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Russian’s Ruthless Demand

Posted on Oct 12, 2014 in Books

Russian’s Ruthless Demand

Out of the ice, into the fire! Determined to prove herself to her illustrious family, Eleanore Harrington accepts an offer to create a glittering new ice hotel. The catch? Her new boss is Lukas Kuznetskov, a man as cold and unyielding as the ice she works with. Lukas assumed that Eleanore would melt to his every command. But his blood is fired by the white-hot embers smoldering between them, and his focus shifts from professional to pleasure! When he discovers Eleanore’s body is as pure as the driven snow, the ruthless Russian makes her virginity his final demand… Welcome to The Chatsfield! Order on Amazon Read an excerpt from the first chapter. You’re breaking up Petra. Who did you say quit? Lukas Kuznetskov frowned down the phone line, straining to hear as his PA explained the latest issue with the supposedly creative genius who had been hired to build his ice hotel. Apparently the man had stormed out after Lukas had questioned his latest offering, complaining that he was too controlling and stifled his creativity. Creativity? He swore under his breath. So far Lukas had come up with the overall concept of the hotel himself while the architectural wizard had done little more than fill in the technical details and organise the preliminary build. With only a month left until the most anticipated project in Russia was due to open it was fair to say Lukas was a little agitated. ‘Please tell me he at least redesigned the interior of the guest bedrooms like I asked,’ he growled, grinding his teeth when Petra confirmed that no, he had not. Useless, lazy, good for nothing… Lukas sucked in a sharp breath as he strove for calm and told Petra he’d handle it. As if he wasn’t busy enough. ‘Trouble?’ Having momentarily forgotten his Italian ship engineer was in the room Lukas turned away from the splendour of Italy’s Adriatic coastline and glanced at the plans laid out on a scored wooden table. They had just finished going over his design for a supertanker that could carry twice as much cargo as any other on the market and go at twice the speed. If they could pull it off it would be another feather in Lukas’s already well plumed cap. Tomaso Coraletti was as close to a friend as Lukas had ever allowed himself to have and the older man stroked his neat beard as he listened to the problem. ‘Biscotti, Lukas?’ Turning, Lukas replaced his scowl with a smile when he saw Tomaso’s sweet wife Maria standing before him with a silver tray of freshly made biscotti in her hands. Tomaso reached across and took a piece before Lukas could respond and got his hand swatted for his efforts. ‘Bah!’ she scolded. ‘Lukas is a growing boy. He needs it more than you.’ Tomaso scoffed and Lukas chuckled. He’s stopped growing a long time ago and they both knew it. ‘Grazie mille, Maria.’ He took a slice of the treat even though he didn’t want it and pocketed his phone. ‘It is the best biscotti in the whole of Italy.’ Tomaso boasted. ‘Maybe one day you will be lucky enough to have someone make you biscotti like this if you’re good.’ Lukas had known Tomaso ever since he joined his first container ship as a deck boy. In fact it had been Tomaso who had gotten him the job. He had been the ship’s engineer and had convinced his brother, the Captain, to give Lukas a trial. He’d been sixteen year old troublemaker at the time but still different from the other street kids from the putrid sector of town he’d grown up in because he had ambition. Something the older man had recognised when Lukas intervened while a group of young thugs tried to fleece Tomaso of his pocket change. Of course Lukas hadn’t trusted his good will straight away. While most of his peers sought safety in numbers, joining or forming gangs to keep them safe, Lukas kept to himself, learning at a young age that needing others...

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Revenge in Room 426

Posted on Oct 12, 2014 in Books

Revenge in Room 426

Step behind the hotel room doors of the Chatsfield, London… Journalist Chloe Tyler has a plan: 1. Use the press junket for Liam Hunter’s latest movie to get revenge. She shares a past with this movie star and his betrayal left her broken-hearted and a total laughing stock. 2. She’ll use him, seduce him and once he’s begging? Cut him loose. But Chloe is playing a dangerous game and soon a pretend seduction becomes all too real! Suddenly the world’s best laid plan for revenge might just be the one thing standing in the way of Chloe’s happiness! This is a short story on Amazon Kindle. Read an excerpt It was him! No, no, it wasn’t… damn, yes it was. And he looked… Chloe Tyler flattened herself against the brickwork at the Chatsfield London hotel and tried not to stare. Which was a bit like those lab experiments where small children were told not to touch a plate full of cookies or something equally tempting, because Liam Hunter was born to be stared at. He always had been. The most popular boy in high school, probably the most popular boy in kindergarten as well, he was, at twenty three, now the most popular star to grace the silver screen. Privileged. Wealthy. Spoilt. Chloe pulled a face. Basically the opposite of her. The poor, dorky exchange student who had gone to America looking for adventure and come away with egg on her face. Like every other girl in senior high she had fallen head over heels in love with him. Then she’d got to know him when she’d started tutoring him in English and not only did she think him the best looking guy she had ever seen but the nicest as well. Boy, did he relieve her of that misapprehension very spectacularly. And very publicly. His horrible prank had been the most humiliating experience of her life and he’d even posted the video of it on YouTube where it had gone viral. God, even her father had seen it. Making sure to keep well out of his line of vision Chloe was unable to tear her eyes away from his long, muscular frame as he strolled along the red carpet and greeted what seemed like thousands of screaming fans and paparazzi. It had been five years since the nightmare of prom night. Making sure to keep well out of his line of vision Chloe was unable to tear her eyes away from his long, muscular frame as he strolled along the red carpet and greeted what seemed like thousands of screaming fans and paparazzi. It had been five years since the nightmare of prom night. Five years since she had seen Liam Hunter – aka rat loser extraordinaire – in the flesh and unfortunately he looked better than ever. Larger. Leaner. His tawny brown hair, worn long now, sat just above shoulder length in an artful array of thick layers. His broad shoulders were encased in a navy blue shirt open over his trademark white t-shirt, and aged denims road low on his lean hips and muscular thighs, ending in worn workman boots. Ha. The man – for that was what he was now – had never done a day’s hard labour in his life. He was the Golden Boy who could do no wrong, except that he had a snake’s personality and he thought nothing of hurting others. Of hurting her. And her fall had been that much steeper because he’d done it after making her feel so special. So wonderful. So beautiful. Yeah, right. That should have been her first clue that something was up. If there was one thing Chloe wasn’t it was beautiful. Oh, she had some pluses – she had creamy skin that despite her red hair hardly freckled and blue eyes with long dark lashes and an okay smile. Unfortunately she had red hair – really red hair – that had a tendency to frizz when it was humid and her nose was a little on the prominent side, made worse, in her...

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Prince Nadir’s Secret Heir

Posted on Oct 12, 2014 in Books, Coming Soon

Prince Nadir’s Secret Heir

Back cover Blurb Prince Nadir’s brief liaison with virginal Moulin Rouge dancer Imogen Reid was over almost before it began. And Imogen fled…carrying something very precious to Nadir. Now he’s found her again and he has a plan: Step 1: Take Imogen and their daughter back to Bakaan. Step 2: Ignore his body’s betraying desire for the woman he never forgot. Step 3: Marry Imogen, thus securing his heir and stabilizing his desert kingdom. But step two proves increasingly difficult to execute, especially when it’s clear he’s not the only one struggling. So now it’s time for plan B…finish what they started in Paris! Order on Amazon Read an excerpt from Chapter one Some days started out well and stayed that way. Others started out well and rapidly deteriorated. This day, Nadir Zaman Al-Darkhan, Crown Prince of Bakaan, decided as he stared at a very large and very ugly statue squatting in the corner of his London office, was rapidly sliding towards the latter. ‘What the hell is that?’ He glanced over his shoulder at his new PA, who blinked back at him like a newly hatched owl transfixed by a wicked wolf. She’d been recommended by his old PA, whose recently acquired husband had taken offence at the seventeen-hour work-days Nadir habitually kept, and he wasn’t sure how she was going to work out. In general people either treated him with deference or fear. According to his brother, it had something to do with the vibe he gave off. Apparently he emanated an aura of power and ruthless determination that didn’t bode well for his personal relationships, which was why he didn’t have many. Nadir had merely shrugged when Zach had delivered that piece of news. Personal relationships ranked well down below work, exercise, sex and sleep. Not always, a sneaky voice whispered in his ear and he frowned as that voice conjured up an image of a woman he had once briefly dated over a year ago and had never seen since. ‘I believe it’s a golden stag, sir,’ his PA all but stuttered, definitely falling into the fearful category. Applying some of that ruthlessness his brother had mentioned, Nadir banished the image of the blonde dancer from his mind and turned back to the statue. He could see it was a stag and he only hoped it hadn’t once been alive. ‘I got that, Miss Fenton. What I should have said is—what the hell is it doing in my office?’ ‘It’s a gift from the Sultan of Astiv.’ Ah, just what he needed—another gift from some world leader he didn’t know, offering commiserations over the death of his father two weeks ago. He’d only been back in Europe a day since the funeral and he was, frankly, tired of the reminders which always brought up the fact that he felt nothing for the man who had sired him. Annoyed, he strode across to his desk and sat down. His PA stopped in his doorway with her iPad clutched to her chest. ‘Tell me, Miss Fenton. Should a person feel badly that their father has just passed away?’ His PA’s eyes slowly widened as if he’d just raised a gun to her head. ‘I couldn’t quite say, sir.’ Meaning she didn’t want to say. Which didn’t surprise him. It wasn’t as if he was known for seeking out the personal opinion of those who worked for him. Not on private matters anyway. Still, he couldn’t quite contain his frustration as his PA shuffled into his office and perched on the edge of an office chair. Between fear and awe he’d go with awe every time but his new PA looked as if she was waiting for him to attack her with a blunt instrument, which could have something to do with the whole host of unwanted emotions and memories his father’s death had stirred up in him. He knew a shrink would tell him that was a good thing. As far as Nadir was concerned, long buried emotions and memories were long buried for a very good...

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About Damn Time

Posted on Mar 9, 2014 in Blog

For an update on my world! Whew… I”ve been off the social media circuit for a while. I was feeling very introspective until about December last year and then there was the madness of Christmas and summer holidays. It was the first time in three years I haven”t had a book due just before Christmas and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Then January went by in a blur and as soon as school started back I have been deep in the cave writing my next book. Which is due in with my editor in a couple of weeks. And I LOVE the story… mind you, I do love all Dat kan bijvoorbeeld de betaalmethode zijn of het aanbod aan spellen online casino , maar de taal waarin de casino games worden aangeboden kan ook een criterium zijn. the books I write – until I hate them – and then I love them again. This one is my first Sheikh and I didn”t know he was a Sheikh until literally 35,000 words in. So I”m madly reworking the scenes to incorporate this new facet of my hero. Boy, is he about to get his comeuppance. But during my holiday time I wrote heaps of scenes and read heaps of books. I do love reading. I also went to movies and generally caught up on family stuff.  Which was great. Hope everyone else has had a super start to the year. And not eating too many Easter Eggs which have been out in the shops for far too long.!...

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Socialite’s Gamble

Posted on Nov 19, 2013 in Books, Coming Soon

Socialite’s Gamble

June 2014. Blurb: When the gentleman places his bet… As the darling of London’s party scene, Cara Chatsfield isn’t surprised when her father’s CEO sends her to Las Vegas to host The Chatsfield’s world-famous poker tournament. And if behind the glitz and glamour there’s a girl hurt by her past? She’ll never tell. Aidan Kelly detests women like Cara, but when his biggest rival includes Cara in the stakes, Aidan must win—and not just for her protection! But getting to know the stunning socialite, he discovers a beautiful, vulnerable young woman awoken by his own personal brand of passion! Welcome to the Chatsfield, Las Vegas! Order on Amazon   Read an unedited excerpt from Chapter One By rights Cara should have felt like she was on top of the world. And she had been yesterday when her agent had informed her that she had won the lucrative Demarche cosmetic contract that would take her modelling career in a more serious direction. On some level Cara still couldn’t believe her agent had pulled it off and she probably wouldn’t relax until the big announcement was made at a glitzy event in London the following Sunday evening. Eight days from now. It was going to be such a big deal that despite all her experience in the public eye, Cara knew that she would be nervous on the night. Especially when things had a tendency to go wrong for her at peak moments in her life and she had no idea why. Not that she would let anything get in the way this time. Her agent had worked incredibly hard to paint Cara in the best light possible. To explain that she had changed, that she was no longer the Chatsfield wild child and all-round party girl but a young woman who was revered by others around the world. Cara secretly thought that had been pushing it a bit but Harriet genuinely believed in her and Cara would not let her down. Especially after so many people had tried to distance themselves from her after that hideous rock video she had mistakenly agreed to appear in. Before the censorship board had pulled it, it had come with an R rating but naturally, it had gone viral before then. Cara had thought that she would never get a decent job again after that. Certainly that’s what her father had said. Which brought her right back to why she couldn’t yet bask in the glow of her big win. She was late. Seriously late. Not entirely her fault because really, who could have predicted that she’d get stuck on the tarmac at LAX for five hours due to an unexpected electrical storm that had hung over the city like a bad smell. And by the look of the teeming rain outside she supposed she was lucky the plane had even landed in Vegas and not been rerouted to say… Uzbekistan! That would be more in keeping with the day she was having. Probably she shouldn’t have even detoured from London to LA but when she’d been told that she had to go to Vegas, she’d wanted to stop off and take her agent to lunch. Somehow lunch had turned into a private celebratory party and… well; she wouldn’t waste time regretting it. No one other than her siblings had ever shown her any support in her life and Harriet had said it was important. ‘More important, than tonight,’ she grumbled, wanting to kiss the aisle as the line of passengers started to shuffle toward the exit doors. Poker was hardly important even if the game she was supposed to hostess later that night at one of her father’s flagship hotels had the largest buy in of any Casino in the Western world. It was only money. Glancing at the time on her phone she shoved it back into her shoulder bag and strode down the aerobridge. One hour. One hour that apparently included a thirty minute taxi ride from McCarran International to the glittering diamond on the Las Vegas strip – The Chatsfield...

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I Quit Sugar – 19th November 2013

Posted on Nov 19, 2013 in Blog

So I’ve been off sugar for 4 weeks now. I decided to go off sugar in January 2013. Yes, 10 month ago. That lasted for about two weeks. Okay, maybe 1 and a half. I remember I was so proud of myself at the caravan when I bypassed the chocolate blocks in the fridge or passed up the offer of an ice cream. Like I said, that lasted about 1 and a half weeks. This time I’m a lot more serious. I think I started back a month ago because I noticed that sometimes after eating chocolate I would feel nauseous. Not all the time. And I can’t pin it to anything specific, but I found myself not finishing off a really rich dessert that I use to breathe in without any trouble at all. It was like my body was rebelling or something. I also noticed that I was getting fat. Or, more than fat, I was getting that dimpled Demi Moore look on my legs and the backs of my arms. Not pretty. Poor, Demi. I feel bad for her that one photo should have meant so much, but hey, she got fit out of it! Anyway. I’m 45. This is as good as it’s going to get an it’s still a surprise to look in the mirror and see the older version of myself. The older version that looks freakishly like my mother. And I don’t want to end up as boxy (sorry mum) or as unfit as my mother. So I’m combining a lack of sugar with boot camp twice a week. Boot camp was supposed to inspire a few more days of self-motivated exercise but I’ve successfully resisted that so far. But not for much longer. So. I am following Sarah Wilson’s eight week quit plan. It’s not that awe-inspiring or “new” but for $15 I have a “friend” or “bible” to consult when I’m at a low ebb. Like now. I’ve had a cheese wholemeal roll for lunch (not that exciting today) and a raw carrot. Now I have a cup of tea next to me and a small bowl of pistachios. The pistachios help the cravings a lot. It must be the salt. Not that I’ve had a huge amount of cravings. But I’ve had some. And I think I’m having more. Which is where the $15 “friend” comes in handy. I read the 4 week chapter before and skipped ahead to week 5. She mentions that the cravings are normal. Which was good to know because I thought they’d be worse in the first three weeks and would start to taper off. Instead, I think my body thought we were playing pretend or something and it’s now “really” wanting sugar. Cake. Chocolate. Slice. It’s not fussy really. Thankfully there’s nothing in the house really…. well, I could find something but I’m trying to be strong. I’m very determined when I want to be an so far I don’t look that much better to warrant a day off the wagon. I don’t know that I feel that much better either. Which is the first question people ask me. How do you feeeeeel? Not much different, sadly. I thought maybe I’ bounce out of bed with loads of energy to burn.  I think I feel pretty normal… but maybe it’s too early to tell. I did have a funny situation about two nights ago. My husband and I were lying on our sofa together reading when I got up to go have a shower and changing into lazing around the house clothes. When I returned to the sofa I had the strongest whiff of chocolate I’ve had in ages. I picked up his hands and brought them too my nose and smelt chocolate all over his fingers. ‘you’ve eaten chocolate,’ I exclaimed in a horrified voice. He laughed and said he’d raided the stash of cooking chocolate for a couple of pieces. Yes, we are desperate in our house. What was funniest for me was that I had smelt it. We have been...

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