Saturday, February 15, 2014


Kim Carmichael began writing eight years ago when her love of happy endings inspired her to create her own. 

A Southern California native, Kim's contemporary romance combines Hollywood magic with pop culture to create quirky characters set against some of most unique and colorful settings in the world.

With a weakness for designer purses, bad boys and techno geeks, Kim married her own computer whiz after he proved he could keep her all her gadgets running and finally admitted handbags were an investment.

Kim is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as some small specialty chapters.  A multi-published author, Kim's books can be found on Amazon as well as Barnes & Nobel.  From alcohol to makeup to infrared cameras and even scientific lasers studying the atmosphere, Kim has worked in some aspect of sales and marketing for over twenty years.

When not writing, she can usually be found slathered in sunscreen trolling Los Angeles and helping top doctors build their practices.

*Hands On Me – Keith Publications – 9/12 – Part of the Tramp Stamp Line
*Closure – Hot Ink Press – 11/12 - Explores a second chance at a first love.
*Eternity – Keith Publications – 1/13 - My fallen cupid story.
*The Promise – Hot Ink Press – 2/13 - My sexy demon story.
*Interchangeable – Decadent Publications – 7/13 - Part of Decadent's 1Night Stand Line.  Explores a M/F/M love story.
*Permanent – Book One of the Indelibly Marked Series – 10/13. Permanent was chosen as a finalist in the Assent Publishing Great Romance Contest.
*Trifecta – Hot Ink Press – 12/13 – M/F/M – A traditional romance that just happens to have three people.


A Traditional Romance That Just Happens to Have Three People

Two men. One woman. It could ruin a friendship, or bring a satisfying twist to their lives. Artist, Jason Morgan, is used to making magic on the canvas. Now he hopes to do it in the bedroom.

After a failed gallery showing, Jason decides the best way to cure his creative block is to act on his own personal fantasy, and enter into a sexual relationship with his two best friends.

From the time they were in elementary school, Russell Sinclair has been a willing participant in Jason's adventures, but this one goes to a new level. He's intrigued by the idea of sharing one woman, but is challenged by how to fit this three-sided relationship into his traditional life.

Lauren Redmond is no stranger to fantasy. As the aesthetic sales rep to the top Beverly Hills dermatologists, she is responsible for the majority of puffed lips and filled wrinkles in the greater Los Angeles area. She detours from her steady, secure path when she is offered the opportunity to live the dream with the two men who have occupied her heart since college. The fantasy fast becomes a powerful reality, and Lauren must decide if she is willing to give up everything she has worked for to have a bit of temporary decadence.

Trifecta explores the boundaries of love, relationships and convention.


You’re plan isn’t working. All we’ve done is piss her off.” Russell stepped in front of him, jaw set, fist struggling not to clench.

“We've just started and she’s jet lagged.”

“From a sixty minute flight from San Francisco?” Russell grabbed his sleeve. “You said we all had the latent desire to be together, I’m beginning to think you don’t know what latent means.”

“It means dormant, existing as potential, and that’s exactly what we do have.” Though he wanted to flaunt his psychology minor at his best friend, a flash of orange stung the corner of his eye. Like venom, the color seeped into his retinas, taking hold of him and rendering him motionless.

“What do we do now?” Russell waved his hand in front of his face.

His eyes remained affixed on the living Jack ‘o Lantern. If the woman had a green stalk coming out of her head the picture would be complete.

“Jason?” Russell looked behind him and turned back, his fist closing at last. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No, we can’t after we dragged Laurie here.” Caught in a stare, his voice lacked any backbone. He watched the bitch pick up a glass of champagne and nod. She nodded, damn it.

“Speaking of Lauren.” Russell stepped to one side, blocking his view of the woman who destroyed his life.

With the spell broken, Jason blinked and got his mind back to the present. “If you stick to the plan the three of us will be a couple by morning.” He conjured a smile at the image. "Actually in our case it would be a trouple."
He backed away, glancing around the bedroom, taking in the unmade bed, the pile of towels in the corner, and a knit cap on Mr. Robot. The moment his back hit the doorjamb he spun around and ran toward the kitchen. "Lauren!"

"Laurie!" Jason came charging in from the other entrance.

"Where is she?" Russell raised his arms. The last time he saw her she said she was going into the kitchen with her laptop under her arm. They couldn't have misplaced her as well.

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I need to talk to her."

"I get her first." Her laptop was on the table, but she wasn't there.

"That was last night." Jason crossed his arms.

"Lauren!" Russell yelled again. They had to resolve some things right now, or more importantly, he needed to know something, anything. Everything was off kilter.

"Hold on!" Her voice came out strained from the laundry room.

They both looked at each other and ran forward, bumping into one another in their quest to see who could reach her faster. They collided at the doorway, and Jason slipped inside the small room.

"What's wrong?"

At Jason's question Russell squeezed in. Lauren was on her knees, and the contents of her purse were strewn across the floor. "What's wrong?"

She huffed and looked up at them, spreading her arms out over the mess. "I can't find my nude pump, my black pants, my flash drive and my pills."

"I don't think your shoe is in there." Jason got down with her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you here?"

"I'm missing my favorite pen, my red t-shirt and my grey button down. I'm not sure where my underwear is, and I can't find my knit cap." Jason picked up her makeup bag and unzipped it. "Did the laundry guy skip us or something?"

"Did he? Maybe he stole our clothes." Lauren's eyes widened. "I swear I have nothing to wear."

Russell noticed a trend and joined them. "I think your pump is in my closet, I now own everyone's underwear, and the knit cap is on Mr. Robot." He took Lauren's bag from
Jason and dug through it.

"There's your shirt." Lauren lifted her chin toward him. "I guess Russell needed it."
Jason turned to him. "Cool."

"Here's your pen." Russell pulled a lip liner and Jason's pen out of Lauren's bag.
"And here's the flash drive." He handed each of them their respective possessions.

Lauren took her flash drive and kissed it. "I am also missing my black slip."

Jason took his pen and held it up like a torch. "I am the current owner of the black slip. I put it on the bed, I thought we could use it again in a bit." Then he held the pen out like a sword. "What did you need Laurie for?"

"Since I have most everyone else's things, does anyone know where my things are?"
He pushed Jason's hand away.

Lauren raised her hand. "I have a pair of your striped boxers, one of your white shirts and four ties."

"Ties." Jason nodded. "That was awesome." He leaned forward and began herding Lauren's items into a pile. "Let's go play tie again. I have a belt I can contribute, at least I know where that is." He held up his shirt to show them.

Russell turned up to the ceiling. While those ties weren't four of his best, the game was indeed awesome. He supposed he could wear the same suit he did today, and if
Jason found his grey button down he could borrow it. Now come to think of it, the mess, the lack of knowledge, the total loss of control came in a distant second, third and fourth to playing tie. "We'll find the rest tomorrow."

Jason began scooping Lauren's paraphernalia into her bag. "Sweet. If we need to take a bath after I hid a towel away, we'll have to share."


"Come on, there's not one self respecting woman who isn't dying to walk in here with a bona fide MD by her side." He held his arm out.

Damn the man for being right. Her heartbeat sped up in warning. How many nights had she laid in bed and dreamed about Gregory M. Dalton, M.D. taking her in this store?

The answer was a lot, but that was before. Before when she was alone and not the filling in the most delicious sandwich cookie on the planet. Unfortunately, only crumbs were left in the box. Hesitation didn't happen at this moment, but her feet didn't move.


She forced herself forward, hooked her arm in his, and smiled. Though she set her resolve not to think about Russell and Jason, she couldn't stop. The more she tried, the worse it became. She couldn't recall how many syringes she ordered for this man. Hell, she didn't remember what she had for dinner a half hour ago.
The door to the inner sanctum opened up to her with dinner and the introduction to some of his colleagues. Dr. Dalton even insisted they take a walk after their meal.

All she wanted to do was return to the hotel room.

Neither Russell nor Jason called her. Before she went down to the lobby to meet the doctor, she threw her phone on the far side of the bed. Now she regretted her actions, like she regretted a lot of things. What if they were trying to reach her? What if they weren't?

"Come on." He pulled the glass door open and guided her inside.

People spoke in hushed whispers in this store, as if it were a museum or a shrine.
Several sales people stood at the ready, and the scent of leather and money swirled around her. She held him tighter for fear she would pass out.

Unable to focus, her attention darted between the jewelry, the belts, the scarves, even the fragrances. For the first time she entered with someone who belonged.

"I've been looking at these for quite awhile." Dr. Dalton's voice broke through her awe mixed with self-loathing. Maybe Russell didn't want to take her out in public, not because they were a trio, but because her life centered on this store.

She blinked and glanced down at a case of men's watches.

"What do you think of this one?" He pointed to one with a huge silver face and metal strap.

A salesman stealthed in and without a word took the timepiece out.

Dr. Dalton held the watch up. "Tell me, Lauren."

Jason would think the watch was for a pussy. He didn't even wear a watch. When he wanted to know the time, he looked at his phone or asked one of them. However, Russell did wear a watch, a big one with a leather strap. After she loosened his tie and he went to the bedroom, it was the third thing he dealt with after coming home. He took his wallet out of his pocket, emptied his front pocket of change, and took off the watch. "It's amazing."

"I collect them." He handed the watch back. "This is the brand, has been for years."

She nodded, her ears listening but her mind still running down Russell's habits. After the watch, he took off his shoes and then disappeared into the closet to change into jeans and a t-shirt or sweats. Russell changed clothes a lot. She smiled to herself. He used to wear sweats to bed, but now he wore only boxer briefs and those usually vanished.

On the other hand, Jason was not a clothes changer. He slept with nothing, woke up and changed into whatever costume he deemed appropriate for the day, and he stayed in that until it was time to be in nothing again. The only time he switched outfits was if he were in
the studio painting or sculpting.
"Lauren?" Dr. Dalton leaned into her field of vision.

Her heart jumped and she braced herself on the counter. "The watch is amazing."

"You said that." He reached forward and put his finger on her lower lip. "I think I know why you're pouting."

"Pouting?" Her lip brushed against his fingertip, but the friction didn't create any heat.

"I know what you want to see." He waved to the salesman. "Let us see one of the
Valerie bags."

Warmth engulfed her body, but she still froze.

"Sir, we don't have any here." The man lifted his chin.

She exhaled, not sure if the calm that overtook her was disappointment or relief.

Dr. Dalton shook his head, reached into his pocket and handed the man a hundred dollar bill. "I'm sure this will cover the cost of a little window shopping."

She opened her mouth, raised her hand, anything to stop this.

The man looked between the bill, her and Dr. Dalton. "She will have to come to the back." He snatched the money.

"Let's just take a look." Dr. Dalton put his hand on her shoulder and guided her away.
In dreams, or nightmares, things always moved at a surreal pace, either superfast or horribly slow. The walk to the back of Jacques store wasn't the red carpet she dreamed up. It was the nightmare of a slow trek to her execution.

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