Book Spotlight : Deacon - Cheryl Douglas
Title: Deacon
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 15th , 2015
Starkis Family #1 (Can be read as standalaone)
When
Deacon Starkis sets his sights on the gorgeous young model gracing
the pages of his glossy catalogue, he knows he has to have her. One
problem. She’s not available. But that won’t stop Deacon. He’s
a man used to getting what he wants and he wants Mia.
Mia
is stunned when she receives an email from the elusive billionaire
who owns the lingerie company she models for. He tells her he’s
intrigued. He’s not the only one. But she knows she’d be a fool
to throw away an eight year relationship for a brief affair with the
head honcho. He doesn’t do relationships and she doesn’t do
casual sex. It seems they’re at an impasse.
Who
will come out on top in this battle of wills? The dominant one or the
woman intent on teaching him the meaning of submission?
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TRAILER
I
stared at my reflection. “I don’t understand, Barbara. I thought
Eleni was supposed to be
modeling
the bridal collection.”
She
pinned the white bustier until my full breasts spilled over the top.
Then she artfully
arranged
the white sheer robe so it revealed just enough of her handiwork to
be enticing without
looking
trashy. “What the boss wants, the boss gets. Even if it means we
have to lose sleep to get
these
damn alterations done on time.”
“Remind
me to give you a raise, Barbara.”
I
turned so fast that the pin Barbara was holding jabbed me in the
thigh, but I barely noticed.
It
was him. Oh
God. I couldn’t breathe. I was going to pass out right there.
“Mr.
Starkis,” Barbara said, a blush stealing over her cheeks. “I’m
so sorry. I didn’t hear you
come
in.”
“I’d
like a moment alone with Miss Barnes, Barbara.” He gave her a
pointed stare before he
said,
“I’ll try not to keep her too long. I understand you’re on a
tight schedule.”
She
lowered her head before gathering her measuring tape and pins. “No
problem, take all
the
time you need.”
He
waited until Barbara had closed the door and we were alone before he
whispered, “Theia,
you
look breathtaking.”
I
still didn’t know what theia
meant,
and I was beyond irritated to be meeting him under
these
circumstances, especially armed with the knowledge about his penchant
for young models.
Closing
the gap in the sheer robe, I tried to stare him down, but it wasn’t
easy. Even
standing
on a pedestal and wearing four-inch heels, I was still slightly
shorter than he was.
“We
meet at last.” He stepped closer and ran a fingertip over my cheek.
“You’re even more
beautiful
in person than I imagined you would be.”
His
accent was more pronounced than it had been over the phone and sent
delicious chills up
my
spine in spite of my annoyance at my body’s betrayal.
His
bright blue eyes flashed with irritation. “You are annoyed with me.
Again?”
“I’m
not having this conversation here.” I looked around, wondering if
he’d seduced other
women
in that very room. “I’m working. Kindly leave.”
His
irritation blossomed into anger. “I own this goddamn building. No
one tells me when to
leave.”
Oh.
Feeling
properly chastised, I did the only thing I could. I turned away from
him and
fixed
all my attention on the mirror in front of me.
He
walked around me in a slow circle, his hand rubbing the dark stubble
on his square jaw.
“Mmmm,
this looks even better than I imagined it would. It’s so easy to
imagine unwrapping
you
on our wedding night.”
When one door closes, another one
opens. I closed the door to my business for the last time in 2011,
which left me with a decision. What now? Find another location and
move my nutrition business, go to work for someone else, or take a
chance on my dream? I chose the latter and I’ve never looked
back!
I’ve always loved reading and writing, but it wasn’t until I jumped in with both feet and decided writing would be my career, instead of just a hobby, that my muse woke up from her deep slumber.
It was like someone flipped a switch
inside my head and stories just came pouring out. At the end of the
day, I would often look at the keyboard and wonder, ‘Who the heck
wrote that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me!’
I don’t write books. I tell stories,
or rather, I allow my characters to tell their stories through me.
I’m not a plotter, never have been, never will be. Why? Because I
have no idea how the story will evolve and it’s not my place to
manipulate it. My job is to get to know these characters, figure out
what makes them tick, then follow their journey wherever it takes me.
When I’m not
writing, I’m daydreaming. Thankfully, I have an understanding
husband and son who know I’ll re-join the land of the living just
as soon as my muse decides it’s quitting time. I don’t work for
myself. I work for her. She’s the boss. And I’m okay with that.
Website: http://cheryldouglasbooks.com
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