Taming kane claiming mia, p.1
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       Taming Kane, Claiming Mia, p.1

           Nichole Lynn
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Taming Kane, Claiming Mia

  by Nichole Lynn

  Published by Shani Greene-Dowdell Presents

  © Nichole Lynn. All Rights Reserved 2016.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above stated publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


  First and foremost, I want to thank my Heavenly Father for blessing me with the gift of writing. Lord, I thank you for this talent and just for being better to me than I could ever begin to be to myself.

  Next, I just want to say Lord I thank you for my blessing, my Poohter, my baby boy, bundle of joy, Jamaal Michael Wiggins Caliph. Jamaal, know that all Mommy does, she does it for you!

  Now, I want to thank the love of my life, my loving husband Amir for being my support system and cheerleader, and just for believing in my talent. I love you babe!

  Next, I want to thank the best parents in the world. My mother, Valerie, you are my hero and the strongest woman I know. Thank you for challenging me to do better and to want more out of this life, and to my spiritual mentor, Anthony, dad there are no words to express my love for you. I would also like to thank my mother in law, Lynda, mom thank you for supporting me and for rooting me on when you learned I signed an amazing book deal!

  To my mentor, Shonell Bacon there are no words. What? I found your website online in 2005, shot you an email and we have been sister/writer friends ever since. Sis, I love you to the moon and back!

  To my squad: Jai, Mie, and Kim, thank you all for the numerous times you've read and re-read Taming Kane and Claiming Mia your input has been invaluable.

  Lastly to my wonderful publisher Shani Greene Dowdell, who would've ever thought that a simple email and me asking a question would lead to you publishing my work? Shani, I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to be a part of the New Print family. You will never know how much your support means.

  Lastly, but definitely not least, to my readers, I hope you enjoy Mia and Kane's love story as much as I loved writing it! Happy Reading! Nichole Lynn!!!


  Inconsiderate bitch.

  The two words sat on the tip of Mia Childs tongue, as she punched her Mary Jane Blanik stiletto against the accelerator of her car. Barely missing the curb, Mia’s canary-colored, baby doll dress inched further up her taught toffee thighs as she hastily maneuvered the silver ice metallic Camaro down Coventry Road in search of “sexy coffee.” Grateful to have found a spot in front of her sister’s trendy java joint, the Latte Lounge, Mia parked her car. Her cinnamon-colored eyes burned holes into the digital clock in the dashboard. She was officially late for the weekly staff meeting at CHIC magazine where she was a writer. Mia’s freshly manicured fingers tightly gripped the leather steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip.


  There. She said it, but not before cringing.

  True, the expletive effortlessly rolled off her tongue flawlessly, but Mia hated using profanity. She was usually the butt of her older sister, Marlo’s, jokes when she did curse. Marlo felt her baby sister was too refined and just didn’t sound right swearing. But today, who cared what anyone thought?

  Mia couldn’t wait to tell Marlo how exhilarating it felt to let go, and just call a bitch a bitch.

  9:13. Mia pursed her lips together as she read the time, once again. She was contemplating a complete do over of this morning’s events. Was it so wrong of her to want to crawl back in bed and hit the reset button?

  Wishful thinking, Mia thought as she cleared her throat.

  She attempted to woosah her anxiety away. Her almond shaped eyes fluttered close and she exhaled a lungful of air. Her shoulders slumped in semi relaxation, but this was not enough to ease the tension lingering in her chest and back.

  How am I going to explain this? she wondered chewing the sparkly Victoria’s Secret gloss from her lips. It was not fair. It was not her fault she was late. If it were up to her, she would have been at her meeting on time, so that she could leave early and head back home to celebrate her award.

  Last evening, Mia was the guest of honor for the twenty-second annual Ladies in Lit dinner at Windows on the River. Ladies in Lit was the most influential writing group in the US, having chapters all over the country. Ladies in Lit were comprised of women who dedicated themselves exclusively to the craft of writing and honed in their talents on particular interest and feature pieces. Ladies in Lit catapulted writing careers.

  Women writers, seasoned or new to the industry, would seize the opportunity to experience the gift of this honor. When Mia learned that she was this year’s recipient she almost lost it. Her eleven and a half years writing freelance for a couple of the country’s most popular magazines had been worth it. Mia was almost where she wanted to be.

  Writing freelance had its ups and downs, but it did not maintain the security or the notoriety of being recognized as a features writer/columnist. Mia had spent her freelance time writing about world issues. After doing it for so long, she realized it wasn’t what she wanted to spend the rest of her life focusing on. It had been her passion upon graduating Summa Cum Laude from Ohio University’s Scripps School of Journalism and during the birth of her career, but she just could not do it any longer. Writing about the economic turmoil, social injustices, White House woes, and the unconscious wars plaguing Afghanistan and Iraq drained Mia emotionally, mentally, and physically. Mia would spend many nights balling her eyes out with insomnia due to the severity of her articles. Following an article dealing with a military family who had lost two sons; one in Afghanistan and the other in Iraq within two weeks of each other was a sign that Mia needed a change of pace, so she began writing for women’s magazines, and promptly fell in love with the glamorous chick Faire, hence another reason she should be celebrating.

  May 4th. Three years ago today marked Mia’s three-year anniversary as a contributing writer for the sexy salacious magazine, CHIC. During her tenure, Mia had done it all. She began as a gofer, then worked her way up to writer assistant. She was responsible for supplying research material for junior and senior writers. Her hard work soon earned her the title of contributing writer and she was given the opportunity to fill in for a senior features writer who was out on maternity leave. Needless to say, the writer was jealous upon returning to discover her flock of faithful followers had practically become fans of MiaNicole on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. The short-term gig had been accomplished, but it still didn’t allow Mia to have what she wanted most, her own column. Yes. She was able to write features, but only when her editor, Tinley Malone, allowed her to, and that was not very often.

  Mia’s flawless reputation at CHIC had gone unscathed until today.

  Seriously. Chick. Why pick today of all days to be late? Mia was irritated at herself. Last week, she had worked up the nerve and told herself that today was the day she would sit with Tinley to discuss her future
at CHIC. Mia knew she deserved her own column. She had paid her dues, had written witty advice columns, and had taken a back seat on too many occasions to writers with far fewer credentials than she. Now, it was her turn. All of the other writers knew it too and even commented that she deserved to be a senior writer with her own office and assistant. I am going to get my column. It was the mantra Mia chanted daily when she awakened, and before she went to sleep.

  I am talking with Tinley today, late or not. Anyone working within the walls of CHIC knew that Tinley Malone was a stickler for promptness, and any time anyone was late she would throw a fit.

  Then, there was the momentous announcement Mia was probably missing out on. These past few weeks Tinley had hinted about some news she had to share, telling everyone to get ready for an issue unlike anything they had ever done.

  Great, Mia sighed, Tinley is probably making the announcement and here I’m sitting in the car like a big dummy. Mia inhaled the lavender vanilla fragrance of her car deodorizer, silently praying it would calm her frazzled nerves so she wouldn’t go off the moment she laid eyes upon Satan’s evil spawn, Lauren Hayes.

  Mia had been literally about ten minutes from work when she received a frantic phone call from Lauren “I-receive-all-the-senior-writer-perks-because-I-am-Tinley’s-bestfriend-Hayes” demanding that Mia grab Tinley a low fat latte with skim milk. She said Tinley was dealing with cramps and that a latte would help put her in a better mood. Had it not been for Tinley calling her out the blue, she would’ve been in her important meeting on time and ready.

  Mia’s cell phone chimed causing her to jump. Emitting a nervous giggle, she reached for her iPhone 6 Plus forgetting that she was outside her sister’s labor of love.

  Are you coming in or are you going to sit outside all day .

  Mia beamed at her sister’s text message. For as long as she could remember, Marlo talked about owning her own sexy coffee shop and how she would one day be a force to be reckoned with amongst her competitors. Since Latte Lounge opened its doors three years ago in the eclectic area of Coventry, the java joint had done just that putting its competitors such as Phoenix Coffee and Starbucks to shame because of Marlo’s specialty orgasmic concoctions such as “Cum for me Chai Tea, Hazelnut French Kiss, Naughty Girl Nutmeg,” and Mia’s favorite “White Chocolate Wet Dreams.”

  Mia slid out the car, locked the doors and entered the sexy space overcome by the delectable fragrances of java combined with the sensual sounds of Marsha Ambrosious. The tunes worked well with the décor that consisted of sheer drapes that cascaded from the ceiling to the floor enclosing each circular table. Floating votive candles added to the intimacy giving parties their privacy.

  “Oh, I know you are not walking all up and through here with that stank face. Please stop killing my vibe.”

  “Sorry.” Mia pouted as she tried her best not to trip over a sheer piece of red drapery. She replaced her pout with a fake smile. “Is this better?”

  Marlo wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. You’re just making it worse.” Arms outstretched, Marlo in all her five foot zero glory treaded over to her much taller baby sister who stood five feet eight inches tall and said, “Come here sissy’s big baby. Who did it? And who do I need to go beat up?”

  Mia chuckled, “You are a plum nut.”

  She bent down an embraced her sister’s tiny frame. It was still hard to believe that she was the younger Childs’ sister. Mia was long and lithe with legs for days like their father, Thomas, who stood over six feet and Marlo was petite and curvy like their mother, Marcia, who was five feet two. Mia grinned at her older sister. Marlo was beautiful with glowing pecan brown skin, doe shaped eyes with lashes that fanned out for days. She tilted her head a bit, still trying to get used to Marlo’s short fly cut. The Childs’ sisters were known for wearing their thick, natural hair in wash and go’s or twist outs, but all of that changed when Marlo decided to chop off all her hair and relax it like Jennifer Hudson’s.

  “What’s going on with you today? I thought I was going to have to come drag you out of the car.” Marlo stepped back and gazed up at her sister, a growing look of concern engulfed her face. “I thought you would be on cloud nine today especially since it’s your anniversary.” Marlo did a silly two-step in front of the counter.

  Mia cracked a small smile. “You would think that right? Well, everything was going well this morning, until I get halfway to work and get a frantic phone call from Lauren.”

  Marlo paused mid two-step. “Why is Lauren calling you like you two are friends?”

  “Exactly,” Mia said. “She claims Tinley has bad cramps, is on the warpath and insists I bring her a latte.”

  “Wait. Isn’t Liz Tinley’s personal assistant?”

  Mia nodded.

  “Um, so why didn’t you tell Lauren to kick rocks?”

  “Because you know I am trying to kill them all with kindness.”

  “You are such a sissy like daddy.”

  The sisters shared a look and cracked up.

  That’s when it hit Marlo. “I thought today was the big meeting with Tinley and her giving you all the details on the anniversary issue?”

  “It is.”

  “Why aren’t you at the meeting?”

  “Maybe because a certain someone did not want me there.”

  “Looks like Lauren wants to set you up.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Oh no,” Marlo shook her head and rounded the counter, “We are not having that today.” She began to whip up a latte sprinkling a bit of cinnamon here and vanilla there. “Here.” She handed her sister a biodegradable cup carrier that contained two piping hot cups. “Get out of here and call me later with the deets.” She pushed her sister out of the door.

  “Thank you sister.”

  “No problem boo.”

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