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30 Days 30 Authors- Tasha L. Harrison

Hi everyone!! The 30 Days 30 Authors event continues with Tasha L. Harrison! Get to know her as an author as well as check out her book, The Truth of Things, which is available now.

Now, here’s Tasha! 🙂


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Often accused of navigating life without a filter, Tasha L. Harrison has managed to brand herself as the author who crafts characters and stories that make you feel all of the feels. She writes African American, interracial and intercultural erotica and erotic romance with heroines just as brazen as herself and heroes that know that they are messy and dramatic but love them anyway.

She lives in Upstate South Carolina with two not-so-smallish men and one super needy boxer dog. When she’s not writing filth, she is pretending to be a photographer and riding around with the top down on her Jeep Wrangler, Amber.

Tasha L. Harrison also edits all things ROMANCE at Find her at: @tashalharrison on twitter

Her series THE LUST DIARIES is available now!

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1. Besides writing, what else do you like to do? 

Outside of writing romance, I also edit romance at When I’m not doing that, I am busy being a mom to my two not-so-smallish men and my boxer dog Cassius. Or you can find me hanging out with The Queen Photographers, pretending to be a photographer.

2. What inspired you to become an author?

There was no point of inspiration, I’ve always been an author. I just needed to write the stories!

3. What was your first reaction when your debut novel was published?

After completing my first full-length novel, In Her Closet, I was mostly relieved that it was over and proud of myself for getting it done. Then I immediately started writing the next one! 4. Are you currently working on any new projects?

My newsletter subscribers will be getting the epilogue of The Truth of Things (make sure you subscribe!), but after that, I’m going to spend the remainder of the year plotting my next series called Situationships! The first book will be Swipe Right, and I hope to have that ready for release in Spring of 2018.

5. Where do you see yourself in the next 5 years?

In the next five years, I hope to be a modestly wealthy, midlist author, living off of my words and writing the stories I want to write.

6. What advice can you give to anyone who wants to become an author?

To aspiring writers, study your craft and be an eternal student of the written word. Learn to be an entrepreneur as well as a writer because the business side is the hardest to master. Read outside of your genre, outside of your comfort zone. Read books by and about folks who don’t look like you. Read, read, read. It’s the best way to learn how to tell stories.

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Photojournalist and wedding photographer Ava Greene has been unlucky in love, and even though she calls herself a hopeless romantic, she is more than a little bitter about it. The only attention she seems to get is from the men she has absolutely no interest in and has become unintentionally celibate in her effort to avoid “trash ass dudes” and has officially given up on the idea “the one” when Officer Friendly rolls up on her block.


Arrogant and just shy of being a cornball with his bad-dad jokes, she knows that this stocky cop might just be the one to make her second-guess every thought she ever had about cops.

Ava tries to make it clear to Levi that she doesn’t need saving, that she doesn’t need to be worshiped, but he is convinced that is exactly she needs. But when Ava finds herself on the wrong side of the law, will he be the hero she needs or toe the “thin blue line?”

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Excerpt from The Truth of Things:

Walking through the doors of Camden City Police Department wasn’t something I ever saw myself doing voluntarily. Memories of the last time I was here flooded me as I stepped across the threshold of the precinct. I shook my head, pushing away those thoughts and the feelings attached to them and walked right up to the Sergeant’s desk.

“Excuse me—”

“One second, honey.” The cop behind the desk said, holding up one finger to silence me as he continued to scribble in his notebook. I gritted my teeth.

Do not show your ass in this police station.

After what seemed like an eternity, the officer lifted his head. Within seconds his countenance went from rude and dismissive to leering. “What was it you needed, beautiful?”

“I want to file a complaint.”

His mouth twisted into a sour expression. “For what?”

“Property damage. I was detained by a couple of your officers last night, and one of them damaged my lens. I’m a photojournalist, and I need that lens for work.”

The desk sergeant sighed and reached under his desktop. “Fill out this paperwork, and someone will contact you about reimbursement.”

“Great. Awesome.”

No-fucking-body was reimbursing me for the damage to this lens. I mentally assessed the balance of my credit cards and tried to figure out if I could replace it as I filled out the complaint form.

When I was done, I brought the clipboard and my form back to the desk. “Can you give me some info on two men arrested last night?”

“What are their names?”

“Two guys with the first names Emiliano and Khalid.”

“Do you know the names of the arresting officers?”

“Raymond and Stevenson.”

The desk sergeant entered the names and took some time to scroll through the records. “Looks like Emiliano Perez was released this morning. Khalid Williamson is still in custody.”

“Okay, thanks.” I pushed away from the desk and turned to leave…

And slammed right into a sweaty, panting Officer Levi Raymond.


My eyes didn’t know where to land first. His gorgeous face, dark brows, thick dark lashes. He wore a stretched out singlet top which was basically a rag meant to strategically cover his nipples. Remnants of last night’s dream flickered through my mind as I watched a droplet of sweat trickle down his chest, a chest covered in curling, wet hair. Slightly damp sweatpants that hung low on his hip bones revealed those two lines on either side of his abdomen that said hey, look down here! Iliac furrows, that’s what they were called and, holy shit, was that the imprint of his—

“Ms. Greene? Is everything all right?”

I managed to drag my eyes away from his crotch and back to his face.

“Those guys didn’t come after you did they?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned. “Did something happen?”

I shook my head, eyes tracking a droplet of sweat from his neck to his chest. “No. No…I…” My mouth was suddenly very dry…Can I please lick that droplet of sweat off of your chest? “Your partner broke my camera lens,” I blurted. “Came in to file a complaint.”

His brow crinkled. “Okay. I’m sorry to hear that your property was damaged. I’m sure the precinct will take care of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure they will,” I said rolling my eyes, annoyance about my damaged property overriding my sudden lust-triggered, bashfulness.

He stared at me a moment longer. “Is there something else you need? Are you confused about something?”

“Excuse me? Confused? No, absolutely not.”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” He gave me an uneasy smile.

“Well, I did want to thank you for walking me home.”

Wait. No. That’s not what I meant to say at all.

“Really? You didn’t seem all that grateful last night.”

“Yes, really. I’m not usually that rude. Well, no. That’s a lie. I am usually that rude, but maybe I was a little too harsh—”

“Miss Greene…it’s fine.”

“Call me Ava.”

“Ava,” he said, his voice filled with the smile that tickled the corners of his mouth. “You can call me Levi.”

And suddenly I was thinking about how that voice would sound in a much lower, much more secretive tone.

“I overstepped. I apologized.”

“No, it wasn’t—you didn’t overstep. I still should’ve been more gracious.”

“Okay, how about this. How about you treat me to a cup of coffee?”


“Buy me a cup of coffee, and all is forgiven,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“I…but I’m on my way to work.”

“So I’ll take a raincheck.” He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, tugging them just a bit lower and short-circuiting my brain.

“Is that appropriate?” I asked.

And more importantly was this what I wanted? When I walked into the police station, I meant to file a complaint for damage done to my camera lens and maybe check on Emiliano. But Levi, standing in front of me all sweaty and hairy and manly in all the right ways, demanded more of my attention. And he smelled so good. How could he be so sweaty and smell so good? God, he smelled like something I wanted to hold in my mouth, roll over my tongue, savor for a good long time.

“So what do you say? Coffee? Doughnut? And I’ll accept your deep and abiding gratitude?” Officer Levi Raymond grinned.

I swayed on my feet. What the fuck? Was he so goddamn fine that he actually made me swoon? And was that really the outline of his fucking dick in those sweatpants!

Shit. I’m staring at his crotch again.

“So raincheck? I’m off on Wednesdays.”

“Yeah, sure. Raincheck.”

“How about you give me your phone so that I can put my number in.”

“Okay.” I reached into my bag and produced my phone.

“You have to unlock it, Ava.”

“Yes. Right.” I took the phone from him and pressed my thumb to the home key until it unlocked then handed it back to him again.

Levi entered his name and his number and handed the phone back to me. “So give me a call or text when you want to meet up for that coffee or a drink or whatever.”

“Okay.” Oh, god. What was my face doing? Was this a big stupid grin spreading across my face?

“So, I’m gonna go back here and take a shower so…”

“Yeah, right of course. See you later.”

He gave me a smile that made the grin on my face stretch wider if that was humanly possible. I must look like the Cheshire goddamn cat right now. Then I topped it all off with a girlish wave as he disappeared behind the door.

All the bad memories of my last time in this police station were far away as I made my way back to the door. I practically floated out of that bitch. But by the time my doc martens hit the sidewalk the witchcraft of his smile had worn off.

Did I just agree to go on a date with a cop?

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Win an eBook copy of The Truth of Things, along with eBooks from each participating author in the 30 Days 30 Authors giveaway!

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