Book 1 Cover of the Secrets of the Samurai is revealed. ONE HOT DARE is ready for pre-order, with release in July. Click here to pre-order in Amazon; Nook; iBooks
Kenzo (Ken) Kotaro is an Irish-Japanese bodyguard with the latent power of a samurai. Right now he’s opposite of all the qualities of a samurai. He’s a gambler, rolling stone when it comes to women, and cynical about life as a biracial outcast.
He has been trained in martial arts and in the secret ninja camps from early years through his college years, when he finally left home and the practice. He makes ends meet by hiring himself out as a bodyguard.
His lifestyle was momentarily interrupted when he met Nyah Wilson. His celebrity-cousin’s business manager who not only rocked his world, but almost drove him to his knees to beg her to stay. But instead of walking away from her, she rejected him and his vices. His cousin’s call for him gives him a second chance at Nyah. Now, he will stop at nothing, including gambling at cards, to throw down a dare that he’s sure to win.
Nyah Wilson is a Senegalese-American and her female warrior spirit is ready to rise to the occasion to fight alongside her man.
Nyah watched Ken at the Gohonzon finish up his morning meditation facing east to the rising sun. His soft chanting accompanied the muted peal of the bells from the nearby Buddhist temples. The waves of sound vibrated through the morning mist.
She stirred under the sheets loosely covering her naked body. The kuchinashi flower petals carpeting the floor still scented the air with the smell of gardenias. Some of the candles had burned to the wick while others had lost their flame when the nightly breezes rushed in before the thunderstorm.
Her gaze settled, above Ken’s head, on the mountain with its snow capped peak.
By sundown, there would be war.
Ken would have to defend his chief’s honor. He would have to defend his lineage. She didn’t want him to go but could not stand in the way of his obligation. The ancient blood of the samurai would infuse his spirit for battle. As a calm overtook him, she felt his retreat from her.
Slowly she rose and wrapped the sheet around her body, knotting it over her shoulder toga style. Without a word, she knelt beside him and took an incense stick and lit it. A winding wisp of smoke curled upward to mix with the sandalwood fragrance. She clasped the incense between her hands, bowed her head, and joined in with the rhythmic gongyo. Then she placed the incense in the burner to burn from left to right.
She was here with her samurai warrior, always. When he climbed that mountain in a few hours, he had to know that she would be chanting for his return, his victory, his honor.