To delve into another’s mind is to revel in the depths of truth
CARNAL WHISPERS:
MIND STALKER
Carnal #3
Reily Garrett
Releasing July 11th, 2016
To
delve into another’s mind is to revel in the depths of truth, cringe in the
face of past and imagined horrors, and suffer their dreams, all while searching
for balance and serenity.
Daniele
is a mysterious, gentle, and loyal young woman harboring knowledge capable of
destroying millions. Thumbing her nose at fate, she hides in plain sight while
concealing her extraordinary talent, enduring isolation despite her fantasies
of a normal life.
Marc, owner of the BDSM club, Ambrosia, is
determined to protect the elusive beauty stalked by a psychopathic killer.
Hidden underneath her vulnerability, he senses a courage and determination
forged from horrific circumstances. While adapting unique scenes to free her
from fear and low self-esteem, he strives to stay one step ahead of a branch of
the government answering to no one.
Each
must rely on the other to survive a world where betrayal and deception, desire
and trust, weave a fabric that threatens their sanity.
BUY NOW
“No. I'm afraid you just missed
her, but I can schedule you for Monday morning if that's all right.”
Though handsome, his blatant interest didn't stir the
heart-fluttering, chaotic beat associated with Marc’s presence.
“Sure, darlin’. What time is
good for you?” Leaning over the bi-level counter allowed him visual
access to her organized space. “Ah…I see you read erotic romance.
I have a sister that writes for a large, New York publisher.”
Oh hell.
Her fingers couldn't move fast enough to hide the book's cover, a
leather-clad man handcuffing his naked woman’s upper arms behind
her back in front of a spanking bench. In her haste to hide the
cover, she inadvertently skid the book off the counter, landing
several feet to Marc’s side.
Where else would it land?
His swift reflexes resulted in
scooping up the offending material. After a quick glance at the
cover, his head tilted back and forth, as if judging the merits of
the scene depicted and finding it lacking in some specific way.
Something inside her dictated he’d return the book—for a price.
Fiery heat blazed up her neck to
engulf her face, becoming an inferno worthy of a three-alarm fire.
His shaking shoulders did nothing for her composure. Yeah,
and he owns the BDSM club thirty miles away.
“How about Monday morning at
ten-thirty. Uh, your name, sir?” After fumbling the appointment
card twice, she placed it on the counter and grabbed the nearby pen.
Panic became a palpable pressure in her chest. Perspiration dotted
her forehead and spine between her shoulder blades.
“Clayton Hutson and that sounds
great, darlin’. I'll see you then…unless you'd let me take you to
dinner tonight.”
“Sorry, Mr. Hutson, I’m busy
tonight.” I think I’ll
just call you slick.
“Well, how about lunch tomorrow?”
Something in his distinct and
intense scrutiny now scared her shitless, a foreboding she hadn’t
endured for three years. The prickling along her nape and arms never
happened randomly. Blood drained from her face to leave her shaken at
the sight of his rough hands on the counter, calloused hands that
could wield a garrote with expertise. Could
he be the serial killer responsible for the recent murders?
The
fact he stood before her, overshadowing and transmitting such bad
vibes ensured she wouldn't feel safe for a long time, even if he just
saw her as a sexual conquest.
Under normal circumstances,
discerning someone's goals amounted to a simple exercise, whether
honest or nefarious, but Marc's overwhelming effect on her mindset
obliterated her ability to pick up slick's intentions.
A suggestive throat clearing
transferred her attention back to Marc, whose demeanor revealed no
evidence of his earlier carefree banter. “No, Hutson. She's with
me.” His expression lost all signs of levity as he crowded closer
to her workspace, edging the other man out. “I'll pick you up at
ten a.m., Dani. Okay?” Darius's combination whine-growl elicited a
like response in the other dog. Each shepherd’s attunement to his
master’s emotions came as no surprise.
Hutson’s face broadcast a tangle
of warning signs she’d label aggressive if expressed in canine
form, non-blinking, direct eye contact, dilated pupils, hardened jaw,
and a predator’s grin.
Her
well-planned intentions evaporated like seawater meeting magma, the
haze forming smothered the intricate workings of her mind. At this
point, mangled words were a useless commodity. She merely nodded.
“Right then. Have a good day, Mr.
Hutson.” Marc's conspicuous dismissal earned him a groan and
insincere apology.
“Sorry, man. Didn't know she was
taken. It’s not as if she's wearing a ring or collar. Nice dog by
the way. I watched him track in his first trial. Good nose in bad
weather and difficult cover.” His calculating gaze bore into Marc
as if gauging the likelihood of winning a dirty, no-holds-barred
fight; his shark’s grin hid nothing.
Hutson’s departure allowed Dani to
draw a slow lungful of toxin-purging air. “Thank you, Marc. He made
me a bit nervous for some reason.”
“Welcome. Any time. He kicked my
sixth sense into overdrive, too. You all right? You turned white as a
sheet. Do you know him from somewhere?” Darius whined and chuffed,
pulling on his leash until Marc let go. “What's up, boy? You never
misbehave…”
Barreling around the counter to rub
against her thigh, Darius’ chest rumbled when Dani buried her face
in the long hair at his neck. “Aw, sweetie. It's all right. You're
such a good boy.” His fur smelled of oatmeal and vanilla shampoo,
the same she used with dog baths in the office. “I’ve never seen
that guy before, but he gave me the creeps.”
“We'll hang around until you
leave.” More a command than offer, his statement, along with his
expression, brooked no argument.
“Thanks. Something about him…”
The soft fur against her cheek imbued a soothing calm, unattainable
through any other means.
“Yeah, me too. Anyway, about
tomorrow, give me your address and I'll pick you up.”
“Oh. I thought you just said that
to get me off the hook with Hutson. You really don't need to bother.”
Miles of blood vessels conveyed scorching, liquid heat blazing a
trail up her neck and across her face. Intervention via reality
proved to be a bitch. She stood no chance holding her own with this
man turned demi-god.
“No trouble at all. That way I can
check and make sure you’re all right.”
“How 'bout I meet you there.”
The less information she gave a man like this, the better. Dangerous
in his own way, Marc Crofton embodied thoughts of lust, dreams of
bondage, large wooden X’s, and unspeakable toys wringing out
mind-blowing sensations. Like
any man would want a girl like me.
“Ahh…I look forward to earning
your trust. Perhaps after a day at the trials, you'd join me for
dinner.” He didn’t just set the book down on her workspace, no,
he had to make a meal of it, placing it conspicuously then patting
the cover.
“Oh, I-I don't eat dinner. Well,
um, I eat dinner but not on weekends. No. Actually, I don't go out on
weekends…Well, I go out….” Any minute, tears of humiliation
would stain her cheeks. “I don't date.” Crap,
just shoot me now.
“That’s fine. I'm not ready for
a date, either. Good thing we cleared that up. We'll just grab a bite
to eat. I'd hate to keep you out all day and return you home tired
and hungry, very bad manners.” The look in his gaze spoke of
insatiable appetites, steamy, erotic, raw nights filled with
breathless screams and creative, salacious undertakings. Carnal
whispers filtered through her mind, encouraged by her rich
imagination and curious nature to form a solid wall of longing
buffeted by her long-suffering, low self-esteem.
Reily’s employment as an ICU nurse, private
investigator, and work in the military police has given her countless
experiences in a host of different environments to add a real world feel to her
fiction.
Though her kids are her life, writing is Reily’s
life after. The one enjoyed…after the kids are in bed or after they’re in
school and the house is quiet. This is the time she kicks back with laptop and
lapdog to give her imagination free rein.
In life, hobbies can come and go according to
our physical abilities, but you can always enjoy a good book. Life isn’t
perfect, but our imaginations can be. Relax, whether it’s in front of a fire or
in your own personal dungeon. Take pleasure in a mental pause as you root for
your favorite hero/heroine and bask in their accomplishments, then share your
opinions of them over a coffee with your best friend (even if he’s four
legged). Life is short. Cherish your time
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