The daisy, the flower of April, is a lovely, sweet, delicate
flower, simplifying the innocence of youth and simplicity. Daisy Kerr is still
youthful and enjoys the simplicities of life. Until her trusting nature blows
her life apart.
Daisy
Kerr’s life has reached the edge of the cliff and fallen off. Her so-called
fiancé Craig Myers has embezzled millions from the investment firm where they
both work and left her holding the bag. The FBI thinks she’s somehow involved,
she’s been fired from her job and the condo she lives in belongs to Craig.
Heartsick and depressed, she decides to use the tickets Craig had bought for
their trip to Mardi Gras and see if she can “Let eh good times roll” in New
Orleans. For a few days she can party and forget about her troubles. Maybe even
meet a sexy Cajun man to take her mind of her troubles. A fling sounds really
good to her right about now
Leaving
the airport she meets Marc Doucet, a Louisiana native now living in New York.
He tells her he’s in town on business but he’d love to show her the ropes of
Mardi Gras. And a whole lot more. It’s not long before he’s really putting some
Cajun spice in her life and then some. Sex had never been so good or made her
feel so special. Maybe they might even see each other back in New York if she
can straighten out the mess her life is.
But what
Daisy doesn’t know is Marc is an FBI agent sent to ferret out any knowledge she
might have of Craig’s scheme. His plan was to romance her, until romance landed
in their laps for real. When Daisy overhears him in a phone conversation with
his boss she feels betrayed once again and can’t get out of town fast enough.
It will take a grand gesture on Marc’s part to get past the new walls around
her heart and convince her what they have is real.
Excerpt:
First order of business,
however, was to cab to the hotel, change into something comfortable and wander
through the French Quarter. The curb was jammed with people there to celebrate
Mardi Gras. Daisy managed to squeeze herself into a space and waited for the
next taxi in line to roll up to her.
“Royal Orleans Hotel,”
she told the driver as he got out to grab her suitcase.
“Mind if we share the
ride, chere?” The voice behind her
was deep and hot, rolling over her like warm melted chocolate.
Daisy turned to see who
it was and there he was, as if she’d conjured him up. Her spicy Cajun male.
Sexy for sure, he was tall and lean, with a thick shock of black hair and
startling blue eyes. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Uh, excuse me, chere. Do you still want the cab?”
“What? Oh!” She realized
she was standing there like an idiot. “Oh, yes.”
“Well, I heard you say
you were goin’ to the Montmartre Hotel. So happens I’m goin’ there myself.
Think we can share a ride?”
Maybe this was just what
she needed, a ride with a man who oozed sex appeal and could take her mind off
her troubles for a while. She wished for him, right? No sensed letting Craig
ruin any more of her life, at least as far as this trip went.
She gave herself a mental
shake. “I’d love to share a cab with you.”
“Great. Great.” He held
the cab door for her, waited for her to slide in and settled himself beside
her.
God, he smelled so good.
She took a surreptitious sniff. Pachouli! Wow. She hadn’t smelled that in a
very long time. Nerve endings blunted by the shock of her situation suddenly
snapped and sizzled to life. She took a deep breath, the fragrance of Pachouli
teasing her senses even more, and did her best to compose herself.
“Don’t usually see
beautiful ladies heading for Mardi Gras alone.” The smooth-as-bourbon voice
slid over her and snagged her attention.
She glanced over at him,
which was nearly her undoing. The look in those deep blue eyes nearly melted
her panties.
“Excuse me?”
He grinned, a twist of
his lips that was almost lethal. “I was just remarkin’ I’m surprised that
someone as gorgeous as you is hitting Mardi Gras by yourself.”
Should she tell him? Why
not? She’d never seen him again. And she didn’t have to give him Craig’s name.
It was already in all the media but thankfully, without hers being linked to
it.
“I, um, had a fiancé who
was supposed to go with me but he’s in the wind.” She lifted her shoulders in
what she hoped was a casual shrug.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I
can hardly believe any man in his right man would walk out on you.”
“Yeah, well, it happened.
That and a lot more.” She forced a smile. “Anyway, hasn’t anyone ever told you
that pickup line is pretty outdated?”
He laughed, a deep.
Sensual sound. “I guess it is, but in this case I mean it.” She could feel his
gaze raking over her. “Did he run off with another woman?” Marc shook his head.
“I find that even harder to believe.”
“Worse than that. I
discovered—Never mind. I really don’t want to talk about it. I decided to enjoy
the holiday anyway. I’m sure I can find plenty of people to celebrate with.”
Pretty bold there, Daisy girl.
Maybe it was time for
some bold on her part. She’d allowed herself to be Craig’s shadow for too long
and look where that had gotten her.
“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble. This
your first Mardi Gras?”
“It is, and I’m going to
do my best to enjoy every minute of it.”
“Well, then, let me give
you a little rundown on what to expect and how to enjoy it the most.”
His voice was musical and
soothing, rubbing smooth the raw edges of her anger. She was startled by the instant
connection that zapped between them and wondered if he felt it, too. She kept
glancing over at his very sexy face, rewarded each time with a smile that
jumped her thermostat. At thirty-five she’d meet a lot of very interesting men,
been involved with a few, but none of them had ever zapped her this way. Was it
just a reaction of Craig’s betrayal, or—
No. She wouldn’t go
there. Anyway, maybe he was just being
polite. Still, a girl could hope. As they chatted he shifted slightly on the
seat and his thigh came into contact with hers. Blazing heat surged through her
body from the point of contact, making her more acutely aware of the man
sitting next to her.
“By the way,” he went on,
“my name’s Marc. Marc Doucet.” He held out his hand.
When Daisy took it she
felt the same surge of heat as when his thigh touched hers. The way Marc’s eyes
widened just a bit she could tell he felt it, too.
Ohmigod!
“Daisy Karr,” she told
him, moistening her lips. “Um, is Doucet Cajun? Are you from here?”
He winked at her. “Guar-on-tee
it. Born and bred.”
“But you don’t live
around here now?” she asked.
“No, sorry to say. I had
to relocate for work.”
“Oh.” She paused. “What
kind of work to do you?”
“Nothing that would
interest you. I promise. Dull business stuff.”
Okay, then. She didn’t
want to hear about it. She didn’t want to think about the business world at all
for the next few days.
“Are you meeting someone here for Mardi Gras?”
Damn! Did that just come out of her mouth? It was none of her business. Except,
lordy, he was so freakin’ hot.
“Not really. I have a
little bit of business to attend to so I thought I’d combine it with some
celebratin’.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” He
probably had some hot sexy woman waiting for him. Men like him never lacked for
female companionship. Daisy had seen enough of them in her life.
I love being the world’s
oldest living active erotic romance author and excited that
USA Today referred to me as
“the Nora Roberts of erotic romance.” I have more than 160 titles released in
multiple subgenres, everything from paranormal to action/adventure to
contemporary romance. But they all have one thing in common: five-alarm heat.
I have drawn on my
background in the music industry for such stories as Downstroke, Having It All, Joy Ride and Aftershock. My BDSM
research has produced books such as Beyond
Addiction, Schooled By a Master and Double
Entry. But they almost all have one thing in common—the hot cowboys for
which I’m known.
I was a three-time finalist
for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014 for Collision Course), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice
Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance
Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of
the Holt Medallion, multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award,
the Love Romances Café Readers choice Award and is published by five different
houses.
I have been lucky enough to
be featured on CBS Sunday Morning and
in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The London Daily
Mail and numerous other national and international publications.
Learn more about me and my
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3 comments:
Another great excerpt, Desiree! :)
Wonderful cover and excerpt. I love seeing you each year at WWW and learning the business from such a great person.
Surely this is another winner! I'd challenge you on being the world's oldest erotic writer but then I'd have to tell how old I am!
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