Black Heart: A Cursed Heart Novel
(The first of eight novels)
Coming to an online bookstore near you on June 22, 2013
There was something seriously wrong with Marty. That was the only explanation that she could come up with. Why else would she feel this way for the biggest SOB in town? Granted, he was also the hottest man in town, but he was also arrogant, callous, and determined to drive her away even as he drove her crazy with his touch. She should just walk away from him and probably would if it wasn’t for this connection that she’d always had with him that kept making her want more with the one man that couldn’t give her anything more than heartache.
He should have left and never looked back when he’d decided to finally do the right thing and push Marty out of his life, but instead he stuck around to torture himself by staying close to the one woman that he could never allow himself to have. She deserved better than him, better than the tortured existence that he led and better than the horrifying future that waited for him.
An excerpt from Black Heart:
Tristan gripped the edge of the desk until he feared that his fingers would snap off when he felt her warm soft lips press against his shoulder. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his raging hormones. The last thing either one of them needed was him jumping her. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He could really go for it, but he was pretty sure that she might get upset.
“What was that for?” he somehow managed to ask. Although truth be told he had no idea if it came out coherent since his mind was still focused on the things that he wanted to do with her mouth.
He felt her warm breath tickle his ear. Oh…shit……
“For all those times you used to kiss me better. Remember?”
He chuckled softly as his body turned to putty beneath her touch. “How could I ever forget? You were my own personal stalker.”
She playfully slapped him on his good shoulder. “I was not a stalker!”
“Yes, you were!” He chuckled harder as he remembered how diligent she was about following him everywhere. If his father hadn’t attached locks on the bathroom doors she would have followed him in there as well.
“Hey, I was not half as bad as the girls who used to follow you around when we were in school,” she said defensively as she continued to rub his back. She felt him further relax as they reminisced about the good old days, the days where she got to spend every waking moment with him and felt whole.
He groaned loudly. “Don’t remind me. I still have nightmares of giggling girls with acne and braces chasing me down and trying to steal a kiss.” He gave her a mock shudder that earned a soft chuckle.
“See,” she teased, “I wasn’t that bad. I only demanded kisses when I had a boo boo.”
“That’s true. Even then sometimes you demanded extra kisses for all of your invisible injuries.”
She sighed dramatically. “I was a sneaky one.”
“Yes, you were,” he chuckled in agreement. She loved the sound of his laughter, absolutely adored it.
“I still remember the last time you gave me a kiss,” she said, smiling at the memory of her first kiss.
“Really?” he asked, stunned that she did. He remembered the last time, but for completely different reasons.
“Uh huh,” she said, stopping her massage to squeeze a little more lotion in her hands. Tristan’s eyes closed as he enjoyed her ministrations.
“How could I ever forget the kiss that made my life a living hell?”
Copyright 2013, All Rights Reserved R.L. Mathewson