Sunday, February 28, 2010
Take what people tell you with a pinch of salt. As an author I like to add spice to its recipe.
After a long day at work I wanted to meet with a friend in a bar-diner on 32street and Broadway in Manhattan. I sat waiting for her in the corner of the diner, and while I waited I examined the people around me. Looking, hunting for a character, or a story and that's when I saw him.
A man with broad shoulders, and short brown hair brushed back neatly. He was eating alone, looking into the space not his food, chewing but didn't seem to taste, or enjoy it. His eyes light honey color with a spark yet they had pain deep within them. His chiseled features told me he was in his thirties yet he looked as if he lived for eternity. Somehow I felt sad and wanting to go over his table and ask, "Why a gorgeous man like you is sitting alone?" Of course, that was a wishful thinking.
My friend came and rescued my little brain from its own exhaustion. But she noticed as we sat and ordered our food that I was peeking a glance at him every once in a while, then she looked at where I was looking and smiled. I had to ask the reason behind her smile; she said she knew the guy and she understood that I was not the only one, who was attracted to this gorgeous man. And she told me about him.
She said, "He always looks sad, his wife and him have problems. Everyone knew something wrong with their relationship, but no one knew what the problem was. He and his wife kept their problems to themselves."
Was he treating her badly, cheating on her? I asked many questions, and her answer was, "Not likely, the man never looked at any beautiful passing woman in his path. He is the most loving husband any woman could wish for, his wife never showed her affection toward him in front of people, and he always treated her as if she was the queen."
I formed an O and then squeaked, "You kidding me! I wish that." And I pointed at where he sat. "Was parked in front of my home, I would never let anyone ride him." The man was a MANLY MAN if you know what I mean.
She shook her head, and said she didn't know why. The author in me had to have an answer, even if I had to add some spice to this man's story. I can't tell you his real name, but I called him Adam Reed, and this is his story. This short story is free for my readers, but I have to warn you, it is a sad one, but with a HEA ending, wherever the ending may be ;)
To read the free short story 'Behind a Closed Heart' go to my website at http://www.suzannahsafi.com/Behindaclosedheart.html
I would love to know your opinion, I welcome all your comments.
Miranda Blair, a writer about mysterious death cases, is investigating the death of a child, Marcas Wardlaw, which triggers strange visions that draw her to Wardlaw Castle in Scotland.
In her visions, she is Rose, lover of Duncan, who, centuries earlier, was burned alive. Now, inextricably drawn to the modern-day Wardlaw family, Miranda is shocked to discover that the family nephew, Mac, carries a secret from the past, he recognize her as Rose and vows revenge.
As she unravels the family secrets of the Wardlaw clan, Miranda must find the answer to her own past to fulfill her destiny in love, or she's doomed to repeat history.
This Time You Are Mine
Mac’s grip on Miranda tightened and his body shookviolently. She didn’t know what was happening as he
moaned in agony. Dear God,what have I done? She struggled, unable to free herself from his grip.
“Mac, what happened?”she asked as his chest muscles tightened. He was sweating now, and the shivers had grown stronger. “Mac! Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
He inhaled sharply, then let her go as if stung by fire. Fear was etched into his face and his eyes were wide and watery. He moved away from her and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,but what happened?” she askedwith concern. She reached out to him,but he winced away from her.
“Nothing.”His chest heaved.
She was certain he was hiding something that disturbed him greatly, but what could it be? Surely not her book…the thought struck a chord within her.
Was that it? What was I thinking, letting him kiss me!
He was the man who wanted to stop her from publishing her book. She had come here to solve a mystery,to know the truth and to let her readers know it, too. Not to mention her need to understand her connection to the castle and why she was drawn to it. Love, lust, or whatever they were doing, was not in her plan.
Available now from www.champagnebooks.com
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Published: December 2009
Cover Artist: Amanda Kelsey
When the lovely Annabelle from California takes on a job in York, London as a companion for an embittered, paralyzed Chris MacCloud who has lost his wife in an accident, she finds herself strangely drawn to his savage sensuality. But she must overcome not only his deep mistrust of love, which is inflamed by her uncanny resemblance to his late wife, but also withstand the wicked relatives who are scheming for his fortune.
Little does Annabelle know that at the end of this twisted trail of passion and deceit lies, in the words of a song she has written, "what I'm looking for….it's worth every breath."
Can Chris forget his past, can Annabelle win his trust and teach him to love again? And can she herself learn to forgive and forget?
Available now from www.thewildrosepress.com
"Let go of me," she said, fearing what might happen next.
Chris tightened his grip on her back and drew her closer to him. Her wet blouse stuck to her body, and his broad, naked chest touched hers. Annabelle could feel his heart racing against her chest and his breathing grew faster.
"And what if I didn't?" His eyes didn't leave hers. "I didn't put you in this position. Your clumsiness did. I saved your life."
Obviously, he aimed to anger her so she'd leave. His serious tone held something else she didn't understand. She didn't know her body's reaction-whether she enjoyed the closeness of his body or churned by anger at his teasing.
No, she was definitely enjoying this.
Frustrated by her urge to kiss him, she said, shaking, "M...my clumsiness! You're the one who dropped the soap! Besides, you left the bathroom floor all wet and-"
Chris grabbed her head with one hand and kissed her hard, the other hand securing her back to prevent her from escaping. He then softened his kiss, but somehow managed to convey the same hunger through it.
Did she fight? No, she didn't.
Paralysis conquered her, or she wished she could make that excuse. Annabelle never enjoyed a kiss like this before. His sensual lips drove her out of her senses, and her body melted against his. Chris released her in a gradual sensuous motion. When she opened her eyes, a victorious grin spread on his face. She knew exactly what he wanted her to feel in that kiss-that he could control and weaken her. If she hated anything in life, it was feeling weak and letting people like him know the extent of her fragility.
A devilish smile took over Chris's lips as he once more clasped her waist. When Annabelle arched away, he caught her jaw between his thumb and forefinger to hold it still. She stiffened, prepared to resist this time.
But he took her by surprise. His mouth barely brushed hers, a delicate touch that raised goose bumps on her arms. Playful, seductive lips toyed with hers, the kiss as tempting as sweets to a starving child. Until now, she didn't know how starved she really was. But his mouth feeding on hers made hunger knot inside her stomach-a hunger for the unknown and exotic.
Chris planted his lips on hers firm and sure, and her world wobbled around her. His fingers traced the line of her jaw in a whispery stroke left her skin heated and tingling for more. Pressing his thumb on her chin, he opened her mouth then plunged his tongue inside. She froze from the sudden intimacy, but he calmed her with his hand and stroked the base of her throat where her pulse beat erratically. Annabelle couldn't help relaxing beneath his soft touches.
He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth as if it were made of honey he wanted to relish. With each foray of his tongue, he tasted and caressed her so provocatively she wondered about her sanity. Her pulse pounded in her ears. This disarming pleasure exceeded her expectations. Annabelle closed her eyes, surrounded in the arousing richness of his mouth exploring hers.
Tentatively, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. With a groan, he pulled her hips toward him. Exquisite pleasure raced from her head to the tips of her toes. He swept his tongue through her mouth as if he owned her. His hands cupped her buttocks, and he squeezed them hard.
This madness has to end.