Sunday, November 6, 2011

Welcome, Mahalia Levey who knows THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE!

Hi Cerise,
Thanks for having me on your blog. For those of your readers who don't know me, I'm multipublished and write a mixture of genres that include: Interracial romance, Contemporary romance, Military Romance, African American romance, BDSM, Shapeshifting Demon horror/paranormal dark erotic romance, Shapeshifting Tigers, Gargoyles and an assortment of other animals, I'm dabbling in Sci Fi and have one Cosmic short romance. My book lengths vary from 8 thousand words to forty-seven thousand words. I like variety and I go where the characters in my head lead me! I'd love to give a back listed copy away of one of my previous books to one winner today!
my links are and . You can find me on Facebook by searching Mahalia Levey. I have a fan page and an author page!

The Price of Defiance Available from Decadent Publishing.
America Patterson loves living on the edge. Living a double life, she car models by day and engages in illegal street racing by night, knowing she's one of the best. Underneath her flawless facade lies a young woman filled with turmoil. When her new found hobby lands her in hot water, she finds she may be in over her head.
Alejandro Escovedo is summoned home after his Mixed Martial Arts fight to find his best friends sister in jail, he knows he must intervene. Their explosive past gives him all rights where she’s concerned. He’s determined to end her dare-devil ways by finding the trigger to her self-destructive behavior.

Excerpt: Copyright 2011, Mahalia Levey. All rights reserved.

Antiseptic…sterile…death… The smells assailed her as she woke up. Amy raised her hand to feel her head and felt the tight pinch of handcuffs on her right hand. “Where am I?” She focused her blurry eyes until her vision cleared and saw a police officer sitting next to her.
“In the hospital for observation,” the uniformed officer answered.
“Why am I handcuffed?” she asked. Confusion clouded her judgment.
“You’ve been under doctor care for twenty-four hours. The EMT’s were able to rouse you while en route here. I read you your rights while transporting you in the ambulance. Do you remember why you were arrested?”
“No.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “My head hurts.”
“My name is Officer Blake. Do you know your name?” Officer Blake took out his pen and pad to take notes.
“America Patterson,” she answered.
“That’s not what the drivers’ license in your purse says. We’ll print and book you later,,” the officer stated and pulled out his radio.
“I’m going to jail?”
“Normally, people who vandalize private property, drive with reckless abandon, race illegally, and possess a fake identification card go to jail.”
America cringed. “Where’s my car?”
“Don’t you want to know if you harmed anyone?” he asked.
“I know I didn’t. I drove into the warehouse because I knew it was abandoned.” His rude tone annoyed her. She put her free hand to her head. “It hurts.”
“What’s left of your car is impounded for evidence. Lady—whatever your real name is—is there anyone you can call?”
“No…yes,” she said.
“Which is it, no or yes? You’ll need to be bailed out.”
“Where are my clothes?”
“What clothes? You had to be cut out of your car with the jaws of life. Your shredded clothing and broken heels are bagged for evidence, along with your purse.” He reached over and unlocked the cuff to free her hand then gave her his personal cell. “You’re damn lucky to be alive and relatively unharmed. Make the call. We’re leaving as soon as the doc clears you.”Amy heard the lecture in his voice. She took a deep breath and gulped back the fear of being escorted to a jail cell. She dialed her brother, Saint Vincent’s number.
“Hello,” a worried voice answered.
“Hi.” Amy sniffled.
“America, where are you?”
“Saint, I’m in big trouble.” Amy gripped the cell tightly to her ear. “I’m at Truman Memorial Hospital, about to be taken to jail.” She started to sob when reality dawned on her.
“Thank God, you’re alive. I’ve been going out of my mind since the link to the wreck was sent to my cell phone. Sit tight. We’ve been fielding police and the media, trying to protect your professional name. Sis, Alejandro demanded to be the one to handle the situation.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Her brother and his team of misfits were all she had while growing up. Being named after their country of conception and proved just how zany her family was. Saint Vincent got his name chopped in half to Saint. “Is this going to hurt your business?” She winced at the thought of seeing Alejandro again after so long.
“No. Alejandro will make sure you have a smooth transaction. I’m forwarding him your info now. Sit still and relax. Can’t have the baby of the family locked up and forgotten.”
Her voice dropped an octave. “Can’t you come? I haven’t seen him since—”
“Miss, we’re ready to transport you to the police department,” Officer Blake interrupted.
“I gotta go.” Amy snapped the phone shut and handed it back to the officer. He was kind enough to leave, allowing her to change into the scrubs they’d sent for. She rapped and opened the door after toeing into the slip-on canvas shoes. “I’m ready.” Head dropped low, she allowed them to escort her to the jailhouse that was a ten-minute ride away.
Being booked took longer than she’d expected, and it mortified her. A nifty machine imprinted her fingerprints electronically after they took her mug shot. The issue with her identification became clear once she had a chance to speak and separate her professional identity from her personal one. When they finished processing her fingerprints and mug shot, she followed them through general population and looked at all the criminals on the way to her holding cell. The door buzzed and opened, and she was ushered in. She cast a glance at the officer, who shook his head, locked the door, and turned his back.
I’m not a criminal.

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