Hello! Thank you for having me today and allowing me
to introduce Mr. Red to you all :)
You know, I'm sure I say the same thing about every
book – that I had loads of fun writing it – but I really did have loads of fun
writing this story. I started it because I needed a distraction from another
project that wasn't going very well, and before I knew it, Mr. Red and Ally had
taken over my life. The story just came pouring out, and ended up being double
the length I anticipated. I really just didn't want to stop writing! Hopefully
the fun I had is reflected in the story. Enjoy!
When Ally Mosconi's father trades
her in to his mysterious Mafia boss to pay a debt, Ally knows her life has
changed forever. The man she calls Mr. Red is domineering, demanding, and
utterly ruthless. She knows she needs to break free - but with her father's
life in the balance, what can she do to challenge Mr. Red's control? And as she
falls deeper under his spell, she begins to question exactly how much she wants
to escape.
Buy Links
Evernight -
http://tinyurl.com/zxqokc7
All Romance Ebooks -
http://tinyurl.com/z8jg7zl
Amazon US -
http://tinyurl.com/goqm62b
Amazon UK -
http://tinyurl.com/jzgvls6
Author Bio and Links
Amber is the secret identity of a
writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings.
Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate
(sometimes all at once). She's based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage
with her dream man, one adorable cat, and one sulky snake.
Facebook -
https://www.facebook.com/AmberMorganWrites
Twitter -
https://twitter.com/AmberMothling
Blog -
http://ambermorganwrites.weebly.com/
Excerpt
“Sing me something,” he said. Ordered, really.
Ally floundered, caught
off-guard. “Now? No. I can’t. I haven’t…”
“I don’t expect a
flawless performance. I just want to hear you sing.” A hint of impatience
entered his voice. “In case you had forgotten, we are negotiating. Consider
this the first step.” He clicked his fingers at her, the way customers did in
the restaurant. It was rude and domineering, and it always made her mad.
And just like she did
when it happened at work, Ally fought the anger. As a waitress, she couldn’t
lose her temper with the customers no matter how rude they were. As Mr Red’s
prisoner, she had to be even more careful, and she already knew he disliked her
talking back. While she might forget that when there seemed to be nothing at
stake, if he was being honest with her now, there might be something to gain by
co-operating. So she swallowed her annoyance with a huge effort.
She stood, nerves
jangling. Jesus, what he if thought she was shit? What if she was shit? She hadn’t sang outside of the
shower for a long time. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to settle
the butterflies, and then she closed her eyes and started singing.
She wasn’t sure what
was going to come out of her mouth until she started, and she was morbidly
amused to realize she was singing Wait
from Sweenie Todd. She was pretty sure Mr Red had been expecting something more
classical, more…operatic, but she didn’t dare open her eyes to gauge his
reaction. She’d sung the song dozens of times, having played Mrs Lovett in a
high school production, and she was confident her voice wasn’t going to crack
on any difficult notes.
She was on the first
chorus when she heard his chair scrape back as if he was rising from the table.
Inexplicably panicked, she flubbed a line and opened her eyes to see him
stalking towards her.
“Don’t stop,” he said.
The sight of him
approaching, full of quiet menace, was too much for her shaking nerves. She
closed her eyes again and carried on. She sensed him move behind her, caught a
whiff of his seductive cologne, and her voice faltered again. When he rested
his hands on her hips, she had to stop. He was too close, too overwhelming.
“Don’t stop,” he said
again, voice hard.
“I can’t concentrate
when you touch me,” she said, then bit her lip, realizing too late how it
sounded.
He laughed, low and
dirty, and slid his hands up her sides to skim just under her breasts. “You
have a good voice. I know an excellent vocal coach.”
She tried not to think
about the warmth of his hands, the pressure of his fingers. Her back was to his
chest, and she felt trapped…but not unpleasantly so. She tried not to think
about that either. “There’s no point. The best vocal coach in the world can’t
give me a relevant musical degree or the years of experience I’ve missed.”
“Hmm.” He ran his
fingertips up over her breasts, the light touch drawing a hiss from her. He
toyed with the top button of the dress, popping it open. “Wouldn’t it be worth
doing just for the pleasure of it?” he asked.
Heat pooled in her
belly, and she had to parse his words twice to be sure it wasn’t some innuendo.
“I…suppose.”
“After all, it would be
a trip out of the apartment a couple of times a week,” he continued. “With a
bodyguard, of course.”
Galvanized by those
words, Ally pulled free and whipped round to face him. “What?” Hope and suspicion
warred in her. “You’d let me go out? For singing lessons?” Where was the catch?
“Maybe,” Mr Red said.
His gaze was focused on her chest, on the small glimpse of cleavage showing
where he’d unbuttoned the dress. “If you gave me something in return.” He opened
the next button.
