General Writing
Nadirah Foxx  


Happy Friday! How are you? Are you ready for Christmas? Me? Not so much. We’ll be ready, but I need to some more shopping.

I’m also making plans for 2022. My publishing imprint will make a significant change next year and add a THIRD pen name. Nadirah Foxx will become the home for adult dark romantic suspense. Over the past few years, I’ve developed a fondness for these type of tales. It just makes sense that I focus on writing them. I’ll let you know when I have a release ready for this genre.

In the meantime, let’s check out the next installment of Love Struck!


Part Seven


Steve drove for about an hour before pulling off PCH and heading up Topanga Canyon Boulevard. I wanted to ask where we were going, but I thought it best to stay quiet. After a while, he made a right onto a dirt road. At the end was a shoddy wooden structure with a rickety porch.

He killed the motor and rushed around to the passenger side. Seconds later, Steve yanked the door open. “Get out.”

I hesitated. 

“El, what did I say about playing games?”

It was clear I was dealing with someone who didn’t possess a full deck. I quickly got out of the truck. Steve grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the house. He unlocked the door. Then pushed me inside.

The place was cold and dark. Steve flicked on a light. I kind of wished he didn’t. There was a raggedy recliner near a window. What looked to be a loft hung over the kitchen. A ladder attached to a beam was the only other thing I saw.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“Our love nest. Bathroom is next to the kitchen. The window’s small, so don’t try anything stupid. You’ll never get out that way.”

I pointed to the ceiling. “What’s up there?”

“Our room.” He smiled and then waved his hand. “Go use the bathroom. I left you a little something.”

Knots coiled in my gut. I didn’t want to know what that guy left me. It couldn’t be good. Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom. It was painfully small. A toilet, basic sink, and a shower stall. Steve hadn’t lied about the window. The only way to reach it would be standing on the sink, but that contraption wasn’t firmly attached to the wall. One step, and it might crash.

What did Steve leave me?

No cabinets or shelves.

I opened the shower stall. Hanging from the spigot was a sheer black chemise with a plunging neckline. A pair of clear stiletto heels sat on the shower floor. Steve had to be out of his fucking mind if I thought I’d wear a hooker outfit for him.

The bathroom door opened. “El, don’t be shy. I’ve seen you in less.”

My mother wore outlandish, scandalous clothes on stage, but that was early in her career. Over the years, she favored leather pants and skimpy tops.

Play along, I told myself.

“How about I change clothes later? Got any food? Booze?” If I were lucky, the fool would have to go to the store and leave me alone.

“Don’t worry. I have a full meal for us. I even bought your favorite booze.” He jerked his thumb toward the shower. “Get dressed. I’ll set up the table for us. Maybe eat first and then sex?”

Not if I could help it.

“Tell you what. Let me fix the food. Take a shower and make yourself comfortable.” Play to his vulnerability. “It’s just like in my song, What My Man Wants.

Steve leaned against the jamb. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“The song is My Man Wants It.” He walked away from the door. In the distance, Steve said, “Get changed, El.”

Maybe I could figure a way out after we ate, and he fell asleep.


Leave A Comment