I know it's over a month away, but I have
to show everyone the cover for my next book. Paradox is released on May 5th from Silver Publishing, and Reese Dante has just sent me the cover
design. She has nailed every element in this timeslip mystery romance, from the
images to the atmosphere to the lighting and colour. The woman has so much
talent, I am perpetually in awe. Every time I submit a book to Silver, I have two thoughts dominating
my mind.
1: Will they accept it?
2: If they do, I can't wait to see what
marvels Reese [and now Lee Tiffin as well!] will produce to illustrate it.
~ * ~
But before I go on to post the blurb and a
short excerpt from Paradox, my good
friend Sue Brown has a release today
- STOLEN DREAMS - and she's holding
a kind of Follow the Clues Hunt on her blog, with a Giveaway! She asked me for
a silly/sensible question to be on my blog, so here it is, along with her
answer.
CQ: *Ahem* If you were stranded on a desert
island, which of your heroes would you want to rescue you, and why. Please
note, this is RESCUE, not STRANDED WITH *g*
SB: Hmmm. I'd be saved by Eric in Chance to be King. He's an action
hero!! All those muscles.... although would I need brains as well? Hmm, James
Trenchard from Final Admission. He's
clever and a fast talker. He'd get me out of trouble.
Heh. So Sue has gone for brains over brawn.
Just as well I restricted her to her own characters, otherwise she'd be torn
between two TV characters, one of whom has brains and brawn, but doesn't float
her boat quite the same way as his slightly less brawny and less brainy but
much prettier brother.
~ * ~
And now on to Paradox - Phil has a job he loves, full of danger and excitement
most of the time, and a working partner he trusts with his life. Until Ryan
kisses him. It's only meant to be a diversion tactic to convince the heavies
they're two harmless gays, but that kiss shakes Phil's word to its foundations.
He doesn't do commitment. He doesn't need or want a longterm lover, but that's
what his heart is reaching for.
An accident leaves him drifting in and out of a dream-haunted coma, trapped in his wrecked car waiting for rescue, and he is sharing a parallel life. Centuries ago, someone is trying to kill Caius Marcellus Valens, and Phil must find out who and why. But he's alone. No partner, no backup - or is there? Nothing is the way it seems.
An accident leaves him drifting in and out of a dream-haunted coma, trapped in his wrecked car waiting for rescue, and he is sharing a parallel life. Centuries ago, someone is trying to kill Caius Marcellus Valens, and Phil must find out who and why. But he's alone. No partner, no backup - or is there? Nothing is the way it seems.
Excerpt:
"We need to be closer." Phil
nudged his elbow into Ryan's ribs. "Come on, Bucky."
"Wait! Fuck's sake, you
hot-headed—"
Phil ignored his partner. He pulled off
his dark cap, ruffled his short hair into trendy spikes, and strolled casually
across the square with a swagger to his shoulders, confident as always that
Ryan would follow his lead. He walked through the cordon of Belushi's men,
ignoring the suspicious glares directed his way, and stopped to read the
illuminated menu and programme outside the Paradiso Club. From the
corner of his eye, he saw Fremantle hand over a package the size and shape of a
book. He could even see the dark print at each end and didn't need to read it
to know the cardboard bore the Amazon labelling. No book sat inside it;
according to their info it held a gold and gem-framed icon, three hundred years
old, stolen from the Csák-Salazar Gallery in Budapest a month ago. Then Phil saw three heavies
striding purposefully towards him. Fuck, Ryan, where the hell are you?
And there he was, running towards him
waving and grinning like an idiot, untidy red-blond hair flying in the evening breeze.
"Hé, Jacques, je suis tarde! Je suis désolé!" Ryan called in
French, the language their code for follow my lead. Ryan didn't slow
down when he was close. Instead he barrelled into Phil, wrapping one arm around
him and pulling him into a close embrace. And kissed him, full on the mouth,
his hand clamped on the nape of Phil's neck, ensuring he had to stand there and
take it. Heat seared through Phil's blood. Ryan's mouth was hot, demanding,
moving slow and languorous on his as if he would feast on him for hours. He
tried to breathe through the shock of it, tried to fight the tide of sheer lust
flaring up in him, tried to push his partner away. But his muscles would not
cooperate. Instead his arms moved of their own volition and locked around
Ryan's lean body, holding him closer—then Ryan ended the kiss and nibbled on
his earlobe. "We're creating the diversion," he whispered. "Dennis
and Vera are making the retrieval."
Shock became anger and Phil broke their
embrace, shoving Ryan away from him. Somehow he managed to remember they were
on assignment, and what was at stake. "Qui était avec vous?"
he yelled, improvising quickly. He didn't have to fake his outrage.
~ * ~
