Excerpt from the Belle Curve

Excerpt from the Belle Curve

All Rights Reserved – Copyright Addison Kline 2016


January 7, 2016

St. Petersburg, Russia

The towers of Red Square climbed to the heavens as a thick fog rolled in off the Moskva River. The air was frigid, and Isobelle Hoffman’s breath clouded before her. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the acceptance letter from Saint Petersburg University. She was to meet with Laws Gunther, an esteemed professor from Berlin who had taken the Music department chair position just six months prior. Staring around at her from wide eyes, everything was so foreign to Belle. No one spoke her native English tongue. She couldn’t understand the street signs. She didn’t even know how she was going to get to her meeting with Professor Gunther.

Her hands shook with chill, her thermal gloves not enough to stave off the brutal cold. Dropping her letter to the ground, the wind swept it away in a rush. Tossing to and fro in the tempestuous gale of the wind, Belle’s letter evaded her with each swipe of her hand. Chasing after it, Belle’s black hair swept in the wind. Finally, after several moments of a precarious chase across Red Square, Belle had trapped the letter under her foot. Bending down, she reached for it, and as she did, a man approached. Belle stared down at his pair of polished black shoes and handsome grey trouser pants. Peering up at him with a nervous glint in her eyes, Isobelle Hoffman locked eyes upon the face of Laws Gunther.

“Miss Hoffman, I presume?”

Stammering Isobelle replied “Uh…yes…” Shooting upright, Isobelle, reached out and shook Professor Gunther’s hand. “How did you know it was me?”

Peering at her from mysterious grey irises, a slick smile tugged at Laws’s mouth.

“For one,” he said in a deep voice rank with irony, “You’re the only American I see fumbling about Red Square. Two, I recognized you from your photograph. Three, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry,” Isobelle fumbled. “I got lost.”

His eyes seemed to be smiling at Isobelle. With a sweep of his arm, he led Isobelle away from Red Square. “As most foreigners do their first time in St. Petersburg. Come. We have work to do.”



An excerpt from the Phoenix II

All Rights Reserved – Copyright Addison Kline 2015, 2016


Luca Delgaiso hugged a Cuban cigar between his lips as he sat in quiet in his dark office peering at the silhouettes of some of his new recruits. Snapping his fingers, Luca summoned the girl responsible for keeping his cigar lit. Erin Banks rushed across the room, scantily clad and thin as a rail. Her heels clicked against the floor as she rushed to Luca’s side. She pulled a book of matches from her skirt pocket. Flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder she smiled coyly at Luca before striking a match. Luca stared at Erin with a bored expression in his arrogant gaze. He waited impatiently, his eyes tracing Erin’s face in judgment. As he watched her, Luca appeared to be sizing her up. Snarling his upper lip in distaste, Erin didn’t pass whatever test it was that Luca had imposed upon her. Sucking on the end of the cigar, the embers lit up in the dark room. As he exhaled the fragrant smoke of his Havana, Luca waved Erin off with a swipe of his hand.

Two couches lined the far wall of Luca Delgaiso’s office with a teenager sitting in upon each cushion. He couldn’t see their faces in the dark. Luca didn’t need to. They were all the same to him; all pawns to be used to protect the king. Leaning back in his leather wingback chair, Luca had a look of overconfidence permeating from his eyes. Peering over the silhouettes of the newest recruits, he had already sized up each of them. They were ordinary at best. No diamonds in the rough. No special abilities to speak of. But the Kingpin is not a stupid man. I know that there is a use for everyone. I always find use of every person I meet. The girls, while no great beauties, were attractive enough to lure in more business, and with their love affair of their little pills, I had them right in my pocket. The boys, strong and confident, would prove useful in pushing product. Pick-ups, drop-offs, and I might even let them have a taste. They are just stupid enough to think that the sweet taste of ecstasy and power will come for free. Nothing in this life comes for free.

Blowing smoke between his lips, Luca continued to stare with an icy gaze. Breaking his eyes from them, he spun around in his chair and peered up at the wall behind his desk. Candid photographs littered the wall with snapshots of just about every neighborhood kid taped to the cracking white wall. Standing from his seat, Luca rose to his full height, holding his cigar in one hand, he buried his other hand in his suit jacket, rubbing his thumb against the rough edge of an old coin that rested in his pocket.

“Street cred,” Luca said strongly. “It’s born out of fear.”

He paced back and forth as he cast a serious look towards his recruits. “What people know can make or break you. But what’s more important is what people don’t know about you.”

Silence fell over the room as Luca allowed his words to sink in.

“Shroud yourself in mystery. Keep people guessing. Keep ‘em wondering. Their fear will elevate you. That fear will escalate. Rumors are born. Word spreads like wildfire through the streets. They’ll say, ‘Oh, yeah. I heard ‘bout him. He’s not the one to fuck wit.”

Luca took a draw of his cigar as he continued to pace across the floor. Zoning his eyes upon a candid snapshot of peck, Luca could feel his aggression rising in his chest. His eyes snapped to another photograph. Alanna Anderson was riding on the back of Peck’s bike with her hair whipping in the wind. She wore an unreadable expression on her face, and her lips provided no smile or comfort.

She is something of a pet to him, Luca thought. Or is it the other way around?

Luca’s eyes flashed to another photograph. Alanna Anderson was walking down Front Street surrounded by a rough and tumble group of teenage boys. Alanna wore an intense scowl, her finest poker face which prevented people from starting any trouble with her. Dressed in jeans and a black hoodie with a purple raven on the back, Alanna commanded Luca’s attention. Surrounding her, Peck, Cris Serrano, Nick Anderson and Charlie Foley all looked at her as if she was giving them guidance of some sort.

“Street cred,” Luca repeated darkly. “It’s something you all lack. That’s why you’re starting at the bottom. You might say, ‘Yo Kingpin, we’re just kids’… And to that I say look around. Some of your peers have more cred than is good for them.”

Luca began pacing again. In a voice as serrated as a knife’s blade, Luca addressed the recruits. “You wanna roll with me… You want the status, the crew, the benefits… You go hard. You do what I say. And unless its me askin’ the questions… you keep your fucking mouth shut!”

Luca turned on the heels of his Italian leather Ferragamos and eased himself back down into his chair, casting a cool look towards the opposite wall. In a voice as smooth as honey, Luca cooed, “Tell me about Alanna Anderson.” The words fell off his tongue like a song.

There was silence as the teens peered at each other nervously. Then, as Luca drilled them a calculating gaze, a boy cleared his throat.

“In the streets, she’s known as Raven,” Jake admitted.

“Raven,” Luca whispered, allowing the name to roll gently from his lips. The dark hair. The mysterious gaze. Her tight lipped smile. Luca’s thoughts streamed in his mind as he recalled their encounter at the skate park. Smart. Calculating. Bold and Beautiful. Defiant. The nickname fits her. “It seems Raven she has her own crew.”

“Those boys follow her everywhere,” Erin called out.

“Who are they?” Luca asked. “The boys?”

“Like you don’t know,” Teagan said plainly.

Luca shot Jake an amused expression. “Humor me.”

Teagan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Silence took over the room as she prepared to out her former friends. Clearing her throat, she spoke, her usual snark and attitude removed from her voice. “Her cousin is Nick Anderson,” Teagan began. “He’s nothing to really worry about. Nice, quiet kid. A bit annoying. Charlie Foley is loyal to the death. He’d go into war for Alanna… He even chose her side over his own brother. But the one’s you really gotta watch are Serrano and Peck. They love her, and they don’t give a fuck. They’ll go after anybody that messes with her.”

“Serrano and Peck, huh?” Luca asked darkly as he peered at Teagan with unreadable eyes. “What’s Serrano’s first name? There’s a few of ‘em.”

Luca turned in his seat as he peered up at his wall. He glanced at candid snapshots of all the Serrano kids, his eyes flickering over the faces of Tony, Josefina, Salvatore and Cris.

“Some weird foreign name,” Josh added.

“Cristobal,” Teagan added. “He goes by Cris. And the other you have to watch for is Peck. Tim Peck.”

Luca laughed darkly. “Oh, I know all about Peck, girl. You don’t gotta tell me.”

All at once, the teens started to ramble off what they thought about Alanna.

“Yo, Raven ain’t the one to mess with,” Russell added.

“No shit!” Jake complained. “Fucked up my face today.”

“Yo, somebody said she pulled a knife on you at the park today,” Teagan said to Luca.

“Damien said he used to go out with her until she went nuts,” Josh added.

“I heard she attacked him,” Erin said.

“Yeah… She wasn’t in school for four months,” Rory added. “Heard she was in a mental hospital after she attacked Damien.”

“I heard she was in juvy,” Jake said. “She messed his face up bad. He has a huge red scar straight across his face now.”

“Where the fuck is Damien, anyway?!” Erin asked loudly.

“He’s in juvy now,” Teagan admitted.

“For what?!” Russell asked.

“Some bullshit he didn’t do,” Teagan spat as she rolled her eyes.

Luca glared at the group of kids in front of him who could most certainly not qualify to be called Philly’s finest. Waving his hand, Luca spat, “Enough about Foley. I don’t give a fuck! I want to know about Raven.”

The teens all stared up at Luca with nervous expressions oozing from their eyes.

“I used to think all these guys followed her around because she was pretty,” Jake admitted, “but there’s more to her than that.”

“She’s smart. Like, really smart…” Josh said.

“That’s an understatement…” Teagan said. “The teachers at school would always tell her grandmother to get her IQ tested. Well they finally did last year. She qualifies for fucking MENSA.”

Luca had a confused look on his face. “What the fuck is MENSA?”

Teagan rolled her eyes. “It’s like an organization for really, really smart people. Geniuses.”

“In computer class, the teacher raved because Alanna figured out how to build databases on her own,” Erin said in an annoyed voice. “Principal Lesher lost his marbles and asked if Alanna would let him use it for the front office.”

“It’s not just book smarts, though. She’s got street smarts. You can thank your boy Peck for that one,” Josh added. “He taught her how to fight a while ago.”

Luca looked intrigued as he listened to the teens talk about Alanna. Keeping his gaze upon Alanna’s photograph, Luca recalled their encounter today as his tongue swelled with desire.

“Beauty, brains and balls…” Luca moaned. “I may have to make this Raven my own.”

Teagan scoffed, “Good luck getting to her. Miss Goody-two shoes.”

Luca turned in his chair and gazed Teagan’s way. “Meaning what?”

“Dude, she’s as straight laced as they come,” Jake griped.

“Snobbishly so,” Teagan added.

Luca laughed as he rubbed his hands together. “A challenge. I’ve always loved the thrill of the hunt.”

Josh laughed, “Yo Pin, how do I say this? She ain’t buying what you’re throwing down…”

“Like at all…” Teagan spat. “I don’t even think she’s ever smoked weed before.”

“Nah, I seen her smoking with Peck the one day near school,” Josh added.

“Shit, find me a kid around here who doesn’t blaze up,” Jake said.

Luca laughed. “You kids are cute,” he said facetiously. Standing up from his chair, he approached Teagan and messed up her hair. He then reached for Jake’s face and mock slapped him. “You think I’m trying to recruit her? If today provide anything, it’s that Alanna is too smart to fall for any of the tricks used to reel in the likes of y’all.”

Teagan and Jake exchanged a dark look.

“No, no, no,” Luca continued in a smooth voice. “Alanna is collateral. A worm on a hook for a much bigger fish…” And while I have her, I just might take a bite, Luca opined.

“Peck,” Jake added. “He’s your bigger fish?”

Luca didn’t say anything as he glanced over at his wall of pictures. The gears in his head churned as he formulated his plan. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Protective. Loving. Desperate. He eludes me now, but I know, the way to Peck is through Alanna. The Raven said that she cannot be bought. But I’m not interested in buying. Simply tasting. She is a gem on loan, the match to my powder keg. The cost of Peck’s disloyalty will be his sanity, his life, and maybe her’s, too.

Taking another puff of his cigar, Luca blew out a fragrant cloud. As the details of his plan formulated in his brain, a satisfied smile curled up from his lips.

“Yes,” Luca said in a firm voice. “That is the way you unravel a man.”


An excerpt from “A Requiem for Winter”

An excerpt from “A Requiem for Winter” by Addison Kline

Psychological Thriller/Historical

All Rights Reserved




“Close your eyes, Poppy. Close your weary eyelids and allow sleep to take you away. Let your dreams enter the shadowed corners of your mind and take you to undiscovered lands. With your heart as a compass, and your mind as a map, let your subconscious  sweep you away.”

With her ginger hair resting wildly against her white silk pillow, Poppy looked at her father with a daunting expression in her gaze.

“And you, Poppa? When will you dream?” Poppy asked with a tender tone to her voice.

“Oh, my child,” Rhys answered in a gutteral voice. “I don’t sleep to dream. My mind plays on an endless stream of memories and thoughts, long buried truths and painful desires. When I close my mind, I long for nothingness, for darkness and silence.”

“Poppa,” Poppy sighed. “That sounds so lonely.”

“Ah, my child. With a mind as busy as mine, one can never be lonely.”



There’s nothing to writing…

“There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway


There are writers, authors, bards; those who pen words that come from their mind. Plot twists that were hatched in their mind without any passion behind it. Professionals that write what they think the masses will enjoy. Then there are artists, poets, visionaries who write the things that beg to be written. Hemingway’s quote always struck me. The only type of stories I know how to write, are the ones that make me bleed. The ones that seep into the black corners of my heart, and shadowed recesses of the mind, and they frighten me, stir me, excite me and shock me all at once. Write the things the stir your soul. Write the things that make you shudder in fear. Write the things that make your heart break and sing, shatter and renew.

The greatest disservice an author can give it’s reader is writing a book without pain and passion driving every word of the book. There are some who feel deeper than others. There are some who see the world differently. There are some who have been through hell – and they come back from the fiery ashes with a story to tell, passion to share, horrors to shed light upon and a love in their heart so tremendous that they have to share it.

Every book burns me.

Every character is deeply personal.

Every painful plot twist is torture. 

Every ending is both euphoric and heart-wrenching.

Every single book owns a little bit of the author’s soul.

Some writers write to entertain. Some writers write to lessen the burden of passion and pain in their wild hearts and weary minds. I am that author. I write because I must. I write because that is the only way I know how to make sense of this life. I have seen the best that life has to offer. I have seen the worst. I write to lighten my soul. I write to set a fire to another’s soul. I write because there are universes in me that have yet to be discovered. I write because I believe I have the power to change hearts, change minds, and change the world with the sweep of my pen.

Set the world ablaze with passion, one word at a time. Change the way people see the world and each other, one reader at a time.

Every time I write, as Hemingway put it, I bleed upon the page. It is the most intoxicating torture and thrilling release I have ever experienced, and day after day, I come back for more.

Find the thing that makes your heart sing and ache all at once.

I do not write for money. I do not write for popularity. I write because I must. I write because my brain will not still. I write because my heart aches for a world eradicated of pain and violence, cruelty and malice.

I write because my body, mind, heart and soul are all too small to contain the galaxy inside me.

-Addison Kline


Number 9,246,877.2 on my to-do list


Hello… you don’t mind if I type while I talk do you? Because I have 9,246,876 other things that need my attention before midnight tonight 😉 I’m not trying to be rude, truly, it just seems I wear too many hats. Whether by destiny or design, some women perform a multitude of roles each day.

Career-woman working outside of the house 8-10 hours a day.

Chef, or wannabe for that matter… hell, I’ll settle for edible. If the kids eat it, I’m good.

Maid. No husband, don’t go getting all excited. No French Maid costume for you until you learn to pick up your own gym socks. I imagine you’ll still be waiting well into your golden years for that one. 😉

Accountant. Here you go, rent, utilities, cable and groceries. Take my money.

Mrs. Fix It. Because duct tape does NOT fix everything.

Nurse. “Don’t put that up your nose.”

Mediator. “You do not hate your brother. You love him, you just have a funny way of showing it.”

Psychiatrist. “Just because your husband smiled at the mail lady, doesn’t mean he’s having an affair. He’s probably just happy because Wrestling is on tonight.”

Dog Walker. My dog can take a selfie but not be trusted to come back from a walk? I call bull shit.

Become an author and you can add about 7 more roles to that.

Writer… because the books don’t write themselves.

Editor. Because, yes, you do have to clean up your own words before your publish

Designer. These books need graphics for promotion. Do you have hundreds to shell out? I don’t. Even with my full time job.

Critic. Like it or not, become an author and you will self-critique. You will become your biggest critic. Saying words like, “This is crap.” “Steam-rolled garbage.” “Shit shit mega shit.” as you write. It gets ugly.

Marketing Maven. What’s the point of writing a book that no one is going to read? That’s why you have to market your book. Marketing is EXHAUSTING. With efforts on social media, on other online venues, and off the web, too. It is a full time job, which brings me to….

CEO. Hello. Addison Kline HBIC (Head Bitch in Charge for those not in the know). I am the President as well as the mail clerk, the records keeper, the operator, and the secretary. Hold please.

Customer Service Representative. Did you like that hold music? Please hold some more. Only 9,246,875 people ahead of you.

What is the point of this blog post? People are busy. You cannot spend every waking moment doing for others, and neglecting yourself. It just won’t work. Not even for a superwoman like me. Be kind to working mothers. Especially working mothers who are also authors. You can bet that they have ZERO time to themselves, and are taking time away from their almost non-existent relaxation time to answer messages, posts, tweets, and requests, so be kind and don’t diminish what they have accomplished in a day. I promise you, it’s probably way more than you’ve done all week.

Have you gone to the bathroom with an entourage of pets of children following you answering questions? Have you answered emails and inbox messages while you are running from the office to your car? Completely forgotten to eat because you are just so freaking busy? No? Did you sit down alone at some point today for a moment of peace? Yes? You’re one step ahead of the rest of us. Be kind. Don’t offend. Take a chill pill. Everything will sort itself out eventually.





What happens when your past comes back to haunt you…and seduce you?


After committing the unthinkable, the unforgivable, Tony Salvai relocates to paradise to reinvent himself and let go of the man he once was. But after one unforgettable night with a sultry and tantalizing redhead, he realizes that he can’t hide from his sins—they always find a way back.


Out for vengeance, Red searches for the one man who ruined her life. She’s got an agenda and a bullet with his name on it. But when she finally faces off against her sexy and remorseful enemy, will sparks fly or bullets ricochet?



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My name is Nicole Banks. I was born Aug 4th (Hello my fellow Leo’s lol) I’ve lived in New York City all my life and I love it here. It’s not what it use to be but, it’s still pretty dope. I love the warm weather and just being near the water. I think every problem can be solved with either yoga, tea or a quick nap. (Nothing is too big that those three things can’t solve) I like animals way more then people, cats especially. I think they’re my kindred spirits. If I could I would have a sanctuary built just for them. (I’m probably going to be that crazy lady with ten cats when I’m wrinkled and grey). I can survive off of pizza and pasta and I’m a coffee addict. I have so much caffeine in my system I can’t have coffee after a certain time or I’ll be up half the night lol.

While I’m a writer, music is my first love. Books are a second love of mine. I believe music heals your soul in ways nothing else can. I use music as my muse to write. I believe every song is just a story waiting to be told outside of the five minute mark. I published my first book Shattered in 2013 and it’s the first book in my Shattered Hearts Series. The second book Into Pieces was published on June 30th 2015. I’m currently working on the next installment in the series. I’m also working on a brand new story that will be a stand alone.



Instagram- @_nicolebanks_ Snapchat- queenzb87

I have a blog as well: http://www.nicolebanksauthor.blogspot.com/?m=1


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Shattered: He was finally home, but guilt weighed heavily on his soul. She’s been broken, running from a past she can’t seem to escape. Two childhood friends, beaten down by life, find their way back to each other after years of pain and torment. As passion and desire rises, can Jasmine and Angel find solace in each other’s arms? Or, are the shattered pieces of their lives too much for either of them to put back together? Join them on an intoxicating ride through life. With ups and down, laughs and tears, they’ve survived for this long being broken. Can they survive it just a little longer to find their own happy ending? Into Pieces: Our demons have been let out to destroy us. We’re both drowning, barely holding on. The storm we’re caught in was designed just to break us. But I have become her comfort and she has become my anchor. Standing together, we can conquer anything. Join Jasmine and Angel as their story continues in this second installment in the Shattered Heart Series. ***WARNING:This novel is intended for mature readers only. Novel contains a rape scene. While the content isn’t overly graphic to some, reader discretion is advised.***