After her erotic romance novels become international bestsellers, writer Gillian Tate cannot enjoy her long-sought success once her husband files for divorce and she becomes the target of threats from a religious fringe hate group; but when she tries to find peace in the solitude of a remote lakeside cabin to complete the third novel in the trilogy, not only does she meet the man who can fulfil her secret desires, she also finds she hasn’t escaped danger by leaving the city.
When the Adirondack town's police chief Sam Taylor learns of the threats and checks in on the notorious author, he is surprised to find she is nothing like he would have expected from her erotic novels but everything he has imagined in his own fantasies.
Can he and the woman of his dreams escape her waking nightmare?
*Adult Content: This erotic romantic suspense includes scenes of bondage between consenting adults.*
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“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said.
“What question is that?”
“In your book, why does Em like to be tied up?”
“Does that mean you’re not going to finish?”
The hand on the back of her chair caressed the nape of her neck then brushed down her hair. He angled his face close enough that they shared the same Chianti-imbrued breath. “I always finish what I’ve started.”
“Then you’ll just need to keep going a little further to find out.”
“I’ll go as far as you let me.”
Shaking off the raw current sizzling through her, she said, “I must have had too much wine. Is this still about my novel?”
“Do you want it to be?”
She bit her bottom lip as she smiled. “Can I decide later?”
He lifted his hand and ran his fingertips along her hairline, against her temple, over her ear, then down her neck before twisting a lock of hair around his forefinger. As he did so, her lips parted and her eyelids fluttered down. She opened them, and he fixed her in his piercing gaze. “Of course.”
A lengthy, nervous breath escaped her pursed lips. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t remember how to do this.”
“I think you’re doing all right.”
When Gillian saw the police lights, she pulled over and turned off the engine but then smiled at the image in the rearview mirror, Chief Taylor’s strong, tall form in his uniform, no hat or sunglasses, walking toward her from his patrol car.
When he got to her door, she rolled down the window. “Is that a pistol in your holster, or are you just glad to see me?”
Resting his arms on the roof of her car, he leaned toward the window with a grin, meeting her eyes. “Ma’am.”
“Is there a problem, Officer?”
“Do you know how fast you were going?” he asked, playing along.
“How fast do you want me to be?”
He snickered and glanced over his shoulder at his patrol car before looking back at her. “Do you talk to all men like that? All this sexual innuendo?”
“I told you I’m out of practice. Maybe you just bring it out in me.”
“I’d like to believe that.”
“Well, this is out of one of my fantasies.”
“Being pulled over by a good-looking cop and getting frisked, then…doing whatever’s necessary to get myself out of a ticket.”
He swallowed then leaned through her window and spoke against her ear. “If it weren’t the middle of the day, and if there weren’t a dash-cam on that patrol car, I’d have you step out of your vehicle, assume the position, and spread your legs.” He stepped back as a heated flush overwhelmed her face.
When the pleasure of his touch did not force her eyes closed, she kept gazing up at him.
“You want a man who frees you by taking control. Am I right?”
She forced her reply out on soft breaths. “Yes.”
“Releasing you of all the pressure, all the worries.”
He lay against her, kissing her neck as he thrust his fingers deeper inside of her. “Freeing you of inhibitions. Freeing your mind, just to be, to be right here with me…just to feel.”
“Yes,” she said on a soft groan.
He pressed his lips to hers, sharing a kiss ripe with promise and demand, sending shockwaves of sensation through them both.
She whined when he sat up, releasing her mouth and her wrists and withdrawing his hand from between her legs. “I have to stop a second,” he said, then brought his wine glass to his lips with an unsteady hand. “Whew.” He ran his fingers through his hair then glanced back to where she lay with a slight smile aimed at him.
She raised herself up part way, her head braced on one hand with her elbow on the couch. “Do you want me to go?” she asked
He set his glass down then turned to her and shook his head, grinning back at her with fire in his eyes. “No. I want you to come.”
Blood rose in her cheeks as his hands traveled up the skirt of her dress.
Scarlet Hawthorne began writing short stories at the age of eight, poems at ten, and wrote her first novella – a romantic tragedy – at twelve. Today she enjoys creating characters who discover integrity and their authentic selves through their sexuality. She has been a speaker at national conferences discussing how power exchange can enhance relationships and refuting the negative stereotypes of BDSM promulgation in the media.
An award-winning and bestselling author in a variety of genres under other pen names, Scarlet was a featured author at the 2014 BDSM Writers Conference in New York City and contributed an excerpt from her upcoming romantic suspense Retrograde to the first BDSM Writers Con Anthology. Always eager to challenge herself as a writer, Scarlet utilized a “panoramic point of view” narrative style, rarely found in fiction today, in her latest novel Deadline.
Scarlet lives with her two dogs and their Master in a lakeside community in the New Orleans area. Her next release is the contemporary male/male romance Between the Notes, expected in spring, 2015.
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