Jack Canon’s Women of the House by @GregSandora #AmReading #Thriller

“You’d be like the Pied Piper of sex appeal.” He answered, his eyes glued to Sandy’s milky white thighs.

“Thanks, Tip, I guess that’s a compliment –right?”

Tip was looking like he wanted to ask her a question.

“Tip, is there something on your mind,” Sandy asked, being nice.

“I wanted to ask you…I mean see if you would tell me, why I have so much trouble…”

“With women?” Finishing his question, stating the obvious.

“This should be good,” I said, handing Sandy my card, “Get something nice for you, too.”

“Tip, you watching? – Jack knows how to treat a woman. It’s a wonder you haven’t picked up anything—being around him all this time.”

“I just thought he had some sort of special charisma or something I don’t.” Tip answered.

“Well you’re right about the charisma, but really there’s something else – and I think it would help, but you’ve got to be honest.”

“What,” Tip asked anxiously—genuinely wanting pointers.

“The first time I met Jack, he didn’t mention he was a Senator. I walked into an old mattress store – not knowing what I was going to find—Jack looked into my eyes… like an equal. Sure, since then he’s put me on a pedestal, but let me ask you, Tip. What’s the first thing you see when you look at a woman? Be brutally honest – just this once, I won’t mind. ”

“I don’t know – it’s different every time, I usually focus on something that catches my eye—like boobs, hair, legs –Tip explained like he’d be getting extra credit for being thorough.

Sandy shook her head, “It’s worse than I thought. You know what I felt the first time Jack looked at me?”

“What?” Tip asked, curious.

“Like… he saw me – as a person – a whole person, not just an object.”

“Tip, when I look at a woman as parts it’s intimidating for me, too.” I said, trying to make him feel better.

Sandy crossed her leg and starting rolling her ankle, “Tip, what do you see when you look at me?”

“You want me to be honest?”

“Of course—I can’t help you if you’re not.”

“Well today I noticed your hips, but I always love your soft doe face.”

Sandy looked puzzled, “Soft doe face? What is that?”

“He means you have a very feminine pretty face – there’s no hardness in it.”

Tip added, “The women I see usually have rougher facial features.”

“Where are you meeting these girls, Tip?”

“Strip clubs mostly.”

“That’s nasty Tip! Ewe!”

“Beautiful woman are intimidating – at the clubs the girls are really friendly, easy going.”

“They’re friendly because it’s their job – they’re easy because you’re paying them—would you want to marry a girl from one of your clubs?”

“No, but I feel comfortable. I know it’s a job.”

“Gross, Tip, that’s so sad.”

“A lot of agents have trouble meeting women.”

“You need some serious help!” Sandy sounded like a concerned sister.

I coaxed, “He needs a good woman, – do you think you could introduce him to one of your girlfriends?”

“I’d really appreciate any advice you could give me, Sandy.” Tip was sincere.

“Tip’s not ready for one of my friends – seriously the girls I know are very needy emotionally – he’d be lost.”

Trying to help persuade her, “So, you’re basically resigning him to a life of strip clubs and hookers?”
Sandy looked at me wide-eyed, raising her eyebrows, “Crude, Jack, you’re enjoying this aren’t you.” She turned to Tip, “You’re a good man, – you deserve to be happy. Tell me Tip, what do you think women want?”

“I don’t really know – I guess – to be made happy?”

“So how would you do it then – make a girl happy that is?”

“Agree with her, make her feel important, give her things I guess.”

“That’s a start, but a woman needs so much more. She wants someone who can share in her emotions without being swallowed up by them. A man who will take his time with her and make time for her—She doesn’t want to be rushed, but still likes spontaneity and excitement. She wants to feel like your equal and be respected for what she brings to the relationship. And, I’m just scratching the surface here.”

“Men…do all this?”

“Some do—Jack does this stuff—he’s kind… caring—he listens. Jack enjoys what women are all about—He looks with great passion. Tip,—she wants to know that you’re desirable to other women and she didn’t just get stuck with you.”

“What about…?” Tip stopped himself, embarrassed.

“The bedroom…She’ll forgive you. Don’t worry she’ll follow your lead. Just don’t make her feel bad by talking about it later. That’s the one place you can sort of be yourself…I can’t believe I’m saying this—the poor thing …take it slow.”

“Are there classes?”

“A good woman will teach you.”

“Did Jack know all this?”

“Are you kidding? All he had was a smile when I met him – and a wandering eye. It’s taken me years of subtle clues and hints to train him.”

“Some not so subtle,” I said, poking fun.

“She wants a friend – but not a guy that makes her feel responsible to make the first move or like she’s a locker room pal.”

Tip looked puzzled, “I’m lost.”

“Jack, just for fun – tell Tip what you’re really thinking… right now.”

“You’re serious –now? No holds barred – what I’m really thinking?”

“Yes, something you’d normally never share with me.”

Tip chuckled, “This oughta be good.”

“Before you do… let me guess.” Sandy squinted and looked up to the left then to the right –

“Something about my panties?”

“Close—what was left of those cutoffs you were wearing that day by the lake.”

“I was really close then. Tip, what did you think Jack was thinking?”

“I would have said World peace – you know to make you happy.”

“Coward- okay tell the truth what are you thinking right now?”

“The truth… really? – what it would be like – you know…if you were my girlfriend.” Sandy rolled her eyes, pursing her lips.

“Not going to happen- but I’ll help. We just have to start really slow.”

“Jack gets to say what’s on his mind and you’re okay with it?”

“There’s a lot of trust built up that you and I don’t share. Stop whining – that’s a deal killer for sure.”

“You asked though. I thought you wanted honesty?”

“Sometimes…oh forget it…”

Tip cut her off, “Am I a lost cause then?”

“No, I didn’t say…don’t feel like that – we’ve got something to work with. You’re good looking – dangerous – you might be a girl’s worst mistake, at least for the first few, but you’ll learn as you go.”

“So will you set me up with one of your friends? One who looks most like you—preferably?”

“Sweet, Tip…, but wrong. Not when you don’t understand the first thing about a woman. They’d thank me at first, but you wouldn’t last two weeks with one of my friends – try to imagine flying too close to a super nova. They’d burn you up and drag you into an emotional black hole. You’d never escape!”

“I can keep a woman safe, at least.”

“Of course you can. A woman wants to feel safe, understood, but she also wants a man that isn’t afraid of her -someone who can be honest. Tell her the truth once in a while. Then grab her and make love without asking. A woman wants to live the full range—she wants you to be able to feel her emotions with her – from misery to elation. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

“That-a-boy, let’s go out sometime and find you someone suitable. A starter girlfriend.”

“That will be great, are you free tonight?”

“Tonight? I guess so – you don’t need for anything, do you, Jack?”

“No I’m good – take him out – it’s on me.” I was happy to make the offer. Sandy would have a project and I wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving her behind.

“We’ll find you a girl with a doe face. You’ll have to show me – but once I know – I’m sure we can find you one. If that’s what you want.”

“Really? This will be great. Sandy, I’ll owe you!”

“You’ll owe me big time!”


Two months have passed since the long awaited inauguration of the New President of the United States – Jack Canon. Now he must live up to his promises. The World is wounded, people are hurting, the new President must keep the country afloat. Jack leads a very full life – The first couple’s relationship is hot with passion, but he can never admit that to Sandy, his best friend who is also head over heels in love with him. The Women of the House provide a welcome distraction while helping with the arduous task of running the country.

As President Jack must make tough decisions: Global Terrorism, Human Trafficking, Korea on the brink of war, all while thwarting International Greed. Women of the House is a story of noble sacrifice at extremely high cost. Who’s going to be the first to be strong enough and willing to pay? It’s not all work in Women of the House – Think the Wedding of the Decade meets the Crime of the Century.

Jack Canon’s Women of the House, is a story filled with Love, Lust, and Loyalty where passions can run wild! In Sandora’s monumental sequel, patriotism and valor mingle with an undying love that refuses to quit. Ride along as Jack Canon fights back against the most evil people on the planet. Readers are sure to embrace this unforgettable tale which will appeal to fans of political adventure, suspense and romance alike. Jack Canon’s Women of the House is a story of kindness, passion and courage that can’t be separated.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Romantic Thriller

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author

 Connect with Greg Sandora on Facebook & Twitter


A 3rd Time to Die by George A Bernstein @GeorgeBernstein


Ashley tossed the currycomb into the oak supply box and began braiding Injun’s dark mane, weaving in black ribbons and tying off each strand with a tight little double-knotted bow. The chestnut thoroughbred rubbed her cheek with his velvety snout, nipping at one of the gold buttons on her riding jacket.

“Hey, quit that! I’ve got to look good when we go into that ring.” She laughed, hugging the big horse around the neck. He nickered softly, as she went back to braiding his long mane.

“We’ll look great out there, won’t we, buddy? A pair of redheads having fun.”

She grimaced, shaking her head. Was she really ready for this? She loved riding, and especially jumping this big horse she had bought on a whim, little more than a year ago. Once healthy, he turned out to be the enthusiastic jumper that guy had been promised, and then some! Her vow to Keith to take it slowly evaporated when she realized he was so eager to attack fences.

Now, after ten months of hard training, they were entered in her first tournament, the first major amateur shows of the Northern Illinois season. Nothing like starting big.

Her elation at getting back to the love of her teen years with a wonderful animal under her was sadly dampened by Keith, that very morning.

“No way! You’re not going,” he had said.

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m going. This is what we prepared for.”

“No! You could get hurt… or worse. I forbid it! You’ve gotta take some respons…”

“You what!” She spun on him, smoky eyes sparking fire. They glared at each other for a moment. Then she gathered her riding jacket, black helmet and crop and exploded from the room, the front door reverberating as it crashed closed behind her.

She sighed, shaking her head at the memory.

What nerve. Who does he think he is, forbidding me to ride?

Being almost in her third month won’t interfere with her ability to jump the course, nor will it endanger the fetus. She held a pregnancy with utter tenacity, playing tennis into her eighth month with her first two children with no ill effects.

She doubted he really worried about losing a baby he didn’t even want. How had this even happened, as rarely as they managed sex anymore? That’s all it was for Keith.


They stopped making love years ago.

Partly my fault, I suppose. Not easy being romantic when I’m scouring the shadows for monsters, just when he’s getting it on.

This strange, uncontrollable panic… The Terror she called it… blossomed early in their marriage. All was wonderful at first, as they kissed and touched, trembling with delicious passion. She’d close her eyes, descending into her special imaginary place, that tranquil little meadow, surrounded by massive oaks and firs. She’d even imagine the tinkling of a brook, tumbling over small rocks.

Mon amour! Mon amour!

That lustful French voice, whispering to her, spilling goose bumps down her spine. Where did it come from? Exciting, but kind of spooky, too.

Then something would change. Ardor and joy were quickly squelched by the specter of a fierce horned apparition, wickedly hooked beak and raking claws, charging from to woods, screaming death. She knew it was imagination, but The Terror clutched her heart, drying up her juices, stiffening her limbs with panic.

She’d fight through it, trying to relax, steadying her breathing, wanting to please her husband. She never discussed it with anyone, feeling foolish, but The Terror had no real bearing on what was going on between them now.

Keith’s real concern seemed less about her being hurt, and more over not wanting to be saddled with caring for their children if she were laid up from a bad fall… a fear without basis. Maria loved her kids and was always there whenever Ashley needed her. Ricky and Beth were crazy about “Aunt Maria,” and they were getting quite good at speaking Spanish with her.

Well, she’d deal with Keith later. It was time to get Injun tacked up and out to the ring. They were due to ride in less than thirty minutes.


Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – PG13

More details about the author

Connect with George Bernstein on Facebook & Twitter

Kain (Elyon’s World #1) by Brie McGill







Lukian breezed to the assembly line’s input kiosk in the cafeteria. He watched automated machines ration slabs of grease-doused mystery meat, microwave-ready pancakes drowned with synthetic syrup-sweetener.

And the little baked balls. Lukian had no idea what they were supposed to be, but he refused to touch them. He referred to them as ‘sludgemuffins.’

He claimed his metal tray with apathy and shuffled toward his usual table.

He never arrived this early: the dining hall was sparsely populated. Lukian preferred to spend his extra morning minutes hidden behind the curtain in his dorm, musing on the world below–but surely, Aiden would have reported him.

The tragedy was Lukian’s sanity depended desperately upon every spare moment of silence to maintain any equilibrium. Now he was robbed of his peace, trapped in this hell.

Considering Krodha introduced them, it was probable that Krodha sent Aiden to spy on him, to watch him until he slipped, to cash in on the perfect opportunity to ship him to therapy.

Perhaps Lukian would be kept in therapy indefinitely: this was his greatest fear. Fragments of previous sessions flashed before his eyes–the hard knuckles in his face, the crack of the baton against his ribs, the electric shocks until he fainted–he shuddered.

“Top of the morning to you, Lukian!” Benny claimed a jolly throne by the window.

Benny’s exuberance wove the illusion of more life, more color in this grey-walled pen, this prison, than existed in reality. To smile indiscriminately every morning? Lukian was way too debased for that.

He sat beside Benny whenever possible. The radiant warmth of his cheerful, pudgy face melted the edges of Lukian’s frosty exterior.

Lukian stared with despair at his breakfast tray. He couldn’t wait to slop the indigestible anathema onto Benny’s plate. Benny loved breakfast.

What wasn’t there to love about Benny?

Lukian finally acknowledged him with a nod, smiling into a cup of burnt, bitter coffee. It ravaged his throat, like national vodka, sweet vodka he would enjoy tonight.

He would enjoy forgetting all the events of the day, and possibly the entire course of his life.

And if he drank enough to vomit? That was a pleasure, compared to his job.

Tough, blonde Maximus joined them. “Good morning, men!” He slammed the tray against the table, a territorial assertion.

Guillermo, a wiry, high-strung, fragile man, claimed a seat one-removed from everyone else at the table.

“This food!” Benny spoke with a mouthful, waving a disposable utensil speared with slices of pancake. “It’s delightful!”

Lukian nodded, never bothering to make eye contact with any of the joiners at his table. He sporked chunks of seared deli meat onto Benny’s tray.

“Can you believe the 06:00 news?!” Maximus slapped his palms against the table, the impact splashing a tsunami of coffee from Lukian’s cup onto the table.

Lukian’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Logically, we’ve all heard the news.” Guillermo slurped something from a carton.

“I am beside myself.” Maximus planted a hand over his forehead and looked to the sky, slamming a heavy palm against the table, spilling everyone’s drinks.

Guillermo appeared equally displeased.

Benny didn’t notice.

“It chokes me that no men were sent to the Northern Quarter.” Maximus brought his hands to his face. “We could have that entire area under strategic lockdown in forty-eight hours–”

“More troops in the Northern Quarter, huh.” Lukian’s heart knocked in his chest: did he miss the morning news? Did he not remember? Was he daydreaming?

His slips increased in frequency. It was a matter of time until his charade crumbled, along with his mind, and he was sent for more therapy–

A fifth chair squealed as Aiden Blaine inserted himself at the head of the table. “Actually, it was through the graces of Lukian that I was further acquainted with the lovely premises this morning.” He offered a charming grin.

The sight of his fiery hair pulled Lukian from his cup of coffee.

“I believe it is your duty, as fellow patriots, to bring him up to speed.” Aiden sat upright, clasping his spork and flaccid knife, and cut through the inedible refuse on his tray with sublime decorum.

“Oh, everyone.” Lukian narrowed his eyes with a venomous scowl. “This is my new roommate, Aiden Blaine.” If he had a sludgemuffin, he would have eaten it, because enduring a sludgemuffin was preferable to forced, public amiability with Krodha’s pet snitch.

Aiden flashed the table a glittering, disarming grin.

Benny extended his arm for a handshake; Maximus gave a hearty nod and palm-slapped the table; Guillermo studied him with distrust.

Lukian swallowed, feeling the itch of breaking into a nervous sweat: already, Aiden intuited the rhythm of his closely-guarded lethe. Lukian gave no such tour this morning–

Then, what was he doing during the news?

“One of the most difficult crimes to commit–” Maximus pounded the table with a fist. “–is the removal of a personal SET chip.”

“It’s suicide!” Benny spat a hunk of something when he spoke. “You’d never be able to buy any food.” He wiped his mouth. “Or ride the bus–”

“There’s more to the story.” Guillermo pushed a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Working in my department makes me privy to certain pieces of information before they are official news. It turns out three citizens have disconnected from the system this week, presumably in isolated instances.” He slurped from his carton. “And what’s more intriguing, two of them are felons.”

Lukian kept his nose buried in his sad and empty coffee cup. His eyes wandered to Guillermo. “And this is intriguing, why…?”

“Different versions of the SET chips have different security mechanisms and levels of encryption, suited to their purposes. Civilian chips are basic, but the chipset implanted in felons are encrypted similarly to our own. I’m talking top-of-the-line security, not something any schmuck can crack–”

Benny stared blankly.

Lukian wished he could disappear: he felt Aiden’s eyes on his neck.

Maximus thumped a fist against the table. “So?!”

So.” Guillermo crumpled the carton. “Two men, this week, in separate instances, were able to have chips with state-of-the-art military encryption removed.”

His pause for emphasis passed in underappreciation.

“You’re not understanding.” He adjusted his glasses. “As a failsafe, those chips are designed so they cannot be removed by one man alone, without initiating self-destruct. Therefore, there are numerous individuals with sufficient technological prowess to crack our military encryption slithering around out there, beneath the radar, on the loose! Organized, and helping felons!”

Benny’s eyes were wide with terror. “I didn’t know my chip could self-destruct.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Guillermo rolled his eyes. “And the third man was a civilian.”

“We need to increase the martial presence in the area!”

Lukian winced before Maximus’s hand hit the table.

“I heard the felons flee to the industrial sectors.” Maximus wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Because it’s the only place they can’t be tracked.”

“The only way to reduce the electromagnetic interference that prevents the tracking is to cut power to an entire prefecture.” Guillermo shook his head. “Sadly, the option is untenable.”

Lukian noticed Aiden scrutinizing him. Lukian ran out of coffee long ago–it spilled–but that didn’t stop him from pretending to drink, hiding from the world in the cozy sea of his black mug.

Now, he was angry: Aiden subtly invaded every escape from reality that Lukian knew. He invaded his dorm, and now his mind.

Worse, he passed no judgment: was he a snitch in waiting, or was he perversely unbound to the moral conduct of the Empire?

Aiden was aware of Lukian’s daydreaming, his disconnect, but offered no reprimand. Daydreaming was a grave infraction all were ordered to report, a severe symptom of illness that required immediate therapeutic intervention.

Aiden’s silent complicity without acknowledgement of the thumping vein, the vital force behind Lukian’s struggle became the ultimate insult to his suffering and exhaustion, his humiliation and deprivation, his begging for a pittance to scrape through this harsh reality he never asked to live.

And he felt anger: he wanted to spring across the table and smash his fist through Aiden’s pretty skull. He wanted to defend his psychological territory, his safe place to retreat, and declare that no man could destroy the petty existence he battled to maintain in this desolate, frozen hell.

Then it happened: Lukian became incredibly aware of himself, his feelings. He shifted, consciously but imperceptibly, into the singularity of a moment. Face flushed, heart pounding, Lukian sat in awe of the surge of emotion powerful enough to remove him from his bland penitentiary.

Willful introspection, of course, dissolved the miracle immediately: Lukian slammed his empty mug against the table, puzzled, angry, and incomplete.

Benny awkwardly slid his cup across the table to Lukian, sloshing sugar-cream-with-a-splash-of-coffee over the sides. “You can have mine, if you’re tired.”

The entire table watched him: he had three seconds to explain himself. “That’s crazy news.” Lukian laughed, eyes shifting to the window.

It was snowing. It was always fucking snowing. Why did he bother to look?

“And, no, Benny, I’m okay, thanks.”

He wondered for how long Aiden would defend his bursts of insanity, if it was Aiden that pushed him over the edge.


Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre –  Sci-Fi/Steamy Romance

Rating – R (18+)

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Brie McGill on Facebook  & Twitter

Website http://www.sexdrugsandcyberpunk.com/