straightened up and rested her knuckles on her hips. Instead of his usual worn jeans and tee shirt, he was dressed in black pants and a light blue button-down shirt that looked like silk and made his eyes crazy bright. His tie was navy and he'd changed out his usual UW hoodie for a black leather jacket. "You look … um…"

"Company Christmas party." He spoke too quickly, like there was something going on under the surface. 

"You should be out hanging with your crew." And not here torturing me.
"I need to take the clamps off those cabinets I glued up."

The expression on his face had nothing to do with carpentry. He took a couple steps toward the dining room, then veered over to where she stood, moving fast. She fell back, carried by his wave of energy, and in seconds he had her up against the wall, his hands bracketing her head, his hips pressed tight to hers. 

"Ryan, no. What are you…"

He covered her mouth with his fingers. "Sh. Just let me be close to you for a minute."

She tipped her chin up and his fingers slid down her neck, stopping when his thumb hit the hollow at the base of her throat and his strong hand cradled her shoulder. He rocked forward, resting his mouth against her forehead. 

She stood still, caught up in the heat of his breath on her skin and the soft woodsy smell of his aftershave. 

"I know I'm not supposed to do this, Dani." 

The scratch of lips against skin made her mouth water. "It's … okay. Just … we shouldn't."

His head turned and lowered. He meant to kiss her. If he succeeded, there was no way she'd stop. She wanted him so, so bad. He cupped her face with both hands, pinning her.


His mouth closed over hers like the final piece of a puzzle dropping into place. She stilled, time stopped, the universe paused. She didn’t push him away.
Sometimes not choosing becomes its own choice.

Instead, she reached up and grabbed the collar of his silk shirt and hauled him closer. This was what she wanted. To hell with all the arguments against it.

He shoved a thigh between her legs, and his hands grew rougher, grabbing her hair to change the angle of her head. He tasted of mint and gum and beer. The heat rose between them, and oh my God she wanted it. Wanted him. He pulled back, flicked her lips with his tongue. The sound she made was nearly a sob. She drove her hands under his leather coat and pulled his shirt free. When her fingertips reached the warm, velvety skin of his lower back she almost sobbed again.

His kiss got harder, rugged, more demanding, and his hands dragged her ass closer still. Her body lit up, her core turning to liquid flame. He got under her sweatshirt, kneading her breasts. Her head rocked back against the wall and her laughter swirled out under the exquisite torture of his hands on her nipples. His lips and tongue mauled her ear and down her neck, and she keened a victory sound, tiny and high-pitched, her hips rocking slowly against the growing bulge in his groin.

She went to work on the buttons down the front of his shirt, ready to indulge in exploring his muscular chest, but he wrapped her hands in his and shifted his weight away from her. 

When he spoke, his voice was rough, heavy. "I'm sorry." He turned slowly, moving like a man three times his age. "Jesus, I know you don’t want … I'm sorry, Dani."

She let the wall support most of her weight, breathing hard, all that warm liquidy goodness turning to ice. Her sweatshirt rode up around her ribs and her bra was off kilter. She tugged everything back into place, embarrassment verging on mortification washing over her. Why the hell did he stop? He'd acted on an impulse she felt just as surely as he did. Then he tipped forward a little, unsteady, almost losing his balance, and she put the pieces together. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

He scrubbed his face with his hands. "A bit."

"A bit too much." She punched his shoulder. He reached out like he would gather her in for a hug, but she sidestepped him. "None of that, now. Let me get my stuff together then I'm going to drive you home."

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Um, right. Give me your keys."

After a brief staring match, he flipped his car keys in her direction. She'd seen pain in his eyes, hiding behind a whole boatload of frustration. 

All emotions she could relate to. 

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I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire…or sometimes demon...and I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.

I can be found on-line at all hours of the day and night at my website and blog, on Facebook, or on Twitter. Come find me. We’ll have fun!