Happy New Years Eve everyone! I spent yesterday reviewing the page proofs for Say My Name, which is the first book in my new Stark International series which takes place in and around the corporate world that #DamienStark built. Can I just say that I’m so happy with the way this book turned out? It’s always a good sign when you get caught up in the story again and forget to actually be on the look-out for typos … and when you cry! This is the first book featuring Jackson Steele and Sylvia Brooks (Damien’s assistant from the Stark Trilogy!) Scroll down for part of the first chapter (and a link to the entire first chapter!) Amazon/Kindle amzn.to/1rf9aTO AmazonUK amzn.to/1t6MREZ B&N/Nook bit.ly/113hekR Books-A-Million bit.ly/1Eg63Ug Kobo bit.ly/1zk23PR iBooks bit.ly/1EleqPk IndieBound bit.ly/1yXRiGk Google Play bit.ly/1zk23PR Chapter 1 The thwump-thwump of the helicopter’s rotors fills my head like a whisper, a secret message that I cannot escape. Not him, not now. Not him, not now. But I know damn well that my plea is futile, my words flat. I can’t run. I can’t hide. I can only continue as I am—hurtling at over a hundred miles per hour on a collision course with a destiny I thought I had escaped five years ago. And with the man I’d left behind. A man I tell myself I no longer want—but can’t deny that I desperately need. I clutch my fingers tighter around the copy of Architectural Digest in my lap. I do not need to look down to see the man on the cover. He is as vivid in my mind today as he was back then. His hair a glossy black, with just the slightest hint of copper when the sun hits it just so. His eyes so blue and deep you could drown in them. On the magazine, he sits casually on the corner of a desk, his dark gray trousers perfectly creased. His white shirt pressed. His cuff links gleaming. Behind him, the Manhattan skyline rises, framed in a wall of glass. He exudes determination and confidence, but in my mind’s eye, I see even more. I see sensuality and sin. Power and seduction. I see a man with his shirt collar open, his tie hanging loose. A man completely at home in his own skin, who commands a room simply by entering it. I see the man who wanted me. I see the man who terrified me. Jackson Steele. I remember the way his skin felt as it brushed mine. I even remember his scent, wood and musk and a hint of something smoky. Most of all, I remember the way his words seduced me. The way he made me feel. And now, here above the Pacific, I can’t deny the current of excitement that runs through me, simply from the prospect of seeing him again. And that, of course, is what scares me. *** Read the entire first chapter at my blog ... bit.ly/13JMqpW
Posted on: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 17:50:01 +0000
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