Summerâs here, and to get you in the mood weâve got some sizzling reads for you this month!
So relax and enjoyâ¦a scandalous proposal in Bought for Revenge, Bedded for Pleasure by Emma Darcy; a virgin bride in Virgin: Wedded at the Italianâs Convenience by Diana Hamilton; a billionaireâs bargain in The Billionaireâs Blackmailed Bride by Jacqueline Baird; a sexy Spaniard in Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife by Kate Walker; and an Italianâs marriage ultimatum in The Salvatore Marriage Deal by Natalie Rivers. And be sure to read The Greek Tycoonâs Baby Bargain, the first book in Sharon Kendrickâs brilliant new duet, GREEK BILLIONAIRESâ BRIDES.
Plus, two new authors bring you their dazzling debutsâNatalie Anderson with His Mistress by Arrangement, and Anne Oliver with Marriage at the Millionaireâs Command. Donât miss out!
Weâd love to hear what you think about Presents. E-mail us at [email protected] or join in the discussions at www.iheartpresents.com and www.sensationalromance.blogspot.com, where youâll also find more information about books and authors!
Private jets. Luxury cars. Exclusive five-star hotels.
Designer outfits for every occasion and an entourage of staff to see to your every whimâ¦.
In this brand-new collection, ordinary women step into the world of the super-rich and are
Heâll have herâbut at what price?
All about the authorâ¦
Anne Oliver
When not teaching or writing, ANNE OLIVER loves nothing more than escaping into a book. She keeps a box of tissues handyâher favorite stories are intense, passionate, against-all-odds romances. Eight years ago she began creating her own characters in paranormal and time-travel adventures, before turning to contemporary romance. Other interests include quilting, astronomy, all things Scottish and eating anything she doesnât have to cook. Sharing her charactersâ journeys with readers all over the world is a privilegeâ¦and a dream come true. Anne lives in Adelaide, South Australia, and has two adult children. Visit her Web site at www.anne-oliver.com. She loves to hear from readers. E-mail her at [email protected].
Marriage at the Millionaireâs Command was written during a period of personal upheaval, only to come second in the Romance Writers of New Zealandâs 2004 Clendon Award for a full novel!
This oneâs for you, Mum!
Also, thanks to my great critique team and to
editors Kimberley Young and Meg Sleightholme for their valuable insight and revision suggestions to the original manuscript.
THE scent of her grandmotherâs perfume was the first sign. The prickle at her nape was the second. While Granâs scent was benign and loving and familiar, the second sign sent a shiver down her spine.
Carissa Grace never ignored signs.
Anxious, she scanned the stream of cars outside Sydneyâs Cove Hotel. Her stepsister Melanie had insisted on picking her up since Carissaâs gig at the piano bar had finished after midnight tonight. That had been twenty minutes ago.
Hurry up, Mel. Somethingâsâ
The screech of brakes sheared through the balmy night, an agony of metal on metal over the mellow sound of sax drifting from a nearby nightclub. As the dented Holden mounted the kerb, its headlights loomed like silver lasers before her, terrifyingly stark against the subtle orange glow of the city night.
For a stunned second Carissa couldnât move. She was one with the crowd as it held its collective breath, movement halted, time suspended, minds frozen.
An instant later the car was gone, leaving only the acrid smell of exhaust fumes and hot bitumen.
âAnyone hurt?â a male voice demanded in a deep timbre that rippled down Carissaâs spine like an arpeggio. In the awed hush that followed, a man emerged from the knot of people huddled against the hotelâs sparkling lobby windows.
Tall, broad-shouldered. Awesome. He looked as dangerous as the chaos around him, from the heavily shadowed jaw and unkempt brown hair that curled over his neck to the faded black jeans and T-shirt. Not the kind of man sheâd have expected to get involved in anything but trouble. Every âbad boyâ fantasy Carissa had ever had vibrated into shockingâand inappropriateâawareness.
âSomeone call an ambulance.â His order snapped with authority.
Then she saw the form sprawled on the concrete. In two strides he was there, crouching over the slumped figure, speaking low. It was an old woman, Carissa realised, the bag lady sheâd seen scrounging through the bin only moments ago. Despite the heat, she was covered from neck to ankle in a filthy coat. Her limbs flailed as she struggled up.
With no hesitation the man scooped a hand beneath her head, holding her against his thigh, murmuring soothing noises against her ear.