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.
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EXCERPT
“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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