Zoe Sutherland can’t stand the pushy, arrogant architect David Cavallo. He was just too damn sure of himself, too handsome, too…everything. Maneuvered into working as the interior decorator on his latest project, a glamorous new hotel, Zoe can’t keep her mind on the job. And worse, the strange man won’t give her access to the hotel’s floor plans. How is she supposed to finish the design when she doesn’t have the plans? And when the obnoxious man distracts her with every smoldering look, every touch…
David has one goal: get rid of the pesky interior designer. Since he’s been forced into close proximity with the beautiful Zoe, everything’s gone downhill. And to make matters worse, she’s only out to further her own career—and he’s not about to give her the hotel’s plans so she can steal his ideas. He needs to get her out of his system, and sleeping with her seems like the best way to do that. When it comes to women, he’s found the best way to handle them is to love ’em and leave ’em. But something strange is happening…because after a night of loving Zoe, he’s finding it harder than ever to leave…
I have been reading love stories for as long as I can remember and when I ‘met’ the classic authors like Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskell, Henry James The Brontë sisters, etc. during my studies, I was hooked for life.
I married my college boyfriend and soul mate and after 39 years, 3 beautiful children and 3 grandchildren, he still makes me weak in the knees. We are fortunate to live in the picturesque little seaside village of Betty’s Bay, South Africa with the ocean a block away and a beautiful mountain right behind us. And although life so far has not always been an easy ride, it has always been an exiting and interesting one!
I like the heroines in my stories to be beautiful, feisty, independent and headstrong. And the heroes must be strong but possess a generous amount of sensitivity. They are of course, also gorgeous! My stories typically incorporate the family background of the characters to better understand where they come from and who they are when we meet them in the story.
And then she swallowed. He bit the insides of his cheeks to prevent him from smiling. So, the lady wasn’t as cool as she pretended to be.
“I tried to contact you after Don and Caitlin’s wedding but you never answered any of my messages.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know perfectly well why I ignored those messages,” she said primly.
He leaned forward, enjoying her obvious discomfort. “You see, that’s just it. I don’t know. You kissed me, stormed away, and ignored all the messages I sent you.”
Her lips trembled slightly. “You were the one who kissed me,” she said, her eyes stormy.
“You didn’t kiss me back?” he asked, not quite understanding why he couldn’t stop baiting her.
She inhaled audibly, bent her head for a few seconds before she opened the file. “We can go ahead with the contract. That is, if you still want me to.”
“Oh, I still want you…” he said solemnly, waiting a millisecond before he added “…to.”
Her flared nostrils were the only indication that she’d caught his meaning.
“Good.” She got up. “I’ll ask Susan to contact you for the next meeting. Please make sure whoever you send has all the information available—budget, timeline and of course if…”
He also got up slowly. “Seeing that my brother suggested we make use of your firm, I will be working with you. Directly.” He emphasized the last word. “I don’t mind doing favors, but when money is involved, I have to protect the investment we’ll be making. I have to make sure you are not just a pretty face but can actually do the job. You obviously don’t really want to work for me, but you’ve realized it’s good for business. Therefore, I have to make sure our business doesn’t suffer because of yours.”
Social Media links:
Personal Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/elsa.winckler
Author Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/ElsaWincklerRomanceAuthor?ref_type=bookmark
Twitter: https://twitter.com/elsawinckler @elsawinckler
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-touchedtothesoul-1868797-149.html
If everyone keeps secrets, no one will survive…
Six months after the nightmare in Cross Keys, Kam Ryndel is enjoying her freedom in New Orleans and doesn’t miss the constraints of Elven society. She’s immersed herself in working missions for the CIA, even if it means less time to spend with her boyfriend, Seth. Seth’s not so happy about that. Having shouldered the responsibility of his family’s obligations, he’s losing patience with Kam’s lack of commitment to her own—and to him.
Then a guild worker is attacked by an invisible assailant, and everyone suspects another portal breach by rogues from Elvenrude. As Kam and Seth look for answers, a gang-related CIA mission interrupts the investigation, and Kam is taken to a place she never knew existed—beyond the Louisiana bayou.
Angered by Kam’s new mission, Seth enlists the help of his cousin Rhyden to solve the mysterious guild-worker attack. Instead of an assailant, they discover reports of ghost sightings all over town. Not that unusual for New Orleans, but these seem…different. In a mission complicated by gangsters, feuds, failing magic, and old enemies—and the uncertain loyalty of the Elven king—Seth learns something even worse. Kam is missing. And he isn’t sure if she’s alive or dead…
Youtube book trailer: http://youtu.be/F00BOGU125g
There are lots of dangerous things around Portland lately but, when a Demonic tattoo artist comes to town, everything goes to Hell, in DEMON’S INK.
This young adult novel is set in Portland, Oregon and with Halloween coming, you’ll want to have a scary story to share…
That’s where DEMON’S INK comes in: It’s about art, that’s more than anyone bargained for.
Drake and Bartos come to the Pacific Northwest, where they open yet another tattoo shop but Bartos has no trouble dealing with the competition because there’s nothing normal about his art. And he’s stealing more than clients from the local skin artists. He’s stealing their souls.
Customers fall in love with Bartos Slinderman’s tats but end up paying the ultimate price for their purchase because unlike Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, they can’t walk away from this art and it’s beautiful until the artwork takes on a life of its own…
Expectations can ruin everything. Like thinking my senior year was going to be something special. What a set up that was.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up.
I’d never been lucky. No one in my family was. I was probably only six when I’d heard grandpa say, “We come from a long line of losers.” He was talking to my Dad. I don’t even know about what. But, now, I know I should have listened to him.
Dad had already gone to prison, leaving Mom and me worse off than ever. And we were never good but, at least while he’d hung around, she managed to act like things were okay. Now she wasn’t even trying to pretend. Really it was way worse than that; she wasn’t even getting up off the couch any more.
I’d come home from school to find her passed out. The first couple times it freaked me out. Seeing her face-planted in the front room and not knowing whether she was alive or dead, I didn’t want to be the one to find her like that, to turn her over, to have to check to see if she was still breathing but I did. . . and I had no idea if she was high or drunk. I didn’t even care because what difference did it make? She was out of it. That was all that mattered.
So, after Dad went to jail, I was completely alone until Bartos made me a deal I couldn’t refuse but that was later.
For weeks, I’d come home after class and make a sandwich—if there was bread—otherwise it was a bowl of cereal for breakfast and dinner, sometimes I’d eat it dry because the milk had gone bad.
I knew I was going to have to get a job if I wanted to survive and I’d started looking around but that was right before everything changed.
It was late one Thursday evening. I still remember because I was thinking, “Only one more day…” I just didn’t know how right I was.
I don’t know what woke me up that night. Maybe it was the smell, the heat, the sound of my Mom screaming. I really don’t know. But I opened my eyes to the thick burning haze of a room filled with smoke.
I’d gone down into the basement that night and fallen asleep.
Looking around, I already knew there were no windows. I was trapped.
BUY THE BOOK HERE:
SOCIAL MEDIA SITES:
And join me on Twitter or stop by and see what I’m pinning on Pinterest and, if you’ve read Demon’s Ink and have a question or simply want to share a comment, please feel free to send me an email. I love connecting with readers.
What is it about bad guys? They really are fun to write about. Male and female. I loved writing about Azul, the drug dealer with the blue, blue wolf’s eyes. I also loved writing about Nara, his pretty and flawed girlfriend, a bad girl in the book and a menace to the heroine, but a character I found a lot of fun. Etopia author and editor Dani-Lynne Alexander agreed, she suggested giving Nara her own book one day. That would be fun too.
Hope you enjoy this steamy excerpt from Letting Evil In
EXCERPT – LETTING EVIL IN – Ellie Eden
The glint of something on the floor caught her eye. She lifted her head to get a better view. Azul’s gun! Wow, it was impressive. Dark steel, gleaming. A long, lethal-looking barrel. Marcelo said it was a Glock. A semi-automatic. So fucking cool. She wondered what it felt like to hold it.
Sliding quietly off the bed, she tiptoed across the floor and picked it up, wrapping both hands around it like she’d seen Marcelo do. The Glock felt solid, the steel cold against her skin, the weight in her palm. Her hand curled around the grip and her index finger slid naturally onto the trigger loop. Standing naked in front of the mirrored wardrobe doors, she raised her arms aiming at the ceiling. Ooh. That looked so good. Like she was the star of an X-rated movie.
“Put that down.”
She started and whirled around.
Azul sat on the edge of the bed and looked straight at her, eyes narrowed.
She giggled. “Make me,” she said. Then walked slowly toward him, aiming the gun at him and moving it slowly from side to side.
“Give that to me.” His voice was cold.
She shook her head. The feeling of power that came from holding the Glock was incredible.
Azul held out his hand, palm open.
She stood over him, head tilted to one side, looking at him. Slowly she lifted her eyebrows. No way could he dare grab the gun. All the power in the room belonged to her.
She was really enjoying this.
Not so much.
He looked angrier by the minute. What was it with guys that they hated women to be in control?
“Give me that now.”
Deciding not to make him too mad, she shrugged and handed over the weapon.
“You know the safety is off, don’t you?” Azul said.
“So?” Lying down on the bed beside him, she stretched. A really nice kittenish-sort of stretch. “What sort of gun is it?”
“It’s a Glock.”
“So, it’s your favorite, huh?”
“Will you teach me how to shoot with it?”
“No.” Azul raised the Glock and placed the tip of the barrel on her throat. She inhaled, staring at him wide-eyed. Slowly he moved the muzzle from one side of her throat to the other. She froze, not daring to move away. He moved it slowly up to her chin and around her trembling lips, and then drew a line down between her breasts.
Hardly daring to breathe, she felt the cold, steel muzzle circle her breasts and then trace gently round and round the tips of her nipples. Quivering with fear and excitement, she reached out for him, but he drew back.
“Keep still,” he warned.
She felt the cold muzzle running down her stomach now. She arched her back and felt her body tighten, half with excitement, half with dread. What was he doing? Was he still angry with her? Was he going to off her? Her voice shook as she said, “Is the safety on now?”
“Thought you didn’t care about that?”
Sliding his knee in between her thighs, he pulled her legs further apart. She writhed at the sensation of the barrel tip descending lower and until it came to a halt on the sweet spot between her legs. Heart racing, she moaned as the edge of the barrel circled deliciously round and round her clit until she felt it swollen and throbbing. Dizzy with fear and desire, not daring to move too much in case the gun went off, she ached for more. It was the scariest, most exciting thing she’d ever felt. Low down there, she could feel her body clenching, throbbing, wanting more. She exploded in sensation, crying out as she spiraled into a throbbing orgasm. The Glock fell with a thump to the floor, and Azul moved between her legs, ramming himself inside her, moving faster and faster, until he cried out and collapsed on top of her.
“Fuck, baby!” he gasped.
Drenched in sweat, she smiled with satisfaction. She couldn’t have said it better herself.