A Novel Way to Die Blitz

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Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series, Book 2
Cozy Mystery
Date Published: March 5, 2020
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Sawyer Davis, a chef who inherited her mother’s mystery bookshop, is hosting her first book signing for the world’s biggest diva. Between juggling the author’s lofty demands, learning how to be a surrogate mother to a fifteen-year-old, and dealing with the Sheriff who once broke her heart, Sawyer’s menu is full. She longs for the good old days when the worst thing that happened was a flopped soufflé.
But when the author’s husband ends up dead in Sawyer’s best friend, Renee’s, ice cream shop, things really heat up. Sawyer believes her friend is being framed. With the help of her book club members and her adorable goldendoodle, Sawyer sets out to save Renee. Will Sawyer and her friends help serve up justice on a platter, or will they all find themselves in a pickle?
Other Books in the Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series:
Plotting for Murder
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Plotting for Murder
Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series, Book 1
Release Date: March 14, 2019
Sawyer Davis’ new life in picturesque Sunset Cove is crumbling around her as fast as the old Victorian house she lives in. She’s a chef whose matchmaking mother has left her a puppy, a bevy of single men to choose from, and a bookshop dedicated to whodunnits. Complete with a book club of amateur sleuths who live for death. When one of the members dies just after eating Sawyer’s amazing truffle mac and cheese, Sawyer is immersed in an even bigger soup pot of trouble.
With her chef’s reputation on the line, and an uncle after her inheritance, Sawyer teams up with the sheriff who once broke her heart—whether he wants her help or not—to solve the mystery. Will past hurts, and long-buried attraction for the sheriff stand in the way of solving the crime before the murderer strikes again?
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About the Author
Tamra Baumann is an award-winning author of light-hearted contemporary romance and cozy mystery. A reality-show junkie, she justifies her addiction by telling others she’s scouting for potential character material. She adamantly denies she’s actually living vicariously in their closets. Tamra resides with her real-life characters—her husband, kids, and their adorable goldendoodle in the sunny Southwest.
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Black Light: Brave Cover Reveal

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Black Light: Brave (Black Light #16)
By Maren Smith
Published by Black Collar Press
Release Date: March 11, 2020
Cover Reveal: March 4, 2020
Cover Design by: Eris Adderly
Go Live Price: 4.99
Genre: Contemporary BDSM

 

It started with Piggy. It escalated with Kitty. It ends with Puppy. 

 

For almost a year, Ethen O’Dowell has been locked behind bars and yet Puppy is far from free. A legal ward of her parents, she shares her bedroom with Pony, the only part of her old, submissive life that she has left… apart from the guilt, the fear, and the weekly punishments Ethen dishes out every time they visit him. Escape is all Puppy dreams about. Escape and somehow finding the courage to once more become the person she used to be–someone who lived life on her own terms and never let herself be afraid. Sadly, those days are long over, and as the old saying goes, there’s just no getting them back again. Or is there?

It’s a dead night at Black Light when ex-military man Carlson Garvey decides all he wants is a quiet drink and some downtime to practice his Shibari. What he isn’t expecting is the petite brunette who plops down at his table, squeaks out a terrified hello, and promptly flees again. There’s a story here and although he doesn’t know it, Carlson doesn’t need to. He recognizes a broken soul when he sees one.

Sometimes the only thing a broken person needs is the right Dom willing to intervene.

 

 

Excerpt

“Do you want me to stop?” he repeated himself.
Heaven help her.
“N-no, Sir,” she gasped.
Tipping his head, slowly he said, “Don’t call me that again. Not unless you want me to take that role. It’s Carlson. Just Carlson. Do you understand?”
God, why couldn’t she have found someone like this instead of Ethen all those years ago?
Let go, she told her hands. If she let go of, then eventually Carlson would too. They’d untwine. Their time here would end and who knows if he’d ever invite her to sit with him again, because she was inappropriate and messed up, and God, but she just couldn’t make her fingers release him. Not anymore than she could make herself stop trembling, or blink back the rush of her tears now spilling freely down her cheeks.
And yet the worst was still to come, because when she opened her mouth to apologize, what came pouring out was every bit as unstoppable as those awful burning tears.
“I’m not allowed to leave the house, so I sit in the tub. I lost my job a year ago, and now I live with my mother. If I tried to get my coat, Pony wouldn’t have let me come tonight and I had to get out of there. I had to! He’s punishing us again, because of me, and I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry. Please.” She needed to let him go, and yet her fists only tightened their grip on the sleeves of his shirt. “Please, Sir, don’t stop.”
She didn’t sound sane, even to herself. That he didn’t immediately dump her off his lap, with an appalled, ‘Jesus, lady,’ as he quickly walked away, would forever be a miracle in her mind.
“I told you not to call me that.” But instead of pushing her away, Carlson pulled her closer, embracing her with the kind of strength she only wished she had.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
“Maybe, but probably only half as sorry as you’re going to be. This isn’t the way it’s done,” he said, holding her tight. “You want a sir? Well, you’ve got one now.”

 

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Black Light Series Information:

Season One:

Infamous Love – A Black Light Prequel – https://amzn.to/2IQrasz

Black Light: Rocked – https://amzn.to/2Jd2Q3s

Black Light: Exposed – https://amzn.to/2xhyPe2

Black Light: Valentine Roulette – https://amzn.to/2Ja8pQ5

Black Light: Suspended – https://amzn.to/2KY6RpK

Black Light: Cuffed – https://amzn.to/2JeSUXj

Black Light: Rescued – https://amzn.to/2ITfLEn

Season Two:

Black Light: Roulette Redux – https://amzn.to/2ktoYZf

Complicated Love – https://amzn.to/2y8zPOK

Black Light: Suspicion – https://amzn.to/2xWYXca

Black Light: Obsessed –  https://amzn.to/2ynYaku

Black Light: Fearless – https://amzn.to/2ryTrIU

Black Light: Possession – https://amzn.to/2TnvLI2

Season Three:

Black Light: Celebrity Roulette – https://amzn.to/2Hi0kr4

Black Light: Purged – A Black Light Short –  https://amzn.to/2GDiaDe

Black Light: Defended – https://amzn.to/2kM8AqK

Black Light: Scandalized – https://amzn.to/2W4030f

Season Four:

Black Light: Roulette War – https://amzn.to/389aGEd

 

Author Bio and Contact Info:

Maren Smith:

Fortunate enough to live with my Daddy Dom, I am a Little, coffee whore, pain slut, administrator at two of my local BDSM dungeons, resident of the wilds of freakin’ Kansas (still don’t know how I ended up here) and submissive to the love of my life. An International and USA Bestselling Author, I have penned more than 150 novels, novellas and short stories, and am the author of the Masters of the Castle series.

I also write under the names of Denise Hall, Darla Phelps, and Penny Alley.

Visit Maren Smith’s blog here: https://badgirlscorner.blog

Friend me on Facebook here: https://facebook.com/Maren.Smith.10

Follow me on Twitter: @authmarensmith

Friend me on Instagram: maren_smith

Follow on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/maren-smith

Visit me on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authormarensmith

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Once in a Black Moon Tour

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Once in a Black Moon coverParanormal/Fantasy Time-Travel Romance
Date Published: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Ink & Magick
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Chicago journalist Erin Nichols isn’t about to give up when she’s fired for writing an exposé. But when a combination of murder, magic, and celestial events transports her through time and space to 1900 western Canada, city hall corruption becomes the least of her worries.
But the past isn’t any safer. Awaking to learn she may be the victim of some unknown crime, Erin takes shelter with the local Mountie—the picture of upright Canadian fortitude. As tragedy stalks the nearby First Nation reserve, Erin learns from a Romanian mystic that magic is dying, and the fae are turning to their darker natures to survive.
While the reserved and sexy Mountie helps her navigate a time in which she doesn’t belong, the mysterious and seductive conjurer helps her try to find a way home. As they alight feelings and desires Erin never knew she was capable of, she begins to wonder where she truly belongs.
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EXCERPT

I was frozen in place, not daring to move. That can’t be right. No way. Dragons aren’t real. I must have misinterpreted something else. 

Then, I heard a song on the wind. The mellow baritone seemed familiar in a way I couldn’t place. Following after the man and the maybe-dragon felt like the stupidest thing I’d ever done, but that was the direction the song beckoned me, and I wasn’t about to quell the curiosity that crept over me.

At the edge of the tree line, I momentarily worried if there were bears. I laughed at myself, shaking my head in disbelief of my own thoughts. Really, Erin? You’re walking toward a dragon, and you’re worried about bears?

As I got closer, I realized the song was in a language I didn’t understand. Eventually, I came upon two men sitting by a fire. The dragon was nowhere in sight. I knew I wasn’t seeing right. 

The man with crimson hair stopped singing and I froze; my mouth hung open when they both looked up at me. They were devastatingly gorgeous. Otherworldly. Ethereal. The kind of beauty no man had a right to. I blinked stupidly at them.

The man with raven-black hair and eyes that glinted gold in the firelight moved toward me and took my hand. I shivered as he kissed my fingers. And when he stared into my eyes, his eyes glowed the same color that the dragon’s forehead had. His gaze surrounded me, penetrated me, engulfed me. As he smiled seductively, I started to lose myself in his presence. The world around me blurred, and everything but him drifted from my mind.

“Grigore, that is enough,” the other man chided in an eastern European accent.

Grigore clicked his tongue and moved away from me.

About the Author

D. writes stories she wants to read. Her love of the worlds of fiction led her to earn a Bachelor’s in English from Wright State University.
When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s probably hiking, crafting, watching anime, Korean television, Bollywood, or old movies. She may also be getting her geek on while planning her next steampunk cosplay with friends.
She lives in Wisconsin with her husband (John) and cats (Yin and Nox).
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A Man Devoured by His Body, Food & Work -TOUR

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Non-Fiction / Self-Help / Eating Disorders & Body Image
Date Published: January 15, 2020
Publisher: CS Publishing Ltd.
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For 40-plus years the author battled with attitudes, beliefs and behaviors that are commonly labeled as symptoms of three psychological disorders: muscle dysmorphia, orthorexia, and obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD). The consequences were grave. This book explains Stuart’s struggles and self-inquiry, and then describes the five elements of his psychological healing. Each element helped him, but their synergism profoundly improved his mental health, his relationships, his physical health, and his overall life. 


 This book isn’t targeted only at male bodybuilders and other exercise enthusiasts. The great difficulties Stuart dealt with are experienced by millions of men and women who struggle with their body-image and/or eating, and/or who are tormented by perfectionism or workaholism. His success story may inspire any of those people to start their own self-inquiries that lead to their own success stories.
A Man Devoured by His Body, Food & Work book on table

 

EXCERPT

Copyright © 2020 by Stuart McRobert. All rights reserved.

Introduction to 

A MAN DEVOURED BY HIS BODY, FOOD & WORK: Survival from Muscle Dysmorphia, Orthorexia, and Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder

by Stuart McRobert

This is Stuart. For over 40 years I battled with attitudes, beliefs and behaviors that are commonly labeled as “symptoms” of three so-called psychological disorders—muscle dysmorphia, orthorexia, and obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD). My struggles started in earnest when I was 15 years old, in 1973.

No matter what improvement I made to my physique, it dissatisfied me even though many men envied it and many women admired it. 

My training and my eating obsessed me, but even that intense dedication to bodybuilding didn’t yield the great physique I craved. 

My “mental turmoil and struggles,” or “mental torment”—which is how I term my psychological problems—had profoundly negative effects on my life. I wasn’t dealing with minor personality quirks. The severity of my problems increased through the 1970s and ‘80s—from my early teens through my twenties. But I never thought there may be something wrong with my mental health. 

That I considered suicide during the 1990s and early 2000s should have made me seek help. But I considered seeking help to be weakness. I needed to “man up,” “pull myself together,” “be grateful for the good things in my life,” and “get a sense of perspective.” Those shame-based clichés were first inflicted on me during my upbringing, but didn’t help. 

But I had an amazing external life during my decades of mental torment. Here are just some of the riches that couldn’t make me happy: Since the 1980s I’ve lived on a Mediterranean island that has a wonderful climate, and I have a supportive wife and two children. We’ve long been well-off, have had a luxury home in the capital since 1997, and a villa near the coast since 2002. I’ve long worked for myself from a home office, with autonomy, and I’ve had success as a writer and a publisher.

I had a laser focus on my external life—my body (and training it), my eating, where I lived, my family, my work, and so on. But that focus exacerbated the problems I had with my mental health (or internal life).

My long-suffering wife endured the effects on her from my mental torment, but our marriage was tempestuous for three decades. It caused us endless conflict and unhappiness.

The scrambling of my brain during the 40-plus years before I started therapy “stole my happiness,” my therapist told me later.

Finally, in September 2015, when I was 56 years old, I admitted something was profoundly wrong with me. My initial investigation—through the mainstream or “medical model”—revealed I had two sets of so-called symptoms that supposedly conformed with two so-called psychological diagnoses: muscle dysmorphia, and orthorexia. They were soon followed by the discovery of a third set of “symptoms” (including so-called perfectionism and workaholism), which supposedly conformed with the diagnosis of so-called obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. I’d had those three sets of “symptoms” for over 40 years. According to that medical perspective, I’d been mentally ill since I was a teenager.

My initial investigation followed the medical perspective. During that investigation I took responsibility for my mental health problems and their consequences. The “diagnoses” motivated me to seek help. (Often, though, distressing diagnoses make people fearful of seeking help.) My therapy started in January 2016. It gave me an alternative perspective on my “mental illness”—a “non-medical model,” to use my therapist’s term. 

My therapist is Christina Sorokou. In this book I refer to her as Ms. C. 

As reference points, here are summaries of two of the “diagnoses” of my so-called mental illness: “muscle dysmorphia” and “orthorexia.”

“Muscle dysmorphia” (“MD”) is characterized by a negative body image and an obsessive desire for a muscular physique. It’s also called “muscle-dysmorphic disorder.” It’s common among bodybuilders and strength trainees. To quote someone I know, “I’ve seen men built like Superman weep over this issue.” It usually affects men, but can also affect women. Not all bodybuilders and strength trainees are affected.

Bodybuilders with “symptoms” of “muscle dysmorphia” seem especially prone to also have “symptoms” of “orthorexia.” But bodybuilders who don’t have “MD” “symptoms” may still have eating habits indicative of “orthorexia.” “Orthorexia” is an unhealthy relationship with healthy foods. It’s a fixation with eating “healthfully” as defined by the sufferer, with a very strong belief in the correctness of it. Some “orthorexics” suffer severe weight loss that gives the impression they have “anorexia nervosa.” I was one of them during some of the 1980s.

The majority of people with “symptoms” of “orthorexia” also seem to be exercise enthusiasts. Weight training, running and yoga are common examples. Exercise may be as big a focus of their lives as eating, and derived from the same motivations. That’s how it was for me.

“Muscle dysmorphia” commonly leads to self-obsession, dismay with one’s body no matter how much improvement is made, neglect of one’s education and career, relationship difficulties, discomfort with social settings, family problems, health issues, and perhaps the use of bodybuilding drugs. I endured all those effects except the drugs.

It’s particularly the severe manifestation of “muscle dysmorphia” that leads to the use of bodybuilding drugs, the inability to see the consequences of self-abusive behavior, and even suicide.

“Orthorexia” also commonly leads to self-obsession, neglect of one’s education and career, relationship difficulties, discomfort with social settings, family problems, and health issues. It also leads to an obsession with one’s eating, and perhaps contempt for those who don’t follow the same dietary dictates. I endured all of those effects.

The root causes of my “symptoms” of what could be medically labeled as three “mental disorders” were threefold. First, the instructions in some of my genes—my nature. Second, my upbringing and socialization, and their shaming effects—my nurture. And third, some behaviors I chose in response to my nature and my nurture. Different “symptoms” and behaviors arise in other people from their particular wellsprings.

According to the World Health Organization, psychological problems are one of the leading causes of ill-health and disability. Mental health seems to be the most important determinant of individual happiness in developed countries. Many millions of people seek comfort through smoking, alcohol, other drugs, overeating, unhealthy food, work, gambling, or other addictive behaviors. Many of them attempt suicide.

And many businesses exploit those who seek comfort through eating, smoking, drinking, or gambling, for example. There’s an urgent need for measures to prevent that exploitation. Teens and young adults need the greatest protection because their brains are especially vulnerable to addictions. Most adults with substance-abuse problems and addictions started smoking, drinking or using other drugs before they were 18.

Furthermore, the addictiveness of a 24/7 internet connection, social media platforms, and many other websites, may have a corrosive effect on the mental health of users.

The first major impediment to therapy for my mental torment was my reluctance to admit having problems. The second major impediment was my unwillingness to take action to help myself. I required 40-plus years before I overcame those impediments.

Men are less likely to admit to mental health problems than women. And men are also less likely to take action to help themselves. Women outnumber men among therapy and counseling clients.

With the right therapy, those with mental health problems can cope and lead rewarding lives. I experienced the therapy myself with great success. But it had nothing to do with psychiatric drugs and institutions. (I’ve never taken psychiatric drugs, and nor was I ever prescribed any.) There were five elements of my overall therapy and healing. The first was talk therapy with a properly trained and licensed therapist. This book includes my session notes—a real-life case study. What I learned from some influential books led to three other elements of my overall therapy and healing. And the self-therapy from writing this book—writing therapy, or expressive therapy, or writing cure—was another element that contributed to my overall progress.

I was (and still am) a highly involved participant in my overall therapy. My self-inquiry produced self-awareness, self-knowledge, self-understanding and healing, which enabled me to take true control of myself.

This book details the five elements of my psychological self-care. Each helped me, but their synergism profoundly changed me for the better. 

My journey may especially resonate with readers who have problems related to body-image issues, food, or “perfectionism” and/or “workaholism.” Of course, each reader has travelled a unique path with a particular background, which I can never know. But perhaps through reading my story, readers may be inspired to start their own self-inquiries that bring about their own realizations, self-awareness, self-knowledge, self-understanding, and healing. The particular process that worked for me may not work for others, but my story may help others find the processes that work for them.

I’m writing primarily to men, including young men in their teens. But many women also have mental health problems and may benefit from reading my story.

END

About the Author
Stuart has had around 1,000 articles published in print magazines. He wrote a monthly column for the UK’s leading bodybuilding magazine for 22 consecutive years. He also authored several acclaimed books including BEYOND BRAWN and BUILD MUSCLE LOSE FAT LOOK GREAT, and published his own magazine for 15 years. But his success as a writer was born out of his efforts to survive the profound struggles he had because of his psychological challenges, which resulted in suffocating distress.
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Secrets in Paris Blitz

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Romance
Date Published: February 12, 2020
Publisher: Jan-Carol Publishing, Inc.

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Marcia had to learn how to survive. To do so, she was introduced to the life of the escort service. After escaping that line of work, she decides to spend a year in Paris to rebuild her life. She meets Stephane, an heir to a wealthy family fortune and falls in love with him, but to her horror, she discovers that Stephane’s sister, Etienne, is engaged to marry Mason, a former dysfunctional client. Will he expose her past life? Or should she confess to Stephane and chance losing him to protect Etienne? Does all come to a crashing end?
Excerpt
Chapter 1
It was a rainy day in mid-August. A young woman walked quickly, taking long strides down a crowded walkway as her heartbeat pounded in her chest from nervousness, or maybe adrenaline. Her head held high, she stared straight ahead, avoiding everyone’s eyes. She wore a Burberry black trench coat, palazzo pants, and black Louboutin high heels. She carried a large bag over her arm. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of black sunglasses, and her shoulder length blond hair bounced with every step she took. Her hips swung from side to side as she made her way through the alley. Men turned their heads to take a second peek at her while wishing she belonged to them or wondering who she was.
Keep walking. Don’t stop until you get to the gate, or you might not go. No, this is your destiny, your dream. Keep walking and don’t look at anyone. You can do this, she kept telling herself over and over again.
She arrived at the Air France boarding gate and stopped near the counter, leaning against one of the walls. She was at Terminal E at Boston Logan Airport. She waited with anticipation for her one-way flight to Paris, never looking at anyone. She dropped her carry-on bag next to her leg, then took her boarding pass and her American Passport from her pocket to verify her seat again. She noticed her hands were trembling, so she placed them, along with her papers, back in her pockets as she counted the minutes to board the plane. Her eyes closed momentarily, and she bit her lower lip, taking a deep, impatient breath as she tried to calm herself. She was about to make a life-changing decision. I hope I’m doing the right thing and that I won’t regret this choice later, she thought. What if I don’t like Paris? What if… Stop it! You will be just fine. You can always come back.
Marcia Philips was a beautiful woman in her late twenties. She was an only child, orphaned. She had lost her parents in a car accident caused by a drunk driver while she was in her sophomore year of college. She had been pursuing a business degree at Bentley University in Boston, Massachusetts, and had always dreamed of opening her own high-end clothing store and being her own boss, but her aspirations had been shattered by the pain that enveloped her at that time. She was now alone. Since her parents had both been schoolteachers, they had not been able to save much money while trying to put her through college. They had left her a small bungalow, which she sold for nearly nothing in order to pay for the funeral cost and the pile of hospital bills that was left behind after their death. Tears pooled in her eyes every time she thought about them. It had been a difficult few years trying to cope with their passing and reorganize her life to survive. She had worked two jobs to try to continue her studies, but it had been very stressful balancing both work and college. Many nights she had lain awake in bed, wondering how she was going to pay the rent or her tuition. She had been waitressing at a diner in the evenings and tutoring other students on campus, but she had still been having difficulties meeting both ends…until that one late afternoon when she had met Tiffany. That seemed like such a long time ago, an eternity, but it had only been four and a half years earlier.
A year had passed since the death of her parents. Marcia sat at a table, her hand under her chin, in the library of the university. Her table was by one of the windows, and she gazed at the blue flowers outside. She was wondering how she was going to finish her schoolwork on time and still manage to get to her waitressing night job at seven, and then she was interrupted. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone standing by her table. Marcia turned her head and looked up at the girl, giving her an annoyed look. A tall, lean girl in her mid-twenties stood motionless, her long black hair tied up in a messy bun. Marcia noticed her stunning blue eyes. She was dressed in blue jeans and a gray Bentley sweatshirt, and she was glancing down at Marcia.
“Hi, do you mind if I sit with you? There aren’t any other empty tables by the window, and I like the sunlight,” she said as she set her backpack on the table and then processed to pull the chair back. She sat down on the chair before taking her accounting book and her computer out.
Marcia stared at her, frustrated at the disruption, but answered, “Sure, go ahead,” in a flat tone. Then she directed her attention back to reading her business assignment.
“My name is Tiffany Reynolds. You’re in my accounting class with Mr. Brown, aren’t you? I’ve seen you around campus,” the girl quietly said as she took a pen out of her pencil case, seemingly preparing for her studies.
Marcia casually looked away from her book, curled her lips at the girl, and nodded, irritated at being bothered again. “Yes. I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to finish my project. I don’t have time to chat,” she told her firmly, then returned to staring at her computer screen.
“I’m sorry to intrude, but I was told that you’re really good with numbers. I heard you tutor other students on the side for extra cash and that you are the best around, so I thought maybe you could… Listen, I really need help, and I can pay you whatever you want,” she replied.
Marcia watched as Tiffany tilted her head down, cast her eyes away, and shrugged her shoulders in desperation. She pressed her lips together, trying not to burst out laughing at her expression, but she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. Although it would take time away from her own studies, she needed the money. She looked at the clock on the far wall, then grinned at Tiffany and nodded her head.
“My name is Marcia Philips. My fee is fifty dollars per hour. I only have an hour before I have to go to work. What do you need help with, and what don’t you understand?” Marcia asked her.
“Everything!” Tiffany answered, and then they both laughed. From that day on, they became best friends, and Marcia’s life changed forever.
Marcia was brought back to reality when she heard the flight attendant at the counter announce her flight number. She lifted her head and noticed people getting in line at the first-class row. She bent down, gripping the handle of her bag tightly. She exhaled heavily as she took a couple of steps forward to get in line behind the other passengers who were boarding the first-class section on the plane. She took her passport from her pocket and opened it so she could look at her boarding pass, glancing at her seat number again: 3A. The line started to move forward, and she slowly made her way to the airbus that was going to take her to her new life. She quickly arrived at her assigned seat and set her bag down, opening it and taking a magazine out, and then she stored her carry-on in the overhead storage compartment. Slipping off her coat, she gave it to the flight attendant so she would hang it up in the closet, then thanked her. She placed her pillow and blanket to the side and sat down while she waited for the other passengers to board.
“Would you care for anything to drink?” another attendant came by and asked her.
Marcia looked up at her and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m all set,” she answered.
She reached down for her seatbelt buckle and fastened it around her waist, then made herself comfortable by putting her pillow behind her head and wrapping the blanket around herself. She prepared for the long flight overseas. She didn’t want to eat, watch television, or talk to anyone; all she wanted to do was sleep until she landed in Paris. Her head was hurting, and her whole body ached from lack of sleep. She was rubbing her temples with her fingers when a feeling came over her that someone was observing her, so she slowly turned her head to her left to look. A well-dressed man in a tailored suit and tie sat in the seat next to her, just across the aisle. She watched him as he loosened his tie and then placed his hands on his knees, all the while focusing on her. Hmm! Handsome, she thought. He was in his early thirties. A strand of his dark brown hair had fallen on his forehead, but it was his deep aqua eyes that made him intriguing. From how intensely he stared at her, it was almost as if he could read her mind. He never uttered a word. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, but it seemed like longer, and then he smiled, showing her a perfect set of teeth. Marcia didn’t move or return his smile. She was instantly brought back to why she was leaving Boston and how easily it would be to engage him into conversation for her benefit, but she was done with that lifestyle. She didn’t need a man in her life at this moment. She angled her face away from him and sat back in her seat, hiding behind the panel of her pod so he couldn’t see her.
She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would invade her soon so she could forget the events that had burdened her over the last four years, but it was not to be. Her thoughts went back in time, reminding her why she was flying across the world and trying to forget those days. She was determined to put her life back together, without any drama or men.
Tears formed behind her eyelids as she thought about what she had done to survive, what she had done to be able to move forward and finish the last years of college. She balled her fists under the blanket as she tried to wash away the horrible memories. Don’t do this to yourself, she thought. It’s over. You are a strong, independent woman, and you need to put the past behind you and move on with your life. Focus your energy on achieving what you have yearned to do since you were a little girl. Learn about fashion and be a successful entrepreneur. Time will heal all wounds. Leave the past behind and concentrate on the future.
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the bad memories that still haunted her. She felt the movement of the airbus under her as it took off down the runaway, headed toward France. Fifteen minutes later the plane was in the air, and she couldn’t turn back now. Less than a half hour later she had reclined her seat into a bed, and she was sound asleep.
* * *
The mysterious man sitting next to Marcia on the plane was Stephane LaRoche. He was the heir to a large vineyard in the region of Epernay, located northeast of Paris. For many years his family had produced some of the best award-winning wines and champagnes in the world. He was being groomed to inherit one of the most prestigious plantations in France, called LaRoche Vineyards, which yielded the best grapes used in winemaking. Stephane and his younger sister, Etienne, had been taught every aspect of the industry since they had been children. They were meant to take the over the business and bring it to the next level in the world of wine awards. Stephane’s father, Michel, was to pass over the reins of the company to Stephane after his retirement later that year.
While in line to board his flight, Stephane stood a couple of passengers behind the woman with the black trench coat. He had followed the blonde with his eyes as she walked past him and headed to the first-class section of the Air France flight. He was enthralled by her for some unknown reason, and he hoped he might get to meet her on the seven hour trans-Atlantic flight. He loved the way she held her head high with confidence, as if she was in control, walking with a bounce in her stride. He even loved her manicured fingernails. Everything about her aroused his interest. He hadn’t seen such a beautiful woman in a long time. He desperately wanted to see her eyes, which were hidden behind those black shades.
How in the hell can I like this woman so much? She hasn’t even spoken a word to me! This is totally absurd. She is probably married, or she at least has a boyfriend, Stephane thought as he followed behind her. He felt joy when he found out his seat was next to hers. He glanced down at her left hand as she passed her coat to the flight attendant—no wedding ring. He walked to his seat, never taking his eyes off of her, and quickly sat down. He placed his briefcase down next to his feet, then buckled in. A sexual rush passed through him as he realized how close he was to her. If he reached over the aisle, he could touch her. I bet her skin is as soft as silk, he thought. He had to know more about this woman. He couldn’t move, and he hoped she would look his way. Unable to stop himself, he stared at her. Never in his life had something like this happened to him. It was as if he was drawn to her. He watched as she placed the pillow behind her head before unwrapping the blanket and spreading it over her body. He rubbed his hands together nervously, undoing his tie and then placing his hands on his lap, all the while keeping his eyes on her.
For God’s sake, stop it! Stephane’s mind screamed. She’s only a woman. You have had hundreds of them over the years. What’s so different about her? he asked himself. But he was attracted to her like no other.
Stephane was pleased when she leaned forward in her seat and glanced his way. How beautiful she is! His heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers, so he smiled her way. She held his gaze for what seemed like a long time, and lust invaded his being. He was about to introduce himself to her, but she turned away before a single word was said. She moved backwards and disappeared behind the partition of her seat. Stephane’s shoulders slumped forward, and his heart sunk as he realized that he had failed to capture this woman’s attention. Never in his life had that happened. He leaned back in his seat, disappointed. Maybe I’ll have another chance later, he thought.
He stayed awake during the whole flight by watching a movie, reading contracts, and having supper, but while he did all of that, she slept. He got up to use the washroom twice, just so he could spy on her. He strolled the aisle slowly, admiring her from afar as she slept. As he stopped by his seat and looked over at her, he saw that she was on her side, her blanket covering her up to the shoulders. He could see the curve of her hip and her untidy hair, which was caused by her tossing and turning in the confined space. She looked so peaceful. I need to calm myself. This is ridiculous! Never have I wanted to meet a woman in the way I do now, he thought to himself, taking his seat quickly so she wouldn’t catch him observing her sleep.
He peeked over toward her seat every time she moved, hoping she would sit up and he would be able to talk to her, but she slept through the whole flight, and the flight attendant had to wake her up right before the plane landed. He watched her fold her blanket, pull a bottle of water from her bag, and take a sip of the water. He kept tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. His heart began to beat faster at the anticipation of talking to her. He still couldn’t see her face. She finally stood up, turned her back to him, and bent down to grab her pocketbook. His eyes were locked on her. He pulled himself to the edge of his seat in the hopes that he might be able to help her with the carry-on that was surely in the overhead compartment, but she just walked down the aisle toward the washroom without even looking his way. He leaned over his armrest and observed as her hips swayed from side to side with every step she took. He sat back in his seat, disappointed, but he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He kept watching for the red light from the bathroom to turn green, as it would give him an indication that she was coming toward him again.
Stephane waited patiently until he saw her come down the row. She had fixed her hair and put on red lipstick. Wow! How I would love to kiss those lips, he thought. He shifted his body closer to the side so he could see her better. Her head was facing to her right, away from him, as she walked back to her seat. She was only ten feet away. She was going to sit down again, and he would lose his chance to talk to her. Do something to get her attention. Say something before she sits down again, he kept repeating to himself.
About the Author

Ann El-Nemr has been writing for five years and this is her sixth novel. She resides in Shrewsbury, Mass. She loves to travel and explore new cities. She loves spending time with her friends and family. Her other published books are Betrayed, Forgiven, Lonesome Vagabond, The Pledge, and Blinded by Obsession. Ann El-Nemr can be reached on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, www.annelnemr.com or JCP Publishing Inc.
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