Here's the yummy blurb and excerpt (Warning - X-rated):
“All you have to do is disguise yourself, pretend to be me, go to India and meet the man I’m supposed to marry. By the time he realizes you’re not me, I’ll have already eloped…”
After a break up with her boyfriend, Haley Kent agrees to her best friend, Anjali’s madcap plan, hoping mystical India will help her find inner peace. Instead Anjali’s arranged future husband turns out to be a gorgeous Indian God with a touch that scorches.
Rajeev Yuvaraj refuses to be outsmarted by the sexy, blonde, blue-eyed American and devises his own retribution. A bride is what he expected and a bride is what he would get even if it meant handcuffing Haley to his wrist during the marriage ceremony.
But when Haley discovers the true nature of his secret scheme, can Rajeev seduce her back into his arms again?
Excerpt:
“Any luck?”
Haley spun around, her breath freezing as she took in the man standing in the center of the room. He had removed his bridegroom clothes and wore only a pair of black silk drawstring sleeping pants. Her eyes grazed over his golden skin and followed the contours of his wide shoulders, deep collar bones, angles, planes and sinewy muscles of his chest and abdomen and lower to the impressive bulge in his pants.
She ignored the need to rake her fingers through his midnight blue hair, denying the need to know if it felt as soft as it looked. She refused to be mesmerized by his aphrodisiac hazel eyes, veiled with the thickest, silkiest, and darkest eyelashes. She had no desire for him to drag her beneath his body while his beautifully chiseled lips skimmed her skin. She swallowed uncomfortably. Then why were those thoughts rampant in her head? It must be the air.
“Gandhi would have turned the other cheek.”
“I am hardly as saintly.” His eyes roved the length of her body, lazily outlining her nakedness beneath the negligee. She held her breath as his blazing gaze scorched the delicate red lace scarcely concealing her breasts. Her nipples swelled in supplication. He glanced back up at her, daring to her react. Haley barely resisted the overwhelming urge to offer them up to him.
She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes and hoped for a show of indifference. He licked his sensual lips and her indifference faltered. Even tightening her legs failed to prevent the drizzle of cream seeping onto her thighs.
“Have you ever been cuffed and fucked before, Haley?” he drawled, leaning onto a marble desk, nonchalantly twirling the set of satin-covered handcuffs in his long, toffee-colored fingers. The very handcuffs she wore to her wedding.
Haley spun around, her breath freezing as she took in the man standing in the center of the room. He had removed his bridegroom clothes and wore only a pair of black silk drawstring sleeping pants. Her eyes grazed over his golden skin and followed the contours of his wide shoulders, deep collar bones, angles, planes and sinewy muscles of his chest and abdomen and lower to the impressive bulge in his pants.
She ignored the need to rake her fingers through his midnight blue hair, denying the need to know if it felt as soft as it looked. She refused to be mesmerized by his aphrodisiac hazel eyes, veiled with the thickest, silkiest, and darkest eyelashes. She had no desire for him to drag her beneath his body while his beautifully chiseled lips skimmed her skin. She swallowed uncomfortably. Then why were those thoughts rampant in her head? It must be the air.
“Gandhi would have turned the other cheek.”
“I am hardly as saintly.” His eyes roved the length of her body, lazily outlining her nakedness beneath the negligee. She held her breath as his blazing gaze scorched the delicate red lace scarcely concealing her breasts. Her nipples swelled in supplication. He glanced back up at her, daring to her react. Haley barely resisted the overwhelming urge to offer them up to him.
She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes and hoped for a show of indifference. He licked his sensual lips and her indifference faltered. Even tightening her legs failed to prevent the drizzle of cream seeping onto her thighs.
“Have you ever been cuffed and fucked before, Haley?” he drawled, leaning onto a marble desk, nonchalantly twirling the set of satin-covered handcuffs in his long, toffee-colored fingers. The very handcuffs she wore to her wedding.
Sounds delicious, doesn't it? It's supposed to be a very hot weekend here in the Northeast, so I'll be ready to read this scorcher with my fan nearby. ;)
Here's the link to TWRP's Wilder Roses' homepage, where Intrigue In India should be up bright and early on Friday.
Happy weekend and mega congrats to April!
One last note: Because I'm completely ditzy, I almost forgot that I'm blogging with the awesome Rebecca J. Clark, a fellow TWRP author, on Friday at Once Written, Twice Shy. My topic is how the shy writer can maximize their exposure on Twitter, including my own experience of meeting my EC editor there. I'd love it if you stopped by!
2 comments:
Cari, thank you so much :) I hope you enjoy Intrigue in India.
P.S. I devoured bags of chocolate for breakfast this morning and stunned my seven year old son with my messy face and sticky fingers. 'Mum, you shouldn't be eating chocolate so early in the morning." To which I replied. "It's okay, baby, mummy's got a book release today." : )
Thanks again. Truly appreciated. And how forward am I looking to next Friday for some Ex Appeal!
I hope you enjoy Intrigue in India.
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