Grahame Claire is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance.
A writer. A blogger. United by our love of stories and all things romance. There was definitely some insta-love. Hello? Books involved. A little courting. A lot of writing. The result…Grahame Claire.
Soulmates. Unashamed of our multiple book boyfriends. Especially the ones that rooted in our heads and wouldn’t leave us alone. Don’t worry. We’ll share.
Title: Black Canvas Author: Laura Rossi Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes. And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs.”
“A story of mystery and intrigue weaved together with prose so delectable, so sublime. A must-read. A masterpiece. A thrill.” Eleanor Lloyd-Jones
“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes.
And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs. I can be both the wife and the whore. I’m a better version of myself and a better version of Miss Perfection.
But most importantly I have control.
I’ve never had control.
Then, my eyes open to the real world—right when he’s kissing me in the dream, before he can tell me I’m the love of his life and that he only thinks of me.
I wonder if he lies to her like he lies to me every time we see each other. Does he tell her he loves her? And why? Why does he love her?
She does nothing for him, besides being her.
‘I love you for what you do for me’
Those are his words of love for me. In the moment, they mean everything, but they don’t stay long. They vanish with him—with my dream.
I’m jealous of what he says to her; I hate the way he looks at her.
No secret meetings, no hiding, no masks to disguise ourselves… Everything is out in the open in my dream. I wonder what that would feel like, to live our love out in the open.
Before I wake up completely, I feel this resentment; the rage resurfaces.
Would he be mine if it weren’t for her? Would he have married me, if it weren’t for her? I start to lose control again. I want what she has. I want him.
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. I have no reason to get out of bed so early. I’m alone, and I spend the first moments of my day—of each single day of my life—wondering if he’s sleeping close to her, if he’s breathing her scent… Wondering if and when he’ll call me.
I have no control. He decides. He sets up our meetings. He tells me where and when. My role is to be there on time and the way he wants it. Possibly naked.
It’s only when I get his text that I have the incentive to get up. It changes my day. I work around our meeting, I do what I have to do and I hope time flies to the moment when I’ll see him again.
My whole existence revolves around him.
And is focused on how I can be more like her.
I would do anything, anything, Doctor. Anything to be her.”
he last thing he wants to do is play bodyguard to the woman who broke his heart.
As the wife of a pioneer in the field of biotechnology, Katherine Stallworth had an up-close view of the ugly underbelly of corporate espionage and the cutthroat nature of competition. When her husband is murdered and her life threatened, she turns to Raheem Miller, the one man she can trust–despite their sordid past.
Years ago, Raheem fell in love with Katherine–older, sophisticated, and way out of his league. And nothing has changed. While he’d rather avoid this assignment, he’ll never forgive himself if anything happened to her. In the middle of conducting an investigation into her husband’s death, he discovers a conspiracy that could rock the very foundation of the United States.
Now he must bring the culprits to justice while keeping Katherine alive and his desire in check. Easier said than done.
They exited the apartment, and outside, Raheem slipped dark sunglasses over his eyes and surveyed the street filled with passing cars and briskly walking pedestrians. He didn’t always wear shades, but they served a practical purpose when he worked close protection. In addition to shielding the eyes from direct sunlight, flashes, or glares, they kept eye movements hidden from potential attackers. As security personnel, his eyes constantly roved the immediate area around the principal, and this simple fashion tool made it a little more difficult for a would-be attacker to know where he was looking and which way he was going to move.
The first thing he noticed was Morris talking to the doorman, his back turned to the Mercedes. Raheem realized he had forgotten to let him know they were coming downstairs. Because he’d been distracted—by Katherine’s scent, the urge to caress her skin, and his own long held attraction to her.
Morris and the doorman were both laughing heartily at a joke, and Raheem’s temperature spiked.
“Morris, can I talk to you for a minute?”
They stopped laughing, Morris’s eyes opened wide, and he walked over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you say you were coming downstairs.”
“I didn’t alert you, but what the hell is going on here? Why aren’t you paying attention to the car?”
“What do you mean?” Morris asked.
“Have you already swept the vehicle?”
“Of course. I do a sweep every morning,” Morris said, sounding offended.
“Then why don’t you have eyes on it?” Raheem demanded.
Morris’s cheekbones flushed pink. “Do you really think someone could do anything to the vehicle with me standing right here?”
“Do you really think it would be hard for someone to do something to the vehicle? How difficult would it be for them to attach a tracking device or an explosive to the undercarriage while you’re yakking it up?”
Jaw tight and more color flooding his cheeks, Morris didn’t respond, probably knowing Raheem was right.
“It’s okay,” Katherine interrupted.
“No, it’s not okay,” Raheem said angrily.
“Morris is very good at his job,” she said, her glare signaling he should stop.
“Why did you hire me? To make sure you stayed safe.”
“I would appreciate it if you don’t talk to me in that tone.”
“And I would appreciate it if you’d let me do my job.”
He didn’t care Morris was silently watching the exchange. Katherine had to learn to trust him. He turned to Morris. “We need to do another check of the vehicle.”
“I’m going to be late for my meeting,” Katherine said.
“Then you’ll be late,” Raheem said.
Her eyes flashed at him. “May I speak to you privately for a moment please?”
She didn’t wait for a response and stalked away—heels clicking the sidewalk and the natural sway of her hips catching his eye. While Morris checked the car, Raheem followed and Katherine swung around and faced him.
“Do you have to talk to me like that in front of Morris?”
“You have to let me do my job,” Raheem grated.
“I have no problem with you doing your job, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk to me however you please. You work for me,” she enunciated.
“Exactly. And my job is to keep you safe.” He removed his sunglasses and challenged her with a stare. “If you don’t like my methods, fire me.”
Katherine’s chin tilted a little higher. “Keep pushing me and I will. Get that damn chip off your shoulder.”
She swept past him and went to talk to the doorman. After Morris finished checking the vehicle, they all climbed in and took off.
Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sensual, passionate romance novels, and was born and raised in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free stories on her website at www.delaneydiamond.com.
