By Renee Vincent (Guest Blogger)
Contemporary erotic romance from Turquoise Morning Press
Strange as it may sound, I plotted the entire story of Silent Partner in my head on the long drive home from French Lick Indiana, after signing my first contract with Turquoise Morning Press. I was so excited about signing my Emerald Isle Trilogy that my mind was going absolutely haywire, thinking of all kinds of great storylines that had been swimming in my head over the years. But this one, just seemed to plot itself. Before I got home, I had dropped by the cemetery to be with my sister and shared my amazing news with her. While I was there, I told her my story for Silent Partner. And in hearing it out loud, I knew it was another story, like my trilogy, that I simply had to write.
Blurb:
Grayson Anders has it all. He’s the co-owner of a happening nightclub in downtown Boston, he’s wealthy, and women practically throw themselves at his feet the moment he steps on the dance floor. But profiting from these obvious benefits is not his desire. His passion is dancing and he wants nothing more than to find the perfect dance partner.
Chloe LaRoche is a talented artist, but a failing entrepreneur. Her once thriving studio is now on the brink of foreclosure and unless she paints the next Van Gogh Starry Night, she’ll have to cut her losses and say goodbye to her quaint little gallery. Fearing her career is at an end, she drags herself to the local hotspot, determined to drown her worries in the bottom of a shot glass. At least that was the plan…until she lays eyes on a wickedly sexy, swarthy dancer in the club—Grayson Anders.
Unable to resist, Chloe finds herself in Grayson’s arms, indulging on a passionate, out-of-control, one night stand. And when both awaken the next morning, they are consumed with inspiration.
Grayson finds his perfect dance partner and Chloe finally finds her muse. But will her secret destroy both their dreams?
Excerpt:
“Ready to steal away to my humble abode?”
Chloe’s eyes flashed open and Mr. Gyration was but a few inches from her, holding two full shot glasses, one in each hand—the ones they had left at the bar. He stepped forward, his lower half pressing against her. “You’ll have to snag the keys out of my right pocket,” he suggested, glancing downward, “if you want that privacy. I’d do it myself, but my hands are full.”
On purpose, she’d bet.
By the way he wagged his brows and smiled at her, yeah, she knew it was on purpose. Come on, Chloe…where’s your sense of adventure? Reach into his tight leather pants and pull out his keys.
With another wave of heat flushing her face, she took a deep breath and lifted her hand, hesitating as her fingertips just breached the open seam of his pocket. She didn’t want to look at his face for she knew he was probably sporting that half-cocked grin that made her hot, and she was already sweltering with heat.
He bumped his hips toward her. “What are you going to do, sweet thing?” he teased. “Ball’s in your court…”
Little did he know his trifling dare was all she needed to shove her hand in his pocket and grip him in her fist.
His mouth flew open and his body shuddered from the bold contact. “…or in your hand.”
She countered him with an equally half-cocked smile, reveling in the feel of his strong erection filling her grasp. Indeed, he was as hard as stone, but no where near as passive as a motionless statue of marble. She felt him move against her, his pelvis jutting forward.
“Keys,” he reminded with a shiver.
Chloe reluctantly released him and fished for his keys. The pocket of his pants was deep but close-fitting, making it difficult for her not to graze him repeatedly in the process.
“You’re killing me, darlin’.”
On purpose, she elected inwardly.
Finally, she drew the ring of keys from his pants and held them up like a prize. She watched his shoulders relax as if he were relieved the torment on his body has ceased for the moment. But she didn’t plan to keep her hands off him for long. His body was too irresistible not to have thoughts of touching it, torturing him with sinful foreplay.
Yeah, running from Mr. Gyration was no longer an option; leaving him breathless, was.
He stepped back slightly and gestured with his eyes to a narrow corridor behind her to the right. “After you.”
With the keys to paradise in her hand, she slipped past him and started down the hallway, her knees shaking as she walked. They passed a couple, who obviously had no qualms about a public display of affection, passionately kissing and groping each other against the wall.
Visions of a secret room, where only V.I.P members could access came to mind. A place where everyone was freely having open sex — naked bodies draped everywhere and in all sorts of contorted positions. A swingers club.
No. That was not what she had in mind when it came to privacy and it certainly wasn’t what she was into. There was only one door down this hall, and she was not going any further.
She turned around, her face straight and definite in her decision.
He ignored her and sauntered up close, backing her into the very door in question, his drink-filled hands braced on either side of her. She should have felt trapped, scared. But it was the way he looked at her, the way his gaze fell over her face as though he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
She closed her eyes as he tucked his face beneath her jaw, his lips barely brushing against her neck. She knew he was whispering something for she could feel his warm breath bathing her skin, but she had no idea what he said. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her ears, the throbbing of her aching body giving her no reprieve.
His mouth was exquisite, suckling her sensitive neck with a practiced kiss, weakening her with every tender flick of his tongue.
God, what she wouldn’t give to feel that mouth on her body, in places that were tingling for his attention. She needed him. Needed his love if only for one night. And what would it hurt to succumb to this extraordinary moment, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be in the arms of a much desired man?
She deserved it. She had worked her whole life trying to be successful, trying to be prized and unique in the impressionistic world of art. For once, she felt special. She felt as if she were the only woman he craved and no other woman in the universe would do.
As if he felt her hesitation, he pulled back and looked her in the eye. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to force you upstairs to my apartment. You decide. Right here. Right now. But once you unlock this door…you’re mine. All night long…”
Bio: I am an author with a passionate interest in Irish and Norse history. I live in the rolling hills of Kentucky with my husband and two children on a beautiful secluded farm of horses and hay fields.
When I am not writing, I love to spend my time on the back of a horse, whether with my family or with my friends.
I am a sucker for a good cup of coffee (lots of cream and sugar...and whipped cream if I can get my hands on it), great conversation, and a lilting Irish accent. I love to read and I can't resist watching great epic historical movies.
You can visit me at my website: http://www.reneevincent.com and at my blog, Past The Print.
