âFresh, funny, flirty and feel-goodâwho can resist one
of Nicola Marshâs delectable category romances? With a fabulously fun heroine, a sexy hero and lashings of witty dialogue, Overtime in the Bossâs Bed is another keeper from the stellar pen of Nicola Marsh!â âwww.PinkHeartSociety.com on Overtime in the Bossâs Bed
âNicola Marsh heats up your winter nights with this
blazingly sensual tale of lost love, second chances and old secrets! In Marriage: For Business or Pleasure? Nicola Marsh blends hot sensuality with tender romance, witty humour and nail-biting drama, which will keep readers eagerly turning the pages of this spellbinding contemporary romance!â âwww.PinkHeartSociety.com on Marriage: For Business or Pleasure?
âThis lovers-reunited tale is awash in passion,
sensuality and plenty of sparks. The terrific characters immediately capture your attention, and from there the pages go flying by.â âRT Book Reviews on Marriage: For Business or Pleasure?
âSterling characters, an exotic setting and crackling
sexual tension make for a great read.â âRT Book Reviews on A Trip with the Tycoon
About Nicola Marsh
NICOLA MARSH has always had a passion for writing and reading. As a youngster she devoured books when she should have been sleeping, and later kept a diary whose content could be an epic in itself! These days, when sheâs not enjoying life with her husband and son in her home city of Melbourne, sheâs at her computer, creating the romances she loves in her dream job.
Visit Nicolaâs website at www.nicolamarsh.com for the latest news of her books.
AVA BECKETT sighed with pleasure as she slid into the warm water, lazily breast-stroking to the edge of the infinity pool where she propped on her forearms, staring out at the lights of Melbourne glittering twenty-seven floors below.
Sheâd stayed at luxurious hotels around the world but there was something decadently edgy and funky about Melbourneâs newest, the Crown Metropol.
Sighing at the self-indulgence of having the pool all to herself, she let go of the side and floated on her back, eyes closed.
How often had she done this? Done absolutely nothing? Try never. Being the prime ministerâs daughter had been bad enough, being a diplomatâs wife harder. Every minute of every day scheduled to a second: what she wore, what she did, what she ate and when. Stifling. Suffocating. Strangling.
Opening her eyes, she focused on the waterâs reflection shimmering across the roof, happy to do nothing but float. That or pinch herself to see if all this was real, for she still had a hard time believing she was free.
Finally.
Her relationship with Leon had lasted ten years, their lacklustre marriage two, yet the public fallout from their divorce over the last month had been what shattered her most. Every scandalous, invented word plastered across newspapers and magazines making her life hell.
So sheâd escaped. Ditched Canberra for Melbourne, abbreviated her surname to Beck and checked into a new hotel in blessed anonymity.
She needed this break to recover from having her name vilified by muck-raking journalists hell-bent on selling copy rather than the truth, needed some private time to savour her freedom without looking over her shoulder for fear of a long-range lens intruding on a moment that could be misconstrued.
Sheâd been photographed swimming, grocery shopping and heading into a zumba class, three perfectly innocuous, everyday pastimes not allowed by recently divorced women apparently. Theyâd cast her as frivolous, callous, cold-blooded; and that had been the nice reporters.
She knew why theyâd latched onto her after the divorce while leaving Leon unscathed, but it didnât make it any easier. Shying away from answering questions, preferring to maintain a poised front and take a back seat to her famous father and extroverted husband over the years had been misconstrued as aloofness and arrogance whereas Leonâs easy smiles and garrulousness made him the mediaâs darling.
Sheâd been hounded and chased and bruised by the smear campaign over her divorce and she was done.
Time to take control of her life and moving to Melbourne ensured that; if she stayed under the radar.
A soft splash nearby created a gentle wave but the slight disturbance tossing her off kilter didnât bother her. In fact, a tidal wave probably wouldnât shake this surreal feeling of liberating independence.