Happy Halloween everyone! I hope this day is as happy for you as it is for me, and the reason why I’m so happy is because THE PLOT, my latest Suspense Romance, is now live and available for purchase on Amazon, at the special launching price of $0,99.
It was already #2 in the Asian American literature top, and I hope that with your help I’ll fulfill my dream of making this deeply emotional story a bestseller.
I have prepared a little excerpt for you, but first let me give you the blurb:
At eighteen, Yoko Hirano falls into the tentacles of a human trafficking organization and is forced into prostitution. Her first sexual experience is close to a rape, so she becomes traumatized and her opinions about men are low and unflattering. She uses her charms only as means of manipulation.
Four years later she meets the tall, dark and charming antique dealer Mark Chandler. They both acknowledge reluctantly the complicated chemistry between them, but Yoko’s grand scheme of things doesn’t involve falling in love, nor does she think Mark would want her if he found out about her past. To get revenge and prevent other girls from sharing her fate, she plans to ruin the Chinese triad that has destroyed her life and innocence.
However, she doesn’t realize that Mark can be an asset in her plans of bringing down the powerful mobster Michael Chen and his interlopers. Together, they make a quite formidable pair…
*WARNING: this book contains scenes of physical and emotional abuse, explicit language, cybercrime elements, sex and other adult content
Suddenly, without any warning, she had the distinct impression someone was watching her. She lifted her gaze from her book and stared right into the eyes of the man sitting across from her, two tables away. As she looked at him, something funny happened to make her stomach flutter.
Yoko didn’t hate men, as most prostitutes do. But she despised them. In her experience, they were no better than any male animals, ready to do anything for their own pleasure, take their satisfaction with no regard for the woman’s feelings. She considered them primitive and disgusting, brutal and selfish. Never in her life had she experienced desire for a man, or any kind of flattering feelings. Oh, she was a master at dissimulating, but her feelings toward men were of loathing. She was convinced they all wanted only one thing from her. When a man watched her, she knew there was only one thing he thought about—sex.
However, when her gaze met that of the stranger in front of her, a wave of confusion shadowed her convictions. His intense dark eyes seemed absorbed with her, as though he couldn’t look away. But in them she didn’t see the usual lascivious lust she was accustomed to. They seemed direct and sincere, as if they stared beyond her body, into her soul. She didn’t see desire in the stranger’s eyes, but genuine interest.
Flustered, she glanced out the window, just as she heard the man’s cell phone beep. When she looked back at him, he was typing something on his phone. She took advantage of his distraction and studied him more thoroughly. He appeared to be in his thirties. His hair was as black as hers, matching his eyes and olive skin. She would have pegged him for an Italian or Greek prototype, judging by his appearance. A wisp of hair fell over his forehead as he gazed down at the phone in his hand. He needed a haircut, but the unruly style suited the edgy, masculine lines of his face. He somehow managed to look elegant and rebellious at the same time. If Yoko had known the meaning of the word ‘sexy’, she would have certainly catalogued him as such. As it was, she could only acknowledge there was something attractive about this stranger.
There was also something hard and tough about his face, in his entire demeanor. Subtle lines radiated from the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, giving him an air of maturity. His body seemed well built and hard under the blue jeans and leather jacket he wore. She wondered about the jacket. It was early May and the day was very warm. She was already hot in her short-sleeved top, but the man didn’t break a sweat in his black jacket. Under it, Yoko glimpsed a simple black T-shirt.
She was startled when he looked up again, putting the phone on the table. His eyes were serious and distracted, until they focused on her again. Then they softened somewhat, just as his firm, sensual mouth stretched into the hint of a smile.
Irrationally, Yoko’s heart began to pound harder, as she lowered her eyes to her book, pretending to read. What did this man want from her? Did he know who she was? What she was? Was he trying to pick her up? She felt mortified at the thought that he could have known or guessed her profession. She was thinking of gathering her things quickly and leaving, when Otsu sat at her table, blocking the man from her sight.
Buy it now from Amazon.