She and I were far from chance.
Our first meeting orchestrated.
Our forever ill-fated.
Because I'm her enemy.
I'm her savior.
I'm her nightmare Romeo.
She'll thank me at the end of this, and if she doesn't, I'll force her to beg.
*Blindsight is intended for a mature audience only due to graphic sex, violence, and language.
Book Three will release early January 2016.
Blindsight # 1
Synopsis
Sometimes a single touch is all it takes to spark a wildfire.
Erin Warner learned that the day she bumped into the dashing, tattooed stranger on a busy Chicago street corner. She’s captivated from the moment his mystifying green eyes find hers, and it isn’t long before she finds herself flying to exotic locales to assist him, the award-winning erotic photographer Hunter Ellis, on location. What she didn’t bargain for was the way he makes her blood bubble and churn with lust and thinly-veiled promises of unfathomable erotic pleasure with every click of his camera.
But there is more to Hunter than meets the eye, including the intricately etched tattoos decorating his body that disguise horrific scars from a past he refuses to revisit. As she peels away the layers, Erin realizes that what she thought was true, never really was at all, for both of them.
Now she can only hope that blind adoration for the dashing stranger didn’t sign her death warrant.
The first in a thrilling new erotic serial intended for mature audiences.
I watched as she sat at the cafe. She looked worried,
rushed, continuing to gaze around, on edge. She should be. This was far from
over and she was too fucking naïve to know better.
I sighed, hoping she’d wrap up soon so I could get on with
it. I checked my watch as she sipped with a soft frown and fat tears in her
eyes. Affected by another man, again. Burned by love.
A bright white loading van pulled into the spot obscuring my
view of Erin. I grunted, having half a mind to run down there, pull out my nine
millimeter, and tell them to get the fuck out of the way.
I groaned when two guys in uniform jumped out and began unloading
a dolly and crates of fresh food before delivering it into the cafe.
“Christ.” I stuck my key in the ignition to move to a better
vantage point before my phone lit up, the distinct and ominous tone that pulsed
irritation through my bloodstream.
Looks like you lost sight of the target.
My eyes floated at the words, my brain failing to register
the meaning. The target.
“What the fuck?” I hurled from the car, darting across the
street as a horn blared. Ignoring it, I barreled on. Not after all this time.
Not possible.
My boot hit the curb and my eyes finally landed on the table
where Erin had sat.
Only this time pandemonium surrounded the scene. A woman
hollering, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pointed down the street. A
waiter tried to calm her, eyes darting from her crazed face and back to where
her finger pointed.
Where the fuck is she?
My eyes travelled the other faces obscuring my view. I
shuttled forward on heavy feet before I was close enough to see over the
frenzied heads. Three waiters, a bus boy, the hostess, and a half dozen diners
lingered around the small table.
She was gone.
“Where the fuck is she?” I grabbed a waiter by the elbow and
growled as I stepped into the suffocating circle of fear.
“Sh-sh-she-she-”Erin's mother stuttered, pushing my rage to
a tipping point.
I grasped the erratic woman's elbow and spun her to face
me.“FBI!” I flipped my badge. “Where is Erin Warner?” I yelled, every moment of
Erin’s life in the balance.
Dark eyes widened as terror fogged her features.“Taken.” Her
finger shook as she pointed down the street.
Jesus, no. On my watch and right under my nose, Erin had
disappeared.
Adriane Leigh was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan's Upper Peninsula and now lives among the sand dunes of the Lake Michigan lakeshore.
She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer.
She is married to a tall, dark, and handsome guy, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls. She is a voracious reader and wishes she had more time to knit scarves to keep her warm during the arctic Michigan winters.
Author Links
No comments:
Post a Comment