Title: Braid of Tongues
Author: Monica David
Series: Braids Series (#1)
Genre: Erotic Romance
Publisher: Self-Published
Release Date: May 27 2015
Edition/Formats: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
What if your perfectly contented life was
suddenly turned upside down and you were forced to face a decision you never
imagined you’d have to?
Ariane Reis has a husband who loves her, a young son and a cosy family routine.
When she starts a new job in the heart of London, she has no idea she is about to embark on a scorching sensory journey of eroticism and self-discovery that will irrevocably alter her life.
Luka Volkov is a smart and unnervingly intense Russian on her team. He is young, sharp and insatiable. He doesn’t just seduce her body. He seduces her mind and the very essence of her being.
Despite the emotional angst she finds herself in, Ariane must fight to get through the impossible task of untangling love from lust, or risk losing everything she holds dear. The problem is - not everything is black and white.
Ariane Reis has a husband who loves her, a young son and a cosy family routine.
When she starts a new job in the heart of London, she has no idea she is about to embark on a scorching sensory journey of eroticism and self-discovery that will irrevocably alter her life.
Luka Volkov is a smart and unnervingly intense Russian on her team. He is young, sharp and insatiable. He doesn’t just seduce her body. He seduces her mind and the very essence of her being.
Despite the emotional angst she finds herself in, Ariane must fight to get through the impossible task of untangling love from lust, or risk losing everything she holds dear. The problem is - not everything is black and white.
A
story both delightful and heartbreaking about regular people in unanticipated
circumstances.
~ * ~
Excerpt:
As fast as I can, I get inside the cottage.
It’s dark, but the outside light shining through the window is enough. I go
around the sofa towards the three doors, giggling away. No harm done. Maybe
Olivia is olfactory impaired and didn’t notice I stink of weed.
I open a door. Merda. This is somebody’s
room. Giggle Giggle Giggle. I close the door as quietly as possible and go over
to the second door. Merda. Another room. I shake my head and turn the handle of
the third door. It’s locked. I must be stoned out of my head. Where’s the door
to the corridor that leads to the stairs? I look around and spot a stairway on
the other side of the lounge. That must be it.
A door unlocks and opens unexpectedly
behind me and my body jerks towards it, startled.
The sight takes a while to register.
Standing in the doorway, lit from behind, is Luka, wearing nothing but a white
towel around his hips. I turn every possible shade of red.
“Oh Merda! Sorry! ...”
He looks as taken aback as I am. Is he in
the wrong cottage? Am I? Of course I am, I’m stoned and in a boys cottage with
an almost naked Russian.
His chest is hairier than I imagined, but
not like a Latin man, tidier, and he is surprisingly toned. My eyes glue
themselves onto the V line, below his belly button, the shadows playing with
his muscles. I can’t move.
“Hello, Ariane,” at last he whispers.
I close my mouth and swallow.
“Er. Hello. I’m so sorry. I’m in the ... I
must be in the wrong house.”
I turn to leave and hit an armchair.
“Merda. Sorry.” My linguistic prowess is
sure to impress him. He has a decidedly thrilled expression.
“Don’t go,” he whispers.
What?
“What?”
He closes the distance between us. Oh dear
lord. I’m nailed to the floor. My attention drifts back to the V that
disappears into the towel, and I curse the terrible lighting. He stops mere
inches away and his freshly showered scent reaches me.
“Have you been smoking?”
Shit.
I take a half step back.
“No. I ... Me and ... I bumped into a few
people ... they offered me some. No big deal.”
“I see.”
My entire body responds to his proximity as
surely as if he were touching me. But Luka doesn’t touch me. Instead he
murmurs, “Look at me, Ariane.”
And it is then, tilting my head upwards,
that I lose my eyes in the shadowy blur of his. I have to go to my room. I have
to turn around and get out of here. Except that I’m frozen to the spot.
My mind reels with thoughts forming and
thoughts fleeing and thoughts conflicting and thoughts merging and I don’t know
if it is because of the wine, the joints, or the incredibly handsome man before
me, but I have cravings in me, so sweet, so brutal that I suddenly hear my own
voice whispering, “Please ...”
Author Information:
Monica David was born in Zimbabwe but she grew up in Portugal, by the sea. She has been living in London for nearly two decades, initially on and off in between travels and now permanently with her family. In addition to writing, Monica loves to read, photograph and travel. She values kindness, honesty and a good sense of humour.
Author Links:
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Amazon Author Page US
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ReplyDeleteMy pleasure :)
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